Anecdotal Evidence

Self-Portrait

2011-03-26T18:20:00.002-05:00

It's all about how you see yourself... I saw this in a shop window while walking around the French Quarter with my mom last week. So very true in so many ways.

-20%? Really?

2011-03-04T20:38:00.004-06:00

I've been training with my friend Jason twice a week for about 6 months now, give or take time off for holidays/illness/work conflicts. In this time, my weight has fluctuated a bit, but overall, I have lost 0 lbs. I am not really bothered by this. The way I figure, with my life as chaotic as it is right now (full-time nurse practitioner student in clinical rotations and working half-time at the hospital, among other things) and given my propensity to stress-eat, I am pretty pleased with the fact that I haven't GAINED weight this (academic) year. Jason, apparently, does not feel the same way, as I found out last week. At the beginning of our session on Thursday, he told me that my homework for the week is to do calorie counts. Easy enough. I've been keeping food journals the entire time we've been working together. Initially, he would have me send him weekly reports, which he then picked over and criticized, but eventually he either lost interest or became fed up with my obstinacy and stopped giving me any feedback on them. So, I stopped emailing them to him. I thought that perhaps I was off the hook, but alas, 'twas not the case. Jason reminded me that "we only have four weeks left." Until the season starts, that is. BIKE SEASON.

And thus, I am now to do calorie counts in order to present him with a number that he will then hack, by at least 20%. He says that we are going to be increasing the intensity of our workouts and we will also have to "teach your body to do more with less." That doesn't make any sense to me. If you are making a more powerful engine, don't you need to give it more fuel? Not less? Lest you risk it breaking down on the side of the road?

I am very resistant to his suggestions when it comes to my diet, and I pay for my attitude in the form of a very frustrated trainer. I want to listen to him. I do. I don't want my friend/trainer getting so aggravated that he threatens to "break-up" with me because I won't listen to him.

But I just can't completely trust/believe him. Yet.

My body and eating habits are the MOST sensitive topics you can ever approach me about, and I have been so disappointed and so hurt by countless other efforts to change that yielded no results, that I suppose I am hesitant to believe anybody anymore. I suppose it's a perfect example of sabotaging yourself- I am so afraid of failing yet again, that I stop myself from *really* trying.

Maybe I can stop that vicious cycle this time.

Inner Peace (relationally speaking anyways)

2011-02-27T14:43:00.005-06:00

I went to breakfast this morning with a good friend who also happens to be an ex. How that works, and how we can manage to still be so close is another post entirely; for now, I'll just say that since we broke up, he has been one of my biggest cheerleaders when it comes to relationships. He wants me to be happy but will also give it to me straight when someone isn't treating me right and I'm too blind to see it. He's that guy who will tell a gal pal "you deserve better," then follow it with a big bear hug and likely a few tears shed when you realize he's right. My current boyfriend and I have been together just shy of 3 months but have lived together since before our first "real" date. Not a usual sequence of events, but somehow it has worked. So naturally at breakfast, Claude asked me how things were going, and if I thought this was "the" guy. I was a little taken aback by the question, since Claude doesn't usually go down such sentimental roads, but also because I was surprised to find myself not stumbling for a response. "Yeah, I think so," I said, as calmly as if he'd asked me about the weather. But, why was I so at ease? 'Twas a pretty hefty question he asked me, after all And I've been as guilty as anyone when it comes to worrying about finding Mr. Right, walking down the primrose aisle and arriving exactly on schedule to "the rest of my life." But lately I haven't really given it much thought. Maybe I've just been too busy between shifts at the hospital, clinical rotations and other grad school course work to worry much about it. But I don't think that's it, because when I'm really honest with myself, I will tell you that I absolutely have big dreams about sharing my life with this man. I have so many ideas of places I want to show him and adventures I want us to have. It's just that this time around, there doesn't seem to be that usual sense of urgency about any of it. My heart simply brims with a brilliant calm energy when I think about the two of us. Maybe I've finally figured out that things rarely happen when or how you want them to, and if I just relax and let go, everything will work out fine. Maybe I realized that I'm a pretty rad lady and whether I "have a man" in my life or not does not define my worth as a person. Maybe I finally realized that my life is already happening right now and I should stop worrying so much about searching for "someone special", and then, as if on cue, he came along. (Damn all those people who say "you don't find love, it finds you" for being right!)

So, the question then, is, where does that leave this blog? Heretofore, this has been primarily an outlet for my relational frustrations, a place for my broken heart to cry, but I've tired of this line of writing and need a new direction. Perhaps then, I shall write about my newest endeavor: bike racing, in all it's glory and aches and pains...

Stay tuned...

Trying to Crave Vegetables

2010-07-28T19:18:00.003-05:00

It’s been said that the area of the brain that responds to love and passion is not dissimilar from that part of the brain that houses addiction. I can attest to the verity of this statement. I have never been addicted to alcohol, drugs or cigarettes. But I have met my drug, in the form of a human male. Just like candy and sweets, I know he’s bad for me but I still crave him deeply. Men are not unlike food in a lot of ways. I *know* I should eat vegetables, fruits, protein and whole grains for my own best health & well-being, but I still desire the decadence and richness of chocolate, simple carbohydrates and refined sugar. Some days, the longer I go without my sin, the easier it becomes, until that one inevitable day that my strength wanes. I want that taste in my mouth, knowing that as soon as I taste it, I will want more of it, and that even after I have eaten, my hunger will not stay sated for very long.

I try to resist the craving, to do the “right” thing, to remind myself that he will only bring pain and heart ache once he’s loved me and left me yet again, but that doesn’t stop the yearning. If I allow my mind to wander, in a split second I can recreate him- his kiss, soft and gentle before yielding to urgency and passion, drinking me in with each hot breath; his desire, matching mine; his warm embrace, his hands caressing my back, my thighs, my face as he lets out soft moans of pleasure, his beautiful brown eyes inches from mine, and finally, his breath on my neck as he curls his body behind me, holding my hands and pulling me close against him. But these mental images don’t warm my bed or fight off loneliness.

Life as I knew it was over after him. And it was over again after the second time we were together. Now that I know the possibility of him, nothing else suffices. I try to want what is good for me. I try to crave vegetables. I try to have feelings for someone who is more “sensible”. But it is doesn’t work.

I know that one cannot live on chocolate alone. Is there another side to him that would sustain me? If only he would let me find out. Like any drug, you worry about running out. You have anxiety that it won’t be there anymore when you need it most. You’re afraid to really enjoy it because you know it won’t last forever. As it turns out, he did that. Disappeared.

On Turning 30

2009-08-01T00:22:00.006-05:00

As I prepare to blow out thirty candles on my birthday cake later today, I am re-reading a Carolyn Hax advice column about this milestone birthday that I cut out years ago. The reader writes:

"I'm turning 30 today. So far I've cried four or five times... all before noon. Just about every time someone says 'Happy Birthday' I get all cringy inside and try to smile. I lose the smile when they start making age jokes, 'Only 21 today, right?!??! ha ha ha' (Is screaming allowed?)

I want to be happy, I want to see this as a great new beginning... but what about all those things I though I'd have accomplished by now? Does no one care that I'm disapponted in where I am in my life at this point? (i.e., single, OK but low-paying job, no degree.) Is this normal or am I overreacting to this milestone birthday?"

Carolyn says: You are overreacting to this milestone birthday. Of course people care, but this is "Whee, cake," not "Tell me about your childhood." Besides, as a measure of achievement, age is strictly artificial.

Disappointment in yourself, though, is ageless, and you're not overreacting to that. Whether you're 13 or 103, letting yourself down can feel like one of the hardest bad moods to shake.

Practically, though, it's one of the easiest, because it's all on you. Don't have a degree? Get thee to night school. Don't like your job? Ask for new responsibilities, or update your resume, or see above about night school. Want people to care about you? Show you care about yourself by doing something about where you are in your life-- besides cringing.

Single? Irrelevant. Staying happily married is a feat, I suppose, but getting married in itself is no accomplishment. Making good decisions, dealing with bad ones, resisting outside pressure, moving at your own speed, overcoming fear, growing up, facing your faults-- these are accomplishments. If they find you married, so be it. If they find you single, so be it.

And just as age is no mark of worth, birthdays are no measure of beginnings (or middles or ends). Your beginning will be the day you take on your malaise. "Now" has a ring to it, no?

I originally cut this out before I even really understood most of what Carolyn wrote about. Through the years, I've turned to it as a sort of tangible "reality check". The part about being single is especially helpful, given I've been in and out of my share of relationships, never failing to be disappointed and hurt. It helps to be reminded that the simple act of getting married is not the accomplishment, rather it is the building and maintaining of a relationship that endures that is to be celebrated. It also helps to be reminded that in the grand scheme of things, there is no "done"; we are always evolving, changing, growing, learning, etc. Saying to ourselves, "I'll be happier when..." or "my life will be better when..." not only puts undue pressure on us but also robs us of enjoying the life that is happening in the present. As someone once said to me "Life always shows up"; in other words, if you're waiting for life to begin after you finish your degree/get married/get divorced/lose those extra pounds/buy a house-- something else will come along that will get in your way. Happiness can be an attitude that you can slip in and out of without any impetus at all except your own will; rather than waiting for a reason to be happy, choose to be happy and the reasons will follow.

Crisis

2009-05-09T22:53:00.004-05:00

I am smoking a cigarette for the first time in years.

I never smoke. At least that's what I tell people. In reality, I usually never smoke. Except when something is terribly wrong inside and I'm falling apart.

If I could only figure out what it was. And then, how to make it right.

I have anxiety I have never known. I feel like a ball of nervous energy. I feel an emptiness so profound it is almost tangible.

To the casual observer I am the picture of mental health. But when I inventory my scattered mind, I find more fault than attribute and I wonder what's the point of it all?

"Rejected", and yet ok with that

2009-04-15T20:56:00.005-05:00

I have been insanely crushing on a particular yoga instructor for the past several weeks. I make every effort to attend every class he teaches and almost always spend 10-15 min afterwards "chatting him up". Last week, I mustered up the courage to ask him out. The response I received was highly non-commital, which annoyed the heck out of me, but allowed the hope to continue. He didn't show up at the event I'd invited him to, but considering I'd told him about it just the day before, I could rationalize that he was already busy, and thus allow the hope to continue. I finagled his phone number out of another instructor and called him last Friday. I left him a voicemail and he actually called me back and left me a voicemail. You'd think I'd discovered gold being as excited as I was! I have much too much experience with what I like to call the "Johhny-No-Calls" of this world. But when I saw him after Monday's class, chatted him up again, tried to make plans for later in the week, he still didn't take the bait. I began to wonder: Was he really that oblivious to my intentions? Did I need bring a two-by-four to class that says "do you want to go on a date with me?" in large block letters? I was trying not to be quite so overt. Or was he completely aware of my intentions and just not interested? Or, perhaps, already "taken" and failing to kindly drop "my girlfriend" into the conversation and give me a clue? I was growing quite weary of this internal conflict and the resulting anxiety. I hated feeling this vulnerable and I was becoming nearly morose over it.

I went to his class again today determined to make some headway in the situation, for better or for worse. It was a fantastic yoga class, as usual, and afterwards we kept each other company on the stair step machines for a good half hour. He is so easy to talk to, sweet, kind, caring and considerate. While we were sweating away I casually asked about his weekend plans, how's his week look, etc. No bite. Finally when we were wrapping up the workout and heading to our respective locker rooms, I got out the 2x4: "So, can I call you tomorrow and see if Friday might work to get together?" That's when it came out "Well, there's this girl I'm seeing..." Disappointed doesn't begin to cover it.

While this experience didn't yield the results I was hoping for (a date) after some processing, I am still finding much good in it. First, I actually somehow found the guts to ask a guy out that I was interested in. I was persistant and creative and allowed myself to be vulnerable. That in itself is something to celebrate. Second, when I found out he was dating someone else, I allowed myself to feel the loss and be sad about it. I gave myself permission to grieve and know that there is no shame in being disappointed. Lastly, what I lost in a potential date, I gain in a burgeoning friendship. Everything that initially attracted me to him is still there, I just have to accept it in a different form. I would be an idiot to write him off just because he's not "available", I think there's too much value in him as a person to do that. I can always use more friends, and who knows, maybe he has a friend who is single!

Homeleaving: Dealing with Loss & Learning to Live Alone

2009-03-10T21:28:00.004-05:00

To begin, a poem from Dennis O'Driscoll:

HOME

when all is said and done
what counts is having someone
you can phone at five to ask

for the immersion heater
to be switched to 'bath'
and the pizza taken from the deepfreeze

I am 29 1/2 years old and have been living alone, truly alone, for exactly two days. My mom got married on Saturday and left Sunday to move to her new husband's home in the state of Mississippi. Up until this point in my life I have always lived with either family or roommates. Now it is just me and my kitty in my little apartment in the big city.

All of these changes have gotten me to wonder what the notion of 'home' really is anyways. Is home a place? A physical building? I suppose this is partly so, after all don't we always feel a bit discombobulated when moving to a new dwelling? But, don't we then adapt after a while? And what about when we return to a place that was home, and though it is still familiar, it now feels distinctly different? When we have changed yet 'home' has stayed the same and we are now somehow alienated? No, 'home' cannot be a place. Is 'home' then, a person? This notion certainly has merit, for haven't we all felt that feeling where you haven't arrived 'home' yet from a long journey until you have seen and held a particular person? Or when you are in a place completely foreign to you, yet feel suprisingly comfortable and 'at home' because a certain person is with you? That's how I always felt about my mom. But if this is how we define 'home', then my home just left me.

Perhaps then, 'home' is something entirely less tangible. Being understood? A sense of purpose? Feeling loved? Or a combination of all of these? I suppose it will be a while before I know...

Infuriating, Stupid BOYS!

2009-03-01T01:07:00.003-06:00

I have recently thrown myself back into the deep end of the "dating pool". I set up an eHarmony account last October and have slowly eased into the process. Until only recently I had not come across anyone I was even remotely interested in dating. About two weeks ago, however, I reviewed a rather promising profile. He was intelligent, funny, educated, interesting, kind of nerdy (which I like) and he accepted my invitation to "Fast Track" (i.e. skipping the exchanging of pre-fab multiple choice questions and "must have can't stand" lists). We wrote back and forth for a while and I asked him how he would like to proceed with this exchange. He promptly replied with his phone number. So I called him. We spoke on the phone for over 2 hours, which, in my experience, is quite rare for most guys. Towards the end of the conversation he very nervously asked me if I'd like to meet in person for coffee or a drink. I accepted and we made plans for a couple of days later.

We met at the arranged time (except I was late) and proceeded to have (what I perceived anyways) as a very pleasurable afternoon. The conversation flowed easily, I found him ever more interesting, there was a bit of a spark of some chemistry happening... all very good things. I enjoyed his company so much that I invited him to join me and my friends at a happy hour later that week; an invitation that he accepted. Hence my shock when the next day the following showed up in my inbox:

Leslie, Thanks for your email. I was having a hard time last night b/c, though I think you're a smart, attractive, great person, I don't feel that we are a good fit. I'm sorry for telling you this over email, but it's just easier. I wish you the best in your search. Sincerely, Jake

The gall of him! I was infuriated! Not that he isn't interested, but that he led me on and lied to me. I understand that rejection is a part of the dating world, it just isn't going to work any other way. I get that. But why accept an invitation only to back out of it the next day? The following is the email I felt like sending (but, on the counsel of my mom and good friends, didn't!)

Wow, I'm really surprised to read this considering you had accepted a second date. If you didn’t want to go you should’ve just declined because now I feel incredibly mislead. In the future, I’d recommend honesty upfront, lest you contribute to your gender’s stereotypical bad reputation. Thank you at least for doing me the favor of showing me what a ball-less creep you are this early on before I’d wasted any more of my time on you. And yes, it was really lame of you to tell me this over email, you spineless twit. I’d say good luck to you too, but I’m not really feeling that generous towards you anymore. I hope you choke on the coffee I gave you.

I talked with my friend's boyfriend about this "bad male behavior", and while he was able to empathize with the dirtbag and could somewhat explain his possible motives, I'm still lost. Why do most people have such a hard time being honest with each other (and themselves?) Is it really that hard to just say no instead of feigning interest and making promises that you have no intention of keeping? I am so frustrated right now...

"So Nice, So Smart"

2009-01-11T18:33:00.004-06:00

I've been listening to Kimya Dawson's song "So Nice, So Smart" . There is a line in this piece that has always struck me: "You’re so nice and you’re so smart; you’re such a good friend I have to break your heart. I’ll tell you that ‘I love you’ then I’ll tear your world apart, just pretend I didn’t tear your world apart." On good days, I spend my waking hours with forgiveness and understanding in my heart over having someone I was madly in love with leave me and marry another woman less than six months later. Then on days like today, when I'm feeling lonely and alone, I hear a song like this when I'm on the treadmill at the gym and I want to break down in tears. When I think about what happened, those words could have been spoken by him just as easily as they were sung by Ms. Dawson. He did break my heart and tear my world apart, he told me he loved me after he tore it apart, and yet I still spend time with him. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just torturing myself staying in contact with him. And sometimes I can't imagine my life without him, even though he is someone else's husband and his friendship seems like nothing more than a consolation prize.

Happy New Year!

2008-12-31T21:28:00.002-06:00

A quiet evening at home with a cup of tea is how I am spending this NYE. I will soon be in bed, no "Rockin' New Year's Eve" for this gal. Instead, I am choosing to spend a little quality time with my thoughts and be well rested for my patients tomorrow.

As much as I try to avoid becoming too nostalgic at this time of year, I can't help but think back on what a tumultuous year it has been. It has been a year of tremendous challenges, life changes, more ups and downs that the world's biggest rollercoaster, and yet, also a time of incredible growth. I am proud to say that as despite everything, or because of it, I feel I have become more self-aware, intuitive and open to learning about myself and those around me. I am looking forward to a 2009 that builds on the foundations I have begun to lay for myself and the life I am building for myself takes shape.

Feeling Inspired tonight

2008-12-30T20:36:00.003-06:00

Tonight I had the great pleasure of sharing my ideas about Health Care Reform with diverse group of individuals at a Planned Parenthood forum. It was an unprecedented opportunity to speak up about the health care issues that matter and help shape the Obama administration’s health care policies. As you may know, President-elect Obama’s nominee for Secretary of Health and Human Services, Tom Daschle, has asked Planned Parenthood and its supporters to participate in a nationwide discussion on the future of health care reform.

And so, this afternoon, over coffee and cookies, I was in a board room at the Lagoon Planned Parenthood clinic where a group of supporters and I had the opportunity to meet with State Senator John Marty, Chair of the Health, Housing, and Family Security Committee, Speaker of the Minnesota House Margaret Anderson-Kelliher, and Representitive Frank Hornstein. The Obama administration has called out to the citizens of this nation for stories and experiences with the health care system and most importantly, what we think health care reform should look like. Boy did we answer that call this afternoon! I thoroughly enjoyed the lively discussion that ensued and making the acquaintance of other dynamic individuals with a passion for women's health care isues. It gives me hope that the President-Elect of this great, albeit very messed-up, nation, has asked the people for their input. Now that's democracy at its core. This meeting was a small part of what truly is a grass roots effort on a very large scale, put forth by our "Organizer in Chief" as some have called Obama. With the people behind him in a manner that has not been seen in a long time, and more pro-choice and pro-family planning people elected to Congress than ever before, 2009 is bursting with potential for Obama and I, for one, can't wait to see what's going to happen.

Away for Holidays

2008-12-23T12:05:00.002-06:00

I will be out of town and away from any sort of reliable internet access until Monday December 29th. Will continue writing and post when I return. Happy Holidays and safe travels to all!

Becoming Unshamed

2008-12-18T22:02:00.010-06:00

While being able to say "I was raped" is a gigantic feat and one to be recognized and even celebrated, perhaps even more important is that I have begun to unravel the tangle of damage that was done to my psyche as a result of it. Was the rape the cause of my emotional damage, or was it a symptom of a deeper problem? It is fascinating and heartbreaking how the tiny seed of that one night has become a powerful vine that has wrapped its way around my heart and spirit almost entirely.

An unwanted precedent was set when I was raped. From that moment forward, I believed (mostly unconsciously) that my body was something to be used, both by myself and others. Did I believe this before the rape, and thus "allowed" Ed to violate me? Possibly. I've never been entirely comfortable in my own skin, never quite knew what to do with my physical self.

I've had much too much sex that I did not want to have (and that wasn't even that good) that I've dug myself into a very deep hole of shame. Somewhere along the way I unlearned how to relate to men in a healthy, mutually respectful way, in a manner where sex and "sexual tension" were not part of the equation. Every relationship I've ever had somehow or another eventually came to revolve around sex. Whether it was the fiery love affair that I tried to turn into an actual relationship, the tepid romance that I hung onto too long because the sex was pretty decent, or the incident in the Caribbean involving a guy I know only as "Island Boy", somehow sex was the main ingredient every time. Even relationships I have with men that are not lovers- coworkers, friends, bosses- often carry an inappropriate air of sexuality.

This all changed with one amazing guy that I met in July 2006. For the first time I knew in my heart that this man wanted me for me, and that whether or not we had sex when we were together did not dictate if we had a good time or not. We loved each other's minds, the cerebral discourse we had, our goofiness, the fact that we understood each other's dreams, hopes, fears and could share our hearts with each other-- we were lovers on a level deeper than anywhere I'd ever been before. For reasons outside the scope of this post, we broke up last February, but have been able to keep in touch. He said to me not too long ago when we met up for coffee that "the sex was fantastic, but it was secondary."

This man taught me a tremendous lesson for which I am grateful. He taught me that I have value as a human being above and beyond sex and sexuality. I am a good person worthy of love because of who I am, not because I am willing to go to bed. Recognizing this is only one step in the long process of becoming unshamed, and the challenge as I go forth in my journey searching for a partner will be to keep this lesson in the forefront of my mind. When I feel insecure or unsure of myself, my first instinct is to use my sexuality. It will be difficult to learn new tools to use when relating to men, but I want to do it differently. Practice makes perfect?

Emotional Catharsis

2008-12-18T21:57:00.001-06:00

I had no idea how much the burden I had been carrying around for the past 8 1/2 years had been weighing me down. Once I began writing Monday's post, I found myself unable to pull myself away from the keyboard, as if an emotional floodgate had been opened and would not be stopped until it had run its course. I went to bed feeling physically lighter. I slept better than I have in months. When I awoke the next morning, I had a spring in my step and an energy that I haven't felt in a long time. I think I am finally beginning to feel unshamed.

The Reality of Rape, Eight Years Later

2008-12-16T21:50:00.002-06:00

I have been raped. I say this not as I might have before I became the person I am today; not as a declaration, firing up my fighting spirit; not as a confession of my feelings of guilt, wishing I could make it all go away but trying in vain to make the feminist in me "own it"; not as an announcement seeking attention and inviting drama. No, at this point, it is simply a statement of fact of events that transpired when I was a sophomore in college. Naming an evil, calling it what it is, is, I've discovered, a part of the healing process.

It wasn't until recently that I began to call what happened to me rape. I used to refer to that night as a "drunken one night stand" and blew it off. Ed was an upperclass physics tutor that I'd had a crush on. I was drinking in my dorm room with friends after finals were over when I ran into him in the hallway, I proceeded to flirt heavily, he invited me back to his dorm room where we continued drinking and he wooed me with his guitar playing, we started kissing and before I even knew what was happening, he was on top of me and his penis was inside of me. The worst part of all of this is that before this night, I'd never had intercourse before. Although a lot of that night is an alcohol-induced blur, I distinctly remember thinking to myself in a panicked moment of lucidity, "Holy crap, what am I doing? Am I having SEX?!?!?!?" But, at that point, he'd already stolen a part of my innocence, so I just laid there and let him finish. When he was through, I walked my first "walk of shame" back to my room, and proceeded to go on a very long, and sore, run.

Why, before now, had I never thought of this night as rape? Had someone else written the preceeding paragraph I would agree in a moment that the situation described was indeed rape. As Laura Sessions Stepp describes in "Unhooked" so many of these situations fall into what young women have come to perceive as the "gray area", that insidious "if I hadn't gone to that party" place, that "if I hadn't kissed him" place; the mistaken belief that when both partners have been drinking heavily, responsibility for what happened falls to no one, because "it just happens." In gray rape, as Stepps says, "the girl who may have come on like a hunter becomes the hunted." Young women are so eager to own their sexuality, to express themselves and take no shame for enjoying their bodies, that they are also so reluctant to see themselves as powerless. Most college codes of conduct, as well as criminal law, define rape as when a person penetrates the anus or vulva of another person without that person's freely given consent, and that the one giving consent must be coherent, i.e., if she or he is too drunk to make a choice, consent cannot be assumed. Despite this rather clear definition, I think young women, including myself, are reluctant to wear the label of "rape" because so often what follows is "victim", and a victim is the last thing I want to be.

As I said earlier though, I do think there is some value to be found in naming this evil and calling it what it is. I don't want retribution, I am not seeking legal reprocussions, in fact, if Ed never knows he raped me, it wouldn't make much difference to me. I do know this: being able to say out loud "I was raped", being able to recognize that all these years I had been chastizing myself for carelessly throwing away my virginity when in fact it was taken from me, and beginning to understand how all of the shame that I've carried with me since that one night has shaped the relationship I have with my sexuality today, has brought me a peace I have not yet known. And at this moment on my journey, I do hope that this bit of clarity will lead to a more loving and respectful attitude towards my own body, sexual being, and person as a whole.

Back at it

2008-12-15T22:21:00.002-06:00

I've been thoroughly immersed in the chaos that is moving and am *finally* more or less settled in, just in time for the holidays :) I was also teaching last semester, which was one of the most challenging, yet also rewarding, things that I have ever done. Forgive me, dear readers, (do I have any?) for my absence. I have two posts brewing in my brain already, hopefully they will come to fruition shortly. In the meantime, amuse yourselves with this. And read Hugo, one of my all-time favorite bloggers.

I got stuck at #8

2008-09-20T17:38:00.004-05:00

My therapist thinks it would do me good to start dating again. After all, Eric and I have been broken up for over 7 months, and he's already married for over a month already, for crying out loud. Isn't it time to "get back out there"? I suppose; easier said than done, however. She suggested I take a look at eHarmony. She's had other clients use the web service successfully and prefers it over others she's reviewed. I, on the other hand, am not too keen on the notion of a dating service. I find it all so contrived. Maybe it's an unrealistic notion in today's society, but I prefer to meet men the old-fashioned way, actually meeting them in the course of my everyday life. Think of it, if you have a mutual friend, the guy's already "pre-screened" in a way. You trust your friend's judgement, so you know the guy they are recommending to you is an inherently good person, even if the dating doesn't work out. If you meet someone while participating in a favorite hobby or activity of yours, at least you have somewhere to start. Nancy has never led me astray before, so I went ahead and logged on.

I didn't get very far though; In fact, I barely made it past the first page. Question #8: "Would you be willing to accept a person who has child(ren) under age 18 living with him full-time? yes or no." What happened to "maybe?" How can such a complicated question have such definitive answer options? Is he a widower? Yes, of course I would be ok with children. Is he a man-whore whose exes have dumped the children on him and ran off with their new rock-n-roll lovers? Absolutely not. What about a divorced man? I don't know about that one, what were the circumstances of the divorce? How is the relationship with the ex now (because you know you will always have her in the relationship)? Maybe I'm thinking too hard.

Or maybe I'm too scared and looking for excuses to not do this. Sometimes the thought of dating again terrifies me. I have plenty of excuses for not dating, and while they are true (I am in the midst of moving and I really have recently started a new job which is exhausting) I think a lot of that is rationalization.

So, we'll see. Maybe I'll just have to sit down with a good friend and trudge through the questions together. And maybe something good will come of it, not necessarily in the form of an elegible bachelor, but a little less fear of the big bad dating world.

Sunday Mourning

2008-08-24T05:25:00.005-05:00

I never knew mourning to be like this.
An everyday act of missing, wishing, wanting

(you)

Dreaming that things were different

A dull ache of sadness
That never goes away
(And you never get used to.)

You're lost to me now
(And I'm lost without you.)

Please come back
(hurry)

Nothing left to say... or feel

2008-07-15T20:19:00.001-05:00

I met up with Eric after work today for a few brews at one of my favorite pubs. The oddest thing about our time together was how much it felt like a "non-event". No pulling of heart strings, no yearnings, no strong feelings whatsoever. In fact, earlier that day, I almost didn't even feel like going, not in the sense that I wanted to avoid him, just that it had been a long day at work and I felt more like going home and relaxing. I used to anticipate with such giddiness any opportunity to spend time with him that this was an entirely new experience for me. It makes me wonder if this is progress towards resolution, or just a new phase. Who knows? Maybe I'm just putting up walls around my heart to avoid the inevitable heart break, again.

A Wedding to Break my Heart

2008-07-06T12:55:00.004-05:00

As if Eric and Jennifer being together wasn't the cause of enough heartache (see previous entry, "Of Love and Consternation"), adding to our (Eric's and mine) already strained friendship is the news that they are getting married. In five weeks. Fuck, I certainly was not prepared for that. Any inkling of happiness I may have been able to muster for them over the course of months is overpowered by this stabbing pain shooting through my heart. I am relatively certain that had I had the time to adjust to their being together, to meet Jennifer slowly and "get used to" her being a part of Eric's life, that I could have come to terms with these new circumstances. Their choosing to get married on August 15th robs me of that option. It robs me of the ability to get through this slowly, to take care of my heart and listen to my feelings along the way, and go step-by-baby step. I feel forced into making a decision I never wanted to have to make. He's asked for my mailing address so I am fairly certain an invitation will be arriving shortly in my "real" mail in-box. What on Earth am I to do? Set aside my feelings and go anyways, knowing there is a good chance my heart will be breaking the entire time? Or risk ostracizing myself and not show up to save my own sanity? Weddings are celebrations, but what would I be celebrating? The fact that less than six months after we broke up, he's walking down the aisle with another woman? I find it very difficult to celebrate an event that feels like tangible reminder of how very little I ever meant to Eric romantically. I am literally in an emotional tail spin over this, and I just wish I knew what to do.

Communities built based on the assumption of cheap gasoline

2008-06-25T19:20:00.005-05:00

A recently published Garrison Keillor editorial piece really articulated what I've been thinking about a lot lately. Upon the sale of my mom's house, I will soon be leaving Surburbia (aka BFE according to many of my friends), for "the big city" and the change couldn't come sooner. In the past months, I have grown weary of the big-box retailers, cookie-cutter McMansions, and chain restaurants that define the surburban landscape. I am fed up with a community laid out in such a way as to make cars the most practical form of transportation- lack of sidewalks and bike lanes, highways dividing neighborhoods, and buses that stop at 6:30 pm and don't run at all on weekends. I yearn for the kind of life that Garrison Keillor speaks of, the kind where neighbors get to know each other by passing each other while walking home from the bus stop, or biking to a concert at the lake nearby. A life unhindered by cars, where using an automobile for transportation is the exception, rather than the rule. So as I further my search for my own place, I have very specific criteria with regard to location relative to work, access to public transit and proximity to bike trails and entertainment. My only hope is that I can find something that satisfies these criteria without breaking my budget!

Couldn't be more proud

2008-06-24T20:03:00.003-05:00

I am so incredibly proud of my cousin Andrea who finished her first marathon this past weekend. She took up running just last fall when she decided to run the Mayor's Midnight Sun Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska on, what else, Summer Solstice. She's quite an inspiration to this triathlete hopeful!

Abstractly Me

2008-06-23T20:05:00.003-05:00

My artist friend Doug Pexa just posted this drawing of me on his website, based off some photos I posted on his online artist collaborative, the Figure Drawing Factory. See more of his work on his website: http://www.pexa-artstudios.com/index.html

Of Love and Consternation: The Sticky Business of Friendship with Exes

2008-06-19T02:30:00.004-05:00

I recently read an interesting advice column by Carolyn Hax regarding the sticky issue of friendship with exes in relationships. This particular issue is hitting home with me of late, but from a different angle than the one she addresses in the column. I am not currently in a relationship where I need to worry about the impact my choices in social companions makes on a significant other, rather I am the female friend of an ex whose current girlfriend is uncomfortable with our close friendship. I was the “in-between” relationship with regard to Eric and Jennifer, i.e. they’d broken up after dating for a significant time period and even contemplated marriage at one point; Eric and I met about a year and a half later and subsequently dated for about 6 months, we broke up and they have now since reunited. After a “time-out” period for grieving and heart-healing, Eric and I have, at his urging, worked through the issues surrounding our break-up and managed to move on and forge quite an enjoyable friendship, a first for me. Before long, I was buying him a celebratory soy chai latte after he was awarded Teacher of the Year, and he was listening to my work frustrations over beers at one of our favorite pubs, things good friends do, and all was apparently well. While I don’t get to spend as much time with him as I did when we were dating, the time we do find to hang out is superbly entertaining and pleasurable. I try not to treat Jennifer as the “elephant in the room” when we get together (it should be noted that I’ve never met her); we have plenty of other things to discuss without my explicitly asking about her, but I also recognize that she is a major part of his life now, and she will come up. And sometimes, for the sake of reinforcing reality (for my own continual healing) and trying to be a supportive friend, I do directly ask how things are going, how the house hunting is progressing, etc (they plan to sell their respective homes and purchase one together.) It takes conscientious effort and a lot of honesty to maintain such an arrangement, but we seemed to be making it work… until last Sunday. We were having dinner before I had to go to work and something about the whole evening seemed “off.” As I was pressed for time, I didn’t bring it up just then, and I left the restaurant feeling very cross. I later wrote him a general “is everything ok?” email, mentioning that something seemed wrong and I just wanted to “check in”. He writes back that no, nothing is wrong, “I’m just sensitive about talking about issues surrounding Jennifer with you because of consternation and I know Jennifer doesn’t really like it when I talk about spending time with you so I minimize that as well.” That doesn’t much sound like “nothing” wrong to me.

And thus I am at an impasse. I already lost this man once to Jennifer when he decided to end our romantic relationship in order to give theirs another try, it would be unbearable to lose him to her again because she objects to our friendship. On the other hand, love involves sacrifice… am I to be the sacrifice Eric makes for the sake of their relationship? Am I to dutifully step aside out of love for my friend so that he might have a successful relationship with the woman he’s chosen? Or would that only serve to reinforce unfounded insecurity and jealousy (?) on Jennifer’s part and solve nothing? Would it be helpful if I met Jennifer and took away the mystery of me, plead my case, somehow “proved” that I’m not out to steal Eric or sabotage their relationship? Am I asking too much to have the same depth of friendship with Eric that we’ve previously had even though Jennifer is now part of the equation? Am I violating something by asking about their relationship? Is there some unwritten rule that exes do not discuss current relationships with each other?

All I know is this: I love Eric profoundly, as I do all my closest friends, of both genders. I am a better person because he is in my life; all I want is for him to stay there. I am struggling with this. Is it wrong of me to not want a conditional friendship, some weird version of a relationship where he explicitly excludes a major part of his life from me, as well as to know that such a friendship could very likely be the cause of distress in his relationship? Or, is this something that will just take a while to adjust to; the insecurity of a “new” (or in their case, “re” new) relationship will fade over time?

I am really bothered by all of this- I hope Eric and I get a chance to talk soon, and perhaps a good friend will be able to offer some perspective and help clear my mind about all of this.

The "Other" Historical Moment

2008-06-13T01:59:00.004-05:00

Last week Barack Obama secured the Democratic Presidential nomination and a long, arduous campaign came to an end. Part of me was relieved—now we can focus on November and getting our candidate into the Oval Office. But, at the same time, I was rather undone by it all. Obama was in my backyard, a rally in St. Paul, where 17,000 supporters cheered him on and another 15,000 watched from outside, and yet, I felt not a twinge of enthusiasm about any of it. I was deflated, but could not really pinpoint what that was about until I read an article in Monday’s Star Tribune. The commentator insightfully pointed out that “as one momentous hallmark of history was being served up -- the first racial minority in the country to win a major party nomination -- another was tossed out the door.” As a young feminist woman who as a little girl dreamed of seeing a female president in her lifetime, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of loss and frustration. I’ve long admired Hillary Clinton, for her work to create national healthcare as first lady to her leadership in the Senate, especially her efforts confronting the FDA and its delays in approving Plan B’s over-the-counter status, an issue I was particularly close to. As Rep. Alice Hausman, DFL-St. Paul said, "Every time I hear about this 'great historic moment' with Obama, it's like the dagger goes a little deeper. We were longing for this historic moment, too. Some see that history because he's a person of color. But some of us still see a man, and that looks a lot more like more of the same than if it were a woman." I fully intend to support Barack Obama this fall, but admittedly I will be doing so with a bit of a heavy heart and a lot less fervor than I would have had things gone the other way.

Why "Anecdotal Evidence"?

2008-06-09T18:44:00.006-05:00

A friend once asked why I chose this particular title for my blog. The phrase first struck my fancy when I was taking a class in the first semester of my nursing program and we had to complete an online module on alternative medicine. The module took great pains to point out that while there is not a large body of scientific research that speaks to the various modalities' efficacies and mechanisms, there also is not conclusive scientific research on the majority of what is considered "traditional" medicine. I can't recall the exact figures, but somewhere around one-third of routinely performed medical procedures and perscribed medications are actually backed up by hard-core, scientific evidence. And the rest? Well, that is what we call "anecdotal evidence." As I advance more and more into the depths of the medicine, I discover how much we rely on this kind of information, how much is done "because it works." Drugs such as bupropion for smoking cessation and sildenafil for erectile dysfunction were actually discovered anecdotally as they were being studied for other indications (bupropion for depression and sildenafil for pulmonary hypertension.) Don't get me wrong, I am not claiming irresponsible practice on the part of physicians and health care practitioners around the world, I am simply pointing out that while there is so much we don't know, we can still deepen our understanding simply by paying attention and collecting anecdotal evidence.

This blog, is in a way, my own exercise in observation and effort to pay more attention to seemingly insignificant details. What is life but billions of individiual collections of anecdotal evidence? We are shaped by our experiences, our interpretations of those experiences, our observations and the observations of others.

Right now my life doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. But perhaps, through writing, and feedback from readers (if there are any!) I might gain some perspective and begin to see the big picture taking shape.

Having a "glass half-empty" week

2008-06-09T16:23:00.000-05:00

Blech- I have had three glorious days off and now have to go to work tomorrow. I wish I could say I "get" to go to work tomorrow, but alas, right now, it feels like a chore. I've been rather frustrated with my current situation, feeling unsupported by co-workers, uninspired by the manager, yet feeling I am stuck there for lack of experience and better opportunity. Wanting to shut this door, but not going to until I find a window!

A Renewed Conviction to Write

2008-06-07T22:55:00.003-05:00

I recently finished Atul Gawande's "Better". In the last section entitled "Changing Doctors, Changing Outcomes", adapted from a speech Gawande gave to a class of medical students, he expounds on a list of five suggestions "for how one might make a worthy difference, for how one might become, in other words, a positive deviant."

I've been struggling with this lately, this feeling of being merely "a cog in a machine". Hospitals are enormous places, patients come and go, residents rotate out every three months... it is very difficult sometimes to feel as though you are ever making much of an impact on anyone's life.

Although primarily aimed at physicians, I believe Gawande's suggestions can be applied to many professions in health care. And so today I take Gawande's fourth suggestion: "write something." He explains: "by soliciting modest contributions from the many,we have produced a store of collective know-how with far greater power than any individual could have achieved." Thus we improve the system. And, personally, Gawande observes, "writing lets you step back and think through a problem. Even the angriest rant forces the writer to achieve a degree of thoughtfulness." Thus we improve ourselves.

So, after quite a hiatus, here's to a renewed adventure in blogging.

Living the Onion Life

2008-03-16T21:30:00.001-05:00

Does anyone else ever feel like this? Slowly peeling away the layers and crying the whole time? I've been feeling like that today. My childhood home is going to be sold and thus I have been forced to sort through boxes upon boxes of "stuff" that I've stored there all these years. Sometimes this involves the thoughts of "why did I keep this?" And into the recycling it goes. Other times I come across items more apt to evoke emotional responses: poetry from a turbulent adolescence, treasures from travels that I've had no place to put, love letters from before that relationship tragically fell apart. These items tell the story of my life, just like the saying on the side of the Walker says "Bits and pieces put together to present a semblance of a whole." Seeing those objects, reading those words, brought me back to those times in my life. This is my history, and yet, I am faced with the prospect of keeping or tossing. What does one save? How much does sentimental value count? Do I really want to move all this stuff? And so I sat on the office floor, next to the paper shredder, diving deeper into boxes, removing layer after layer, peeling back the memories, deciding what to save, what memories to hang on to, and what to forget and throw away... and tearing up all along the way.

But, perhaps more important than the issue of my boxes of "stuff", is the changing dynamic between me and my mom. As my trip through the 20's comes to a close and I begin to "launch" into a more mature adulthood (as opposed to "young" adulthood) I've realized that up until this point I've thought of my mom as a constant in my life, a refuge of familiarity that I could always count on to be there when life overwhelms me. But this is becoming less true with each passing year. My mom has raised her children and deserves to live her life for herself once again. Of course she should retire, sell the house, get remarried and move out of state. I love her so strongly and want nothing but for her to be happy. After all she's been through she certainly deserves it. And yet, there is an 8-year-old child inside me screaming "NO! what about me??" As much as I rationally want to let her go, somehow, it still hurts.

Vacation Pictures

2008-02-14T21:09:00.002-06:00

It is always a whirlwind when one returns from vacation. Things have finally settled down and I was able to put my pictures together. Click below the fold for the links. Enjoy!

Paris: http://picasaweb.google.com/leslie.s.newman/ParisJanuary2008?authkey=A7lgW5liUIk

Barcelona: http://picasaweb.google.com/leslie.s.newman/BarcelonaJanuary2008?authkey=sYWvA2QOUHQ

David Sedaris on Living Abroad

2008-01-31T17:05:00.000-06:00

I just finished "Me Talk Pretty One Day" by David Sedaris. I am quite sure I attracted more than a few odd looks from nearby Parisiens as I chuckled to myself on the Metro. While I highly recommend reading this novel purely for entertainment value, I also detected a certain wisdom on the appreciation of other culture that is worth noting.

The passage that particularly struck me goes like this:

"Life might be difficult for a while, but I would tough it out because living in a foreign country is one of those things that everyone should try at least once. My understanding was that it completed a person, sanding down the rough provincial edges and transforming you into a citizen of the world."

Having recently revisited the city where I first experienced life in a foreign country, I must say, I completely agree. In fact, I couldn't have said it better myself.

Traveler's Ten Commandments

2007-12-31T12:03:00.001-06:00

As I dive into this new year, the "to-do" list is long, the anticipation and excitement high. When I was doing some cleaning recently, I stumbled upon documents from my first trip to France in 1996 (yes, I know, I keep EVERYTHING!) but I found it rather à propos considering my upcoming return to my adopted country.

Always Travel....

1 .... SLOWLY. Take time to observe nuances and drink in beauty.
2 ....HUMBLY. Visit people and places with reverence and respect for their ways of life.
3 ....LIGHTLY. Don't take anything too seriously; a carefree mind is the beginning of vacation.
4 ....WITH IMAGINATION.
5 ....COURTEOUSLY. The ability to say "thank you" in any language is priceless.
6 ...INTELLIGENTLY. You can be cautious and vigilent and still have a good time. Know where your passport and money are at all times. Be aware of your surroundings. Don't take risks you wouldn't take at home.
7 WITH HUMOR. You are paying good money to have a good time!
8 ....CURIOUSLY. Do not expect to find things as you have them at home. You left home to find things different.
9 .... WITH AN OPEN MIND. Leave your prejudices at home.
10 .... AS A WORLD CITIZEN. You'll discover that people are basically the same the world around. Be an ambassador of good will to all people.

"Take Me Home"

2007-12-16T21:12:00.000-06:00

My family decided to give me a GPS navigational system in honor of my graduation. Intended or not, the symbolism is not "lost" on me. With the help of their love and generosity, I shall never lose my way again; no matter how unfamiliar the terrain, I can always just ask to be "taken home". Quite a fitting gift for this momentous occasion :)

More than pomp and circumstance

2007-12-13T17:32:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow is graduation. I will don cap and gown, hood, honors cord, and tassel with a gold “2007” motif hanging from it. I will walk across the stage, shake hands with the Dean, my advisor, and other notable persons from the School of Nursing and receive my diploma; I will even be “pinned”. After the ceremony, I will drink tea and eat cookies with the faculty, and then I will go out and celebrate with friends and family. And on the last day of the month, I will have officially conferred upon me the degree of Master of Nursing.

But this day is more than a ceremony, more than a ritual I begrudgingly tolerate, more even than the celebration of the completion of a degree program. I have been waiting for this day for much longer than 16 months; in one way or another, I have been waiting for this day for over four years.

Tomorrow’s ceremony will signify not only my graduation, it is my redemption. Tomorrow is the day I choose to be completely freed from my self-imposed captivity of worthlessness and abhorrence, shackled by the ghosts of past failures and foolish choices. Tomorrow I vow to spend more time looking forward with excitement and enthusiasm, rather than longingly, regretfully, looking back over my shoulder and fearfully wondering “what if”. Tomorrow is the day I finally finish something and let myself be proud of me.

Tomorrow is my winter solstice; the day that marks new light and rebirth and the end of the darkness that has ruled my heart and soul for too long; the day anger and agony dissolve away. And so, if I seem a little more wistful than most, or I seem to tear up rather easily, it is because, for me, this graduation is so much more than just pomp and circumstance.

New Home

2007-10-06T20:45:00.000-05:00

Welcome to my new blog! I have just finished moving over my archives, so at least this site will have something on it until I have time for new postings.

I am still undecided what exactly the purpose of this site will be (commentary on current events? political ranting? emotional venting? all of the above?) but in the meantime, I'm learning the ins and outs of this site and navigating my way around. See you soon :)

The Cave of Timelessness

2007-10-06T17:00:00.000-05:00

Painting and Poem by Jane Evershed, socially conscious artist.

In the cave of timelessness

Where the moon comes up

Over the sea,

There lies a great lesson for me...

Back home where every second

Is a plan of action,

And every nano-second

Is broken into fractions...

I can be, the rock in the cave,

Roll my mind into the quiet sea,

Feel and breathe eternity

Held in a moment of bliss.

Love in permanent hibernation

2007-09-04T17:51:00.000-05:00

"And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."
-from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet

Does this ring painfully true with anyone else? I read it a few days ago as I was about to fall asleep and was stopped dead in my tracks (well, figuratively anyways.) I was so struck because I'd experienced exactly what he's talking about.
It wasn't until after the relationship was on its way out the door that I even realized how much Mr. X. had come to mean to me. I suppose there are worse ways for relationships to end, with bitterness, anger, even hatred. But Mr. X. left my life with me loving him, and I still do even today. No, my heart is not pining for him; I don't wallow in sorrow and harbor false hope that he will come back to me, that's not what I'm saying. I'm not even trying to tell you to recognize your love before its too late (though I suppose that would be a good idea.) I've gotten to that point after a break-up when the strong emotions have subdued and yielded to reason and objectivity; what I've come to learn is that love is the strongest and most enduring emotion and it does not have to die even if a relationship ends, it just goes into permanent hibernation. Love cannot be used up; giving to one does not render you unable to give to another. Nor does loving mean wanting. Love can be a powerful antidote to all the negative energy that surrounds a break-up. I like to think I've wrapped Mr. X. up in an ethereal mist of love and tucked him away in a corner of my heart. While he may have been in my life only briefly, I don't negate what we went through and what the experience has taught (and continues to teach) me. I am quite certain that I will be wiser next time around, thanks in part to him. I wish him well and if he reads this, gros bisous, cheri.

One Minute Poem

2007-09-03T21:57:00.000-05:00

My attempt at quick poetry.
I looked down and wrote about what I saw :)

A Reflection on Breasts

Orbs of flesh hanging from my chest
In their lopsided regalia

Commanding, beautiful, sensuous
Annoying

Coming out when they should not
Getting in the way

Inducing lust unwanted
Announcing their frigidity

Why such ridiculous attention?

First Kisses

2007-09-01T21:52:00.001-05:00

This is the one of best descriptions of first kisses that I've ever heard. I know, I know, I'm such a hopeless romantic!

"For a kiss to be really good, it has to mean something. You want it to be with someone you can't get out of your head, so when your lips finally meet, you feel it everywhere. A kiss so hot and so deep you never want to come up for air. You can't cheat your first kiss- trust me, you don't want to. Because when you find that right person, the first kiss is everything."

A Poem by Dennis O'Driscoll

2007-08-27T17:33:00.000-05:00

I saw this poet speak at Macalaster College recently; I'm not a poetry aficionado by any stretch of the imagination, but hearing a poet read their work really brings it to life. Here is one of my favorites that I found online (I didn't have the money to buy the book at the time, so the poem that I really liked I couldn't find!)

Missing God
by Dennis O'Driscoll

His grace is no longer called for
before meals: farmed fish multiply
without His intercession.
Bread production rises through
disease-resistant grains devised
scientifically to mitigate His faults.

Yet, though we rebelled against Him
like adolescents, uplifted to see
an oppressive father banished -
a bearded hermit - to the desert,
we confess to missing Him at times.

Miss Him during the civil wedding
when, at the blossomy altar
of the registrar's desk, we wait in vain
to be fed a line containing words
like "everlasting" and "divine".

Miss Him when the TV scientist
explains the cosmos through equations,
leaving our planet to revolve on its axis
aimlessly, a wheel skidding in snow.

Miss Him when the radio catches a snatch
of plainchant from some echoey priory;
when the gospel choir raises its collective voice
to ask Shall We Gather at the River?
or the forces of the oratorio converge
on I Know That My Redeemer Liveth
and our contracted hearts lose a beat.

Miss Him when a choked voice at
the crematorium recites the poem
about fearing no more the heat of the sun.

Miss Him when we stand in judgement
on a lank Crucifixion in an art museum,
its stripe-like ribs testifying to rank.

Miss Him when the gamma-rays
recorded on the satellite graph
seem arranged into a celestial score,
the music of the spheres,
the Ave Verum Corpus of the observatory lab.

Miss Him when we stumble on the breast lump
for the first time and an involuntary prayer
escapes our lips; when a shadow crosses
our bodies on an x-ray screen; when we receive
a transfusion of foaming blood
sacrificed anonymously to save life.

Miss Him when we call out His name
spontaneously in awe or anger
as a woman in the birth ward
calls to her long-dead mother.

Miss Him when the linen-covered
dining table holds warm bread rolls,
shiny glasses of red wine.

Miss Him when a dove swoops
from the orange grove in a tourist village
just as the monastery bell begins to take its toll.

Miss Him when our journey leads us
under leaves of Gothic tracery,
an arch of overlapping branches that meet
like hands in Michelangelo's creation.

Miss Him when, trudging past a church,
we catch a residual blast of incense,
a perfume on par with the fresh-baked loaf
which Milosz compared to happiness.

Miss Him when our newly-fitted kitchen
comes in Shaker-style and we order
a matching set of Mother Ann Lee chairs.

Miss Him when we listen to the prophecy
of astronomers that the visible galaxies
will recede as the universe expands.

Miss Him when the sunset makes
its presence felt in the stained glass
window of the fake antique lounge bar.

Miss Him the way an uncoupled glider
riding the evening thermals misses its tug.

Miss Him, as the lovers shrugging
shoulders outside the cheap hotel
ponder what their next move should be.

Even feel nostalgic, odd days,
for His Second Coming,
like standing in the brick
dome of a dovecote
after the birds have flown.

Moving On

2007-08-15T13:59:00.001-05:00

"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us." -Helen Keller.

I've been thinking about this quote recently. How incredibly easy it is to get so wrapped up in our failures, our broken hearts, dashed dreams, and deflated hopes, etc, that we can't see the wide open pastures right in front of us. I don't know if I'd say that I subscribe to the notion that "everything happens for a reason" (I think it sounds like one of those things people say when they don't know what else to say and they are trying [in vain] to cheer you up) but I do firmly believe that while we cannot control what happens to us, we can control how we react to it.

Yes, my heart was broken. Yes, I cried. A lot. I cursed him. I was angry. I wanted to break things. The wind and rage howled through my heart, violent tears rained down my face and my whole body shook with what seemed like flashes of lightening and thunder in my core. There were a few wild nights in my world. But just as the storms that Mother Nature bestows upon our physical Earth eventually lose strength and blow through, so too has this storm inside begun to pass. The diligence of good friends, the company of beloved furry critters, and the healing power of fresh air, sunshine and yoga have all helped to pull me through.

Rain washes the earth and is necessary to sustain life, and without it there would be no rainbows. One day soon I will find I have come through this stronger and better off than I was before, this chapter will close and I will begin anew writing the next.

This summer has been an entirely unexpected unfortunate series of events, and now more than ever before I await my favorite season of autumn with anticipation and hope for renewal.

The Power of Self-Delusion

2007-08-10T20:06:00.001-05:00

I just realized that I knew a month ago that things with Mr. X. were already over. But I wanted so very much for things to work out that I talked myself back into it. Funny how we can convince ourselves of anything and become completely blind to what is staring us in the face if we want it strongly enough. Previous journal entry:

July 8, 2007 10:30 pm:

I am at such an utter loss. I, who over-thinks absolutely EVERYTHING, am at a loss. For words. For emotions. For ideas, reasons, rationalizations, suggestions, energy to even contemplate any of this anymore. What to do? What to feel? I am paralyzed. Should I be mad? Hurt? Do I even have the right to be? Am I missing something? Maybe there's some simple explanation for all of this. But why do I feel so betrayed? Maybe because I betrayed myself. Letting my guard down, letting myself dream again, hope that maybe this time it would work out. Offering my heart, only to have it quietly- politely- declined; so well done, in fact, I didn't even notice the refusal at first. Am I wrong? But it seems to me that you checked out of this a long time ago. Maybe you were never even in it. But I was. You see, I'm ham, you're eggs.

The End

2007-08-09T13:44:00.001-05:00

So dear cyberspace friends, the saga with Mr. X. is officially over. As quickly as he came into my life and captivated me with his beautiful blue eyes, his sweet and gentle nature, his loving caress, his intellect and witty charm; he is now gone.

All that is left is a gaping hole in my heart and memories of the future I'd imagined with him that now stands no chance of ever coming to fruition.

I try to remind myself that I am strong, that life goes on, that I still have a lot to enjoy, to be proud of, to look forward to. But somehow, none of that really means very much anymore. He breathed life into my life in a way that no one had before. What was once in vibrant color and high-definition, is now broadcast on 13" black and white with bad reception.

How do you make yourself un-love someone? I don't even know if that's possible, but it seems like the only way I will get past this. Because living knowing that someone I love is not a part of my life is unbearable. I've become a teeth-grinder again. I can't sleep. Tears well up in my eyes at the tiniest reminder or thought of him, and often at very inopportune moments. I push my body to its limits to bike farther, harder, longer, as though putting on more miles on two wheels will help my heart to escape his hold on me.

And so it is.

Letter to Mr. X.

2007-08-07T20:30:00.000-05:00

Don't worry about me kids, I'm OK. Needing closure, finality, I sent this letter to Mr. X.:

My dearest Mr. X.,

I suppose you are probably surprised to be hearing from me so soon, and via such an unconventional method (snail mail?!?! What’s that?) I just have some things I wanted to say to you that I don’t think I could articulate over the phone or in person. More than anything I want you do know how much I do still care about you. I understand that what you’re going through is critically important for you right now- how could I be angry with you for taking care of yourself? I am angry with the gods, angry at fate, angry at the wind- that somehow being with me was the trigger that sent you down your path of self-discovery- but I cannot be angry with you.

A few things I’ve learned that might come in useful: Make a conscious decision to take this time for yourself, make a sincere commitment to work at it. Allow yourself to be selfish without guilt. Re-evaluate frequently. Don’t be afraid to examine everything about your life closely. Be genuinely honest with yourself, anything less and you’ll only be cheating yourself. Find what gives your life meaning and never compromise it for anyone. Write prolifically, it can help sort things out. If nothing else, it often makes you feel better. Search out new experiences. Do what you love on a regular basis. Sleep. Eat well. Exercise. Taking care of your body takes care of your soul. And, take chances, you might be surprised.

And don’t worry about me. A part of my heart will always belong to you, but it’s the size of Mt. Vesuvius, so but that’s ok. Take comfort in knowing that “The fact that something ends does not negate the time spent together.” Perhaps with time and contemplation, we will come to see that something good did come of this time our lives spent coursing the same path.

Hanging in the Balance

2007-08-06T18:04:00.001-05:00

So I realize I never really followed up with the "Saga of Mr. X" that I started a while back. What can I say? It's been a busy summer. Full-time school compounded with my accident and subsequent surgery and follow-up doc visits and hand therapy- it has not been a time conducive to blogging.

And unfortunately, the second episode of this may very well be the last. After three months of pretty amazingly good times, my future with Mr. X. hangs in the balance.

He called me yesterday afternoon, obviously with something on his mind, yet we ignored the elephant in the living room with small talk for a few minutes. His mum had been in town visiting, I'd had my birthday party pub crawl last Friday, so chit-chat away we went. And then, bluntly, he said "I've had a few things on my mind." "Oh?" I queried. "So, um, what are you thinking about us?" Oh boy. That kind of question never means good things. So we talked a bit. I asked for clarification, he told me how he's been thinking about how we don't seem to share very much in common (an opinion I'd argue actually, but that's not the point) and then he laid down the clincher "I'm not so sure I'm ready for a relationship." Ouch.

Hurt, angry, disappointed, sad. Yes, I select answer "E", all of the above. But, more than anything, I feel more than a little deceived. An odd thing to feel, I know, but it occurred to me while I was biking home this afternoon. I'd been feeling ill at ease ever since this terrible conversation, but I couldn't really put a finger on it. Yes, I've fully invested myself in this relationship and I would most definitely suffer a loss if it ended, but as much as I would hate it, I'm a resilient gal and life would go on, albeit a little less contentedly for a while. I've done it before, I could do it again. That's not it. It's the deception that I don't know how to deal with.

You see, I've dated guys who've told me they're "not ready for a relationship", and while I could post a whole separate entry about the soundness of that sentiment, that isn't the point either. Whether it was after one date, a few dates, or a few months, hearing this line is a blow that one can never protect against. I was actually grateful to the one who said it to me the soonest, because at least I hadn't gone and completely fell for him yet.

But, I like to think I'm a smart girl, and that I've learned from my past broken hearts so that now I ask. Fairly early on Mr. X and I had the ever-important "exes" conversation. I told him that I'd been engaged at one point, that I'm on friendly terms with another one of my exes, he told me about his ex-girlfriends, especially notable that he'd recently (5 months ago) broken up with a girl he'd dated for 6 years and had lived with for around 3 of those years. Yikes! I thought. So I asked, in a more eloquent manner of course, "So, are you really over her?" He assured me he was. Later on after a little bump in the road, again I asked. I checked in a few times after that. I made very clear that if he had any questions, issues, doubts, that I was there for him, that I wanted to hear them, that it was better to bring things up early before they become major issues, etc. After getting the same affirmative "I'm ok, things are good" type answers, I stopped checking in. I didn't want to seem insecure, be that annoying girlfriend, always wanting to "talk about us." I started to gain a little more trust, I thought it was "safe" to look ahead, to make plans, I thought we were on a little more solid ground. I thought I had done everything I could to prevent exactly what has now fallen in my lap.

And, aside from open and honest conversations that I thought we had had, the manner in which we met also provided me a certain sense of security, which unfortunately turned out to be false. We connected through an online dating website. Perhaps this is naïve on my part, but I always thought that before one puts up a profile on those websites you would have already gone through a sort of honest conversation with yourself and have come to the conclusion that you are indeed ready for a sincere and candid search for a meaningful relationship, not just a few dates. Isn't anything less kind of false advertising?

In the end, this isn't about placing blame, because as with everything, I am 100% responsible, but so is he. It may even not be about "saving" this relationship. Blogging is for me, in a way, therapeutic, a place to express myself in hopes of working through my feelings, gaining a little insight, and with any luck, doing better next time.

For now, here I sit, waiting in the balance, avoiding finishing the conversation that we started yesterday. I was (am, technically) in the midst of final exams so I kind of used that as an excuse to postpone this chat. But perhaps more than needing to concentrate and study, I just want to hang on to this shred of hope a little longer, to pray that maybe, just maybe, this impending conversation will actually be a discussion or a negotiation, not simply Mr. X. informing me of what he has already decided on his own.

I can't bear to deal with another broken heart just yet…

Revisiting Jewel

2007-07-05T21:20:00.001-05:00

For whatever reason, I recently picked up my copy of Jewel's book of poetry, "A Night Without Armor." Regardless of her poetic correctness or talent (or, some say, lack thereof,) as I page through it, I can't help but be reminded of my teenaged self, of how much her words spoke to me years ago. I often felt like such a ravaged and tortured soul back then (didn't we all!?!?) Now, all I can think is "thank god I got through that!!!" Here are a few of my favorites, for old times' sake:
Saved from Myself

How often I've cried out
in silent tongue
to be saved
from myself

in the middle of the night
too afraid
to move

horrified the answer
may be beyond the
capability of my
own two hands

so small

(no one should feel this alone)

Insecurity

you don't call
I check again
I become uneasy—
is this a frame?
Suddenly I'm not so sure
I check my sources
each conversation becomes a crumb
how easily I'm led
how stupid I've been
to believe
you could be
loving me
you who can not be seduced
by anything other than
the temperance
of need
each one facilitating the next
and suddenly I see my place
the phone rings
you say hello
but I don't believe you

I Guess What I Wanted Was

I guess what I
wanted was
to hear

you'd stay with me always.

I guess what I
wanted was
to see

those hands vowing
never to leave my own.

I guess what I
wanted was
to know

I am not loving in vain.

Lost

Lost
is a puzzle
of stars
that breathes
like water
and chews
like stone

Alone
is a reminder
of how far
acceptance
is from
understanding

Fear
is a bird
that believes itself
into extinction

Desperation
the honest recognition
of a false truth

Hope
seeing who you really are
at your highest
is who you will become

Grace
the refinement of a
Soul through time

Fear of Being Alone

2007-06-10T13:17:00.000-05:00

When I was growing up, one of my greatest fears used to be that I'd "end up alone;" not physically alone of course, being isolated from the world and having no contact with people, but emotionally, spiritually, and psychically without a mate. It was one of those irrational fears that for some reason I kept coming back to, I used to cry myself asleep afraid that no one would ever, or could ever, love me "that" way. I figured it was one of those "raging hormone" teenage mood swings that really was without explanation, but sometimes I still wonder why I would think such a thing, and, perhaps more interestingly, if those deep-seeded fears have had an affect on me as an adult.

I witnessed my mom become a very strong woman, not by choice, but for her own sake and for that of her children, due to the progressively declining mental health and emotional stability of my father. What had been a partnership became a one-woman show. Somehow she got through it, but at times it deeply saddens me to think of all those years of hardship that she endured, without a partner. Granted, she was still married to my father then, but he wasn't present in the way a spouse is intended to be. That's the worst kind of lonely- the kind that you feel even when you're "with" someone. I witnessed this unfold in my junior high and high school years, though I didn't really understand until recently the possible implications these events may have had on my life.

I don't still carry those fears of truly ending up alone; whether or not I have any sort of "romantic" relationship in my life I know that I still have friends and family that I hold dear. Perhaps my fear now is of letting someone get too close, of letting myself become that vulnerable. I realize that this is not a unique fear, but I wonder if the way I come into it might be. My mother "survived" because her instinct of self-preservation kicked into overdrive. She had two young children that needed her and a partner who could no longer be counted on. Is my self-preservation instinct also on overdrive, but unnecessarily? Sometimes I wonder if I am really as "career-driven" as I think I am, or if I am just insuring myself a livelihood should my partner fall apart; or if my refusal to "actually" move in with a partner (as in not having an "back-up plan") stems from all of this. Consciously, or more likely not, life has taught me that the only person I am guaranteed to spend the rest of my life with is myself. It is extremely difficult for me to let anyone really take care of me. I wonder then, is my self-described identity of "fiercely independent, driven woman" really just a guise for my fear of being left alone?

Shannon Olson's "Bunny Theory" of Dating

2007-05-31T22:58:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite books of recent past has been Shannon Olson's "Children of God Go Bowling." It is a perfect read for the late-twenties to thirtysomething-ish female who is besieged by reminders that her life is anything but normal. When it seems like everyone around is blossoming in marital bliss, owns a home, is having babies, blah blah blah, and yet in this march to adulthood, somehow you've been left behind... It is truly a hilarious and heartbreaking story of a semifictional woman (part autobiography) making "her life happen when it doesn't quite happen for her."

This particular passage came to mind last night when I was reflecting on recent problematic events in my own dating life:

I called my brother and told him about my date. Even though my brother had been married for almost ten years, he was still usually good about offering reassuring stories from what he called his "Frozen Burrito Days."

"I don't know," my brother said. "My experience of dating was that women were usually really timid and cautious.... and that the best thing to do was to back off a little and let them set the pace."

He called it his "Bunny Theory." Not all, but a lot of women were like rabbits: nervous because they had so often and so aggressively been pursued; and the best thing to do was to set the carrot in the grass and wait quietly. If they were interested, they'd come and check it out.

"I guess as an image that could be misinterpreted," he said.

"Right," I said. "But I get it."

Anyways, it seemed to him that instead of being patient, most guys would see the bunny in the grass and go, "BUNNY!" and start chasing after it, which was the cause of the whole problem in the first place.

"So, I just need to find the guy who won't shout 'BUNNY!,'" I said.

"It's a theory," said my brother.

Identifying details aside-- someone absolutely incredible has come into my life recently and I couldn't be more excited. We'll call him Mr. X. So, what's the problem?!? My damn overeagerness. I haven't seriously dated anyone in a while, mostly by choice (school, volunteering, work, family, etc = lack of time), partly because I wasn't finding anyone I actually wanted to date who felt the same way towards me. So when Mr. X and I hit it off (like "rocket blast-off" style hit it off!) I latched on like gorilla glue and immediately hit the fast-forward button to infinity. All of a sudden it was if we'd been together 6 months when technically we were still on date #3 (or #4?) Granted I wasn't alone in this venture (it does take two to tango, after all!) but I feel a lot of fault. I recognized what was happening and did nothing to stop it because I was loving every second of it. I figured that he must be OK since he was right there in it with me.

But, he wasn't OK. I found out after the fact that while I was surfing on that tidal wave of "new-relationship bliss," turns out Mr. X is still kind of doggie-paddling in a way, trying to get the hang of it. I was so far gone, I didn't even notice. And for that, Mr. X, from the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry.

What have I learned from all of this? More than anything , my impatient nature has been confirmed (just in case I'd missed that about myself!!) But now I've seen more than just the fact that I am impatient, now I recognize just how destructive it can be. Secondly, I've learned that it isn't just women who can be like Shannon Olson's "bunnies." When it comes to dating, I bet there are just as many guys out there who get scared off by women as there are the other way around. We'd probably all be better off being patient with those we adore.

And since patience doesn't come naturally to some (i.e. moi!) taking up a new hobby may be helpful. Personally, I've started home coffee bean roasting as a distraction :) Yes, I am now an official coffee snob. So, when Mr. X. comes "hopping out of the grass" so to speak, I'll have a kick-ass cup of joe waiting for him. More on that later....

HOPE

2007-05-22T00:20:00.001-05:00

Peace Activist Reverend William Sloane Coffin dies at 81. I know this is old news, but I was thinking about it today.

See NPR story.

"A true patriot is someone who maintains a lover's quarrel with his country."

A few nations have arrogated to themselves the right to build, own, threaten to use nuclear weapons while policing the world around them against their production. Well, nuclear apartheid will not succeed any more than racial apartheid succeeded in South Africa.

"Hope is a state of mind independent of the state of the world. So if your heart's full of hope, you can be persistent when you can't be optimistic; you can keep the faith despite the evidence- knowing that only in so doing has the evidence any chance of changing. So, while I'm not optimistic, I am always very hopeful."

Horoscopes

2007-05-17T20:12:00.001-05:00

So, I don't normally "buy" these things, I read them for fun (doesn't everyone!?!?!) They are ususally so vague and not exactly applicable, but this one from yesterday really gave me pause:

Leadership brings responsibility. When something goes wrong, there's no fairy godmother to make it all better. You're accontable for all of it, and that doesn't scare you one iota. This is your moment in the sun.

What is weird is that just Monday I got a phone call that I'd been selected as the student chair of a major interdisciplinary public health project at the Univ. of MN this fall. I had to fill out a whole huge application about my leadership qualities, send in a resume and cover letter and go through the interview process. Not only was I selected to be a team leader, I'm the head "boss lady" of all the other student team leaders. Funny thing is that I'm not scared or nervous, but more energized and excited.... just like the horoscope said. The math geek part of me says "well, duh, think about probablity... of course those horoscopes are going to be right some of the time." Which I know is true (hey, I watched MathNet on Square One!) But still, when it gets it that right, it makes me stop and think. And blog.... :) Be well. Time to go check on dinner.

A Lesson in Letting Go

2007-05-01T20:57:00.000-05:00

I was at yoga tonight, and towards the end we were doing "hip openers", in other words, really deep stretches for the hips, which can be stubborn buggers. The instructor said you really have to "let go" and to get into the stretch in order for the posture to really do any good. She commented that Kapotasana is "a lesson in letting go." I got to thinking about that. I've heard similar comments in class before, you have to "give in" to the stretch, that some poses are submissive, you have to surrender to gravity, etc… in order for the asana to be effective. It makes sense, really. If you hold back, you won't get that release of tension, that feeling that makes you go "aahhhh" that is so amazing. But I never really thought of the concept as a metaphor for life until tonight. In a lot of ways, you just have to learn to let go, or a) you'll injure yourself, or b) you'll hinder yourself from experiencing something really amazing. Of course there are times to fight for a posture, like the balancing series, or times to be strong and proud, like Virabhadrasana, and there are times like these in life as well. But sometimes, letting go of something will actually open doors and free you to experience even greater joys. But letting go, surrendering control to sink deep into an unknown-- that is scary. To let go of your failures, instead of letting them define you, means you have to find the courage to once again look forward and move on. To finally put to rest a relationship that is long over means you don't get to daydream about him anymore, idealize what was, or constantly size up potential mates next to him- knowing they will never be what he was, but also realizing they might be so much more. And it also means letting go of those that have hurt you, and not being allowed to use "damaged goods" as an excuse to explain why you're not "out there" again. Because beyond the failure, the regret, the pain and heartache, is something more, something different, that will feel so amazingly wonderful. You just have to trust yourself to go there.

Craving

2007-04-29T20:07:00.000-05:00

Have you ever had a desire so deep and for so long that pretty soon you forget what it was to begin with, and all that is left is an unshakable sense of loss? For the past couple of days I feel like I have been walking around unwhole somehow, but I can't explain why. What is missing? Has it been that long since I "checked in" with myself that I no longer recognize that a part of me has gone astray? Or is it something so subtle that I simply didn't notice? Or, rather, is it not that something is missing, but something has changed? I hate these feelings of ambivalent absence.

Al Gore, Zen parables, and renewed inspiration

2007-03-04T16:35:00.001-06:00

Ever since I saw Al Gore speak at a Planned Parenthood event last November, I've had a renewed sense of reverence and admiration for the man; a respect that goes beyond politics and wistfully wishing he was President, but more of a sense of pride for what he has become. The events surrounding the 2000 elections were intense, humiliating, immensely public and heart-breaking. For anyone to come back from that, and in the incredible way that Mr. Gore has, is nothing short of amazing. Here's a man who was laughed off the stage of politics, who has now risen ABOVE such political silliness to devote his time and energy to something that he has cared so deeply about for so many years. And it has paid off, with an Oscar in hand and a Nobel Peace Prize on the horizion. Rather than "get back on the horse that threw him," now he rides an elephant.

That's a fitting enough image. I just came across this Zen parable:

A monk sits cross-legged in the midlde of the road, meditating on existence. A powerful insight consumes him: He and the Universe are One. He intuits further that the Universe, being One, would never harm itself. And as long as he stays connected, he too will never come to harm. During this timeless thought, he feels the ground shaking. He looks up and sees an elephant walking down the very road on which he sits. He smiles inwardly and continues to meditate. As the animal draws closer, he opens his eyes again. A man is standing on the back of the elephant, waving his arms and yelling, "Get out of the road! Get out of the road!" Completely confident in his realization, he returns to his meditation. The elephant squashes him. As he lies there hemorrhaging to death, he calls out, "How did this happen? I don't understand." His Zen master comes out of the ditch, and says, "Didn't you hear me tell you to get out of the road?"

Let's not be that monk. Listen to the man riding the elephant.

"If we believe that we can create our own reality, if we believe that the instruments of mass persuasion are more important than the truth, and that we can use the mass media and the influences over those who guard the gateways to it, in lieu of trying to conform policies and decisions to the best evidence, then we invite trouble." -Al Gore, November 2006

Unrequited lust of days gone by

2007-01-01T18:25:00.001-06:00

One from the "vault" for your reading pleasure. Identifying details changed, of course, it is highly unlikely the person this was written about will ever read these words...

I knew from the moment I met you that there was something there. It surprised me, yet calmed me. I knew that I couldn't leave the Café without trying a little bit harder. Something beyond myself drove me to levels of brazenness I haven't ever visited before.
I enlisted your friend, in hopes that some extra influence might drive you to overcome your shyness and pick up the phone. You did, and we went out for dinner.

I remember the details of that night as if it just happened. It was Monday September 12th, 2005. The restaurant was perfect, quiet, just the right amount of "background noise", candelight, corner booth, away from the crowd. We shared a bottle of merlot from Washington, and ordered crimini mushrooms, roast beef with caramelized red onions, chicken leg with basil pesto, asparagus and seared raw tuna with wasabi. It was all incredible tasty, but my perception of the culinary talent of the chef was most likely influenced by the company I was dining with...

Your eyes danced in the candlelight… they sparkled beautiful blue and their gaze seemed to never leave my own. I could make love to you just by looking into your eyes. Words escape me as I desperately try to capture all the magic of that evening. I fell for you before we even got the check. Alas, I had only one night with you; one lousy, incredible night. There was palpable chemistry between us; when we touched for that first time, when our hands grazed across each other as we sat on your couch talking, it was as if a surge of electricity pulsed through my body. I know you must have felt it too- I saw the look in your eyes after we touched- a look of shock, yet calm, and desire; a kind of "what do I do now?" look. Wanting more, yet not wanting to offend. Your kisses were so passionate; there was that perfect combination of insatiable desire and gentle tenderness, a powerful recipe for bliss whose absence will haunt me for many nights to come. Your touch brought me to levels of delight that I have never before known. Such pleasure, such passion is more than mere manifestation of desires of the flesh; more than chemical signals eliciting physiological responses; our souls, our spirits, that which makes us human, were dancing that night. I am as certain of this as I am of my own name; what I don't know is how such a powerful connection could have occurred after we had been together for such a short while. I have no other explanation than to leave this to being one of life's mysteries. I've learned not to question these things when they happen, but simply to embrace them for what they are.

So many circumstances came together at just the right moment for us to have met and spend that night together. Was it an anomoly of nature? Perhaps it was, and maybe even one of the best nights of my life.

And maybe that's all it was meant to be as much as I wished for more.

TV Appearance

2006-09-18T23:46:00.002-05:00

So, I'm a little late getting this posted, but I was interviewed on a local news program a couple of weeks ago. Enjoy! Go to the link and click on "video". There is some ad first, the clip is after that.

http://kare11.com/news/news_article.aspx?storyid=133974

Response/Ability

2006-08-13T13:50:00.000-05:00

Response/ability
by Bernard Gunther

the game we play
is let's pretend
and pretend
we're not
pretending

we choose to
forget
who we are
and then forget
that we've
forgotten

who are we really?

the center
that watches
and runs the show
that can choose
which way
it will go

the I AM
consciousness
that powerful
loving perfect
reflection
of the cosmos

but in our attempt
to cope with
early situations
we chose or were
hypnotized into
a passive position

to avoid
punishment
or the loss of love
we chose to deny
our response/ability

pretending that
things just
happened
or that we were
being controlled
taken over

we put ourselves
down
and have become
used to this
masochistic
posture

this weakness

this indecisiveness

but we are
in reality
free
a center
of cosmic energy

your will
is your power

don't pretend
you don't have it

or you won't.

Since When am I "Pre-Pregnant"?

2006-06-29T23:29:00.000-05:00

Last month the Washington Post reported on new federal guidelines which ask all females capable of conception to treat themselves-- and to be treated by the health care system-- as "pre-pregnant", apart from whether they plan to get pregnant anytime soon or not.
In theory, the goal in creating these guidelines was to emphasize the importance of managing risk factors prior to pregnancy and to increase public awareness of the importance of preconception health.

At first glance, these concerns seem valid, as so much vital development occurs between conception and the time a pregnancy is confirmed. Indeed, the notion of preconception care is nothing new. Most of these guidelines are already well known to pregnant women and those seeking to become pregnant.

The problem, however, lies in the fact that they are to be universally applied to women. The very idea that every woman, regardless of her own reproductive plans, is simply a vehicle for birth reinforces unjust stereotypes that women's rights movements have worked so hard to crumble. Have I had "pre-pregnant" stamped across my forehead since puberty and have somehow failed to notice all these years?

The article does state that "experts acknowledge that women with no plans to get pregnant in the near future may resist preconception care", but this feeble concession hardly makes up for the dehumanizing nature of these guidelines.

Authors of the guidelines and supporting organizations (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology, the March of Dimes, and the National Center on Birth Defects and Developmental Disabilities) justify the new guidelines by pointing to the fact that nearly half of all pregnancies in the United States are unplanned and that the U.S. infant mortality rate is higher than those of most other industrialized nations.

While this does raise concern, it seems to me that a more appropriate response is to try to find the answer to the question "WHY?", rather than apply a band-aid to the situation.
Why is it that so many pregnancies in this country are unplanned? Could it be the absence of medically accurate sex education in schools? Perhaps lack of funding for family planning programs is a factor. Do the FDA delays in granting over-the-counter status to emergency contraception play a role?

Is anyone in Washington asking these questions?

While these new guidelines seek to address a very real problem, the method chosen demonstrates once again how this administration is using federal agencies to further its own conservative social agenda while failing to provide any concrete solution for the citizens it supposedly serves.

Meeting Geena Davis

2006-05-23T00:38:00.000-05:00

This past Friday I was had the privilege of attending the welcome dinner and reception of the Minnesota Go Run Political Leadership Training conference. I was there on behalf of Planned Parenthood, where I'm interning this summer in the Public Affairs department. The woman I work with there thought this might be a good first assignment for me. Little did I know the evening would involve a brush with fame too!

This weekend-long leadership training event was sponsored by the White House Project, a national, nonpartisan, not-for-profit organization which aims to advance womens leadership in all communities and sectors, up to the U.S. Presidency (hence the name of the organization.) They strive to support women and the issues that allow women to lead in their own lives and in the world (hence why I was there with Planned Parenthood.)

At first the evening seemed like a typical conference welcome reception: cocktail hour in the lobby, opening remarks from the organizer, a musical performance by a local singer/songwriter, and buffet dinner followed by keynote speaker.

Except the keynote speaker was Geena Davis.

In a way, she is a logical choice. Not just because she is a celebrity and plays the President on TV, but because she embraces the role so whole-heartedly and actively supports the advancement of women into leadership positions. The character she portrays is fictional of course, but it is just real enough to make us take pause. That moment in one of the early episodes, when she walked around the oval office alone for the first time, truly realizing I am the first female president of the United States inspired awe and sent chills down my spine.

Hopefully the moment will come that some woman will have those thoughts in the real oval office, not in the TV set version. Fulfilling that goal is what the White House Project and the weekend training was all about.

The rest of the conversation between Ms. Davis and Marie Wilson, the President of the White House Project, was entertaining and inspirational, covering a whole range of topics, from why women dont run for office, becoming comfortable being in positions of authority, and learning to reframe questions to finding the courage to lead and trying to explain why it has taken this long to get a woman to the White House. (To which my favorite response was because we dont have the political will to be a democracy.)

After dinner we adjourned to the piano bar for desserts and a reception of Minnesota womens, cultural and political organizations. There I was, doing my thing handing out literature and signing people up for Planned Parenthoods email list, when here comes Geena Davis stopping by my table while making the rounds. I was really impressed that she stuck around after her required commitment of the dinner discussion to talk to ordinary local women about their issues, their goals, what office theyre running for or which organization they represent. She is truly a lovely, articulate and gracious woman- who now has a Stand Up for Choice! sticker from me! If only I'd had my camera...

Now if only all my weekends could start out like that!

SXSW 2006 in a nutshell

2006-03-29T00:25:00.000-06:00

The long overdue commentary:

At this point it seems almost irrelevant to be blogging about SXSW, but it was such an incredible time I can't let it go unspoken about! It was serious rejuvenation and major refueling for my over-studied mind!

I flew to Austin on Wednesday, getting into town early enough to catch most of that night's fun. I still remember seeing 6th street for the first time- a complete whirlwind of excitement; there was a palpable buzz in the air, felt by the music industry people and music lovers alike. We tried to get in to see Jose Gonzalez, to no avail, so we hit up Emo's and saw Field Music, Serena Manesh, and Of Montreal, then we zipped over to Parish and finished out the night with Art Brut (who just played tonight at the 7th Street Entry, which I was unfortunately unable to go to!) Poured ourselves into bed around 3 am.

Thursday came all too quickly. We rose and were off seeking beverage and entertainment, which we found at our hometown radio station's gig on the 18th floor of the Capital Place hotel. In a nondescript conference room Mary Lucia was broadcasting live for all you back home to get in on the fun. We saw live "in studio" performances by Nicolai Dunger and one of this year's "buzz bands" Editors. She even asked front man Tom Smith about his mum's scrapbooking. Now that girl has balls to make the boy blush live on air! Gotta love her. Most cool of all was running into Eddie from Art Brut on a random street corner on our way to the next bit of fun. Very cool guy, told him we really enjoyed the show, made some small talk. Love it when the musicians are nice, normal people, not all bratty and full of themselves.

That evening's official SXSW shows were a raucous good time. We started off the night with a little alt country in the stylings of Carolyn Mark at Nuno's upstairs, then took a slow walk through downtown over to our next venue so we could catch Gomez and Nickle Creek. Before they went on we caught the end of Fiery Furnaces and Dresden Dolls. Never had so much fun at a concert as I did seeing Gomez and NC. Awesome performances, right up front feeling the music. Once again bedtime was very late.

Day three, Friday. Daytime extravaganza was killer. We dragged ourselves out of bed to make it to a 10:30 performance by Jose Gonzalez since we'd missed him on Wednesday night; it was definitely worth the lost sleep. After breakfast we hit the Pitchfork mag party for goodies and free beer and busted our guts laughing to the comedian hosting the event, Patton O. And what do you know, good ole Jose is playing there too! This guy just doesn't stop! Even better, I got him to call a girlfriend who wasn't able to make it and had really wanted to see him. She loved that voicemail! We found another party at the Mean-Eyed Cat where we celebrated St. Patty's day with free beer and bbq and the tunes of Dirty Pretty Things among others.

Friday night official performances were a bit disappointing. Tried to get in to see Editors, but all the buzz made that impossible; lines were down the block. So, we headed out to La Zona Rosa for the other buzz band, the Arctic Monkeys. I got in, only to be disappointed, so much so that I left halfway through and reunited with my group at the Pecan Street Ale House. We finished out the night with a fun performance by the London-based Irish band Neck.

The final day of SXSW came and we embraced it. It had been an overwhelming three nights, but we were determined to make the best of the last day and night. After loading up the PT cruiser for the long drive home, we headed into town. On the advice we'd received from fellow music lovers and SXSW attendees, we sought out the Yard Dog record store for (more!) free beer and lunch, and performances by Chantam County Line, Tres Chicas and Billy Bragg. Gotta love that! We chilled for a bit in this fun neighborhood known as South Congress, then hung out at the Spider House coffee shop where we were entertained with a performance by the Minneapolis-based band Birthday Suits. After some dinner, it was back downtown for one final night, sigh….

We kicked off the evening at Stubb's BBQ with a local Austin band called What Made Milwaukee Famous, who definitely know what they're doing. Might check them out this summer when they tour the Midwest. Following WMMF, we had the awesome (and incredibly sexy!) Rhett Miller of the Old 97's. What an experience that was, I finally know why people like to be feet away from the stage! After Rhett, we headed over to the Blender Bar to catch the Norwegian band, The Jessica Fletchers. And, finally, we finished out the experience at Exodus with a performance by Nine Black Alps.

After a quick stop at Whataburger, we hit the road for the l….o…..n…..g…. drive home back to Mpls.

Overall, it was a truly unique experienced. I got a crash course in indie rock, I met musicians, industry folk, and music lovers of all kinds, and had one of the best spring breaks of my life.

packin' my bags...

2006-03-15T00:11:00.000-06:00

In less than 24 hours I will be in Austin TX, brew in hand, listening to what will be only the beginning of some very kick-ass tunes at SXSW. What a week it has been, I'll spare you the details, but this little getaway is a long-awaited reprieve.... stay tuned for what promises to be a raucous good time!

Grocery Store Adventures

2006-02-26T19:11:00.000-06:00

Does anybody else have random conversations with other shoppers when they go to the grocery store, or is that a "Minnesota nice" phenomenon?Today, I actually had TWO conversations. One was in the produce section when I helped an elderly woman identify produce (she was trying to buy fennel.) Don't you just love that? I remember the first time I had to buy leeks-- I had no idea what they even looked like. The other one was in the bulk foods section where another shopper and I discussed oatmeal. I prefer quick oats, whereas he prefers the kind you have to cook. Then we talked about what we put in our oatmeal- blueberries for him, dried cranberries and vanilla for me. What a great idea he says- and runs off to go find some for himself. All this exchange happening in a matter of seconds. I may never see these two people again in my entire life, but who knows how our paths may have been altered by that brief encounter. To this day, I still tell the story about the woman in the Parisien grocery store six years ago who helped me buy ingredients to bake a birthday cake for a friend. I will never forget her kindness in what was then a frightening and unfamiliar world to me. In stark contrast, also at the store today was youngish guy with his iPod ear buds shoved in his ears, existing in his own mind, disconnected from the world, blocking other shoppers and completely oblivious to their requests to please let them pass by. I know it is only grocery shopping, but what a metaphor it could be for life. My experience brings a grin to my face- I love that kind of stuff, human interaction in its rawest form. I feel engaged in the world, a part of what is happening, rather than a passive observer. Then there is iPod man, stuck in his own little world, not even paying attention to what is going on (not to mention probably damaging his ears!) Which do you choose?

Bring back the gridlock

2006-02-22T23:45:00.000-06:00

So I was listening to Fresh Air on NPR (I know, such a nerd) and the guest made this comment about the good old days of government gridlock. huh, you say? His point was the fact that this president has yet to veto a single bill put before him by congress really makes you wonder. That's what balance of power is all about. This government was designed such that any one branch does not have absolute control. So, maybe gridlock is actually a sign of a healthy balanced government, when one party can't just "get away" with anything they want, and true bipartisan cooperation will actually happen.