Authentic Me Coming Out

I would like to attempt to live a more honest life, a more open life, and a more loving life.  How can I live life to the fullest if I am not an open and honest person about who I am - not only with myself, but also with those I love?  And how can I love someone to the fullest if there is not open communication between us -- if they do not know who I am and what I stand for, and if I keep that from them?  How can I live up to my full potential to be the greatest human being I can be if I am not comfortable in my own skin and walk each day in fear of being judged or abandoned by those whose opinions matter most to me?

 

The Human Rights Campaign's resource guide to "coming out" opens with this line:

 

"Being brave doesn’t mean that you’re not scared. It means that if you are scared, you do the thing you’re afraid of anyway."

 

This is such a strong statement to me.  I am a three-plus generation "agoraphobe."  I put that in quotations because it has never been diagnosed in my family, but agoraphobia involves repeated attacks of fear or anxiety, fear of being unable to escape a situation, and fear of being outside or alone outside.  Agoraphobic people tend to be homebodies and depend on others.  They feel uncomfortable in certain (sometimes specific) public situations.  All of this describes certain unnamed members of my family and certain symptoms they have handed down to me.

 

So, you see, I know something about being afraid and having to be brave.  And it is VERY hard to do -- whether physically or emotionally.

 

The guide goes on to state, "There is no one right or wrong way to come out.  It’s a lifelong process of being ever more open and true with yourself and others — done in your own way and in your own time."

 

Now that's personal.  As a writer and "student of life," one of my greatest life philosophies is something Stella Adler said.  "This is not a 'course in drama.'  It is a course in opening up the vastness in you as a human being...There is no other way to grow except through an art form today.  A few hundred years ago, maybe religion could do it.  But today, only the art form is able to stretch a human being so he can measure up to his potential to grow and grow and understand himself and his life until the end.  We are here to get that."

 

That IS my life's goal.  To "open up the vastness" in me as a human being, and to "grow and grow and understand myself and my life until the end," and not just my own, but through that growth, to understand the human experience -- to live the lives of my fellow humans. Susannah Grant said, "Writing is the way to cheat the rule that says you have only one life to live."  I completely agree.

 

But, then, how can I live those lives and understand life completely if I am holding myself back?  I don't think I can, and I don't think I want to anymore.

 

In that way, I very deeply identify with my LGBT friends who "make deeply personal decisions to be open about who we are with ourselves and others -- even when it isn't easy."  And I envy those of them who do, for their ability to walk around in life with the sun on their face, not hiding who they truly are and what they honestly feel within themselves.

 

And before you say, "That's their business!  I don't need to know!" I would strongly encourage you to have a look at the section on "Deciding to Tell Others" in the Human Rights Campaign's guide to coming out.  Perhaps then you would better understand why it is important for you to know the deeply personal truth.

 

It is about being honest and authentic.  We are taught a lot of things about what is right and wrong growing up, and for many of us, it doesn't feel good to conceal something, particularly if it is about who we are. 

 

When I was waiting tables, the thing I hated most of all was having to flash fake smiles at customers for tips.  Why couldn't it be okay to smile at them when I wanted to smile at them instead of having to smile and pretend everything was okay even when the customer really wasn't being decent to me?  It made me feel like I was selling my smiles -- like I didn't value my own integrity or myself.

 

I feel horrible for anyone who feels like they can't live a life where they are true to themselves and others, or anyone who hates what they do or is unhappy but has to keep pretending things are okay in order to survive.  It is a terrible, awful feeling and it really does cause a person to question what the point of life is if we can't be happy just being who we are.

 

But "coming out" isn't just about feeling good -- it is about sorting out the people who we can count on, who really love us no matter what.  If I love you, I want you to know the real me.  If you love the real me, then our love is real.  If you can't love the real me for who she is, then our relationship was obviously on shaky ground to start with.  I don't want that.  So I have to tell the truth.

 

Joe Solmonese, the Human Rights Campaign President, put it like this:

 

"More than anything else, I think the thing that drives each of us to come out is an intensely human desire to be known and loved authentically for who we are.  That is something everyone can relate to — and something we should celebrate and honor in one another."

 

No, I am not building up to a big reveal about my sexual orientation.  But I deeply identify with my LGBT friends who have to decide whether they will come out, how and when and where they will come out and to whom. 

 

It is an absolutely terrifying thought that people you love might not love you back anymore if they find out who you really are and what you really believe and stand for.  It leaves a sickening pit in one's stomach.

 

And that's not even worrying about everyday friends.  Friends are people you plan to be able to count on or fall back on when you can't go to your family about something, but what if you yank the rug out from under them, too? 

 

I am afraid that I have not been openly supportive enough of my own gay friends when they came out to me or dropped hints about their orientation, and I am saddened every day at the thought that my own casual attitude about it might have actually driven them further from me instead of making them feel accepted.

 

I am coming out as a straight supporter.

I am coming out as a woman who will tell you she understands how close two females can be and how much they can love each other, whether straight or gay.

Some of the greatest loves of my life have been women.

I envy drag queens.  I love them -- their hair, their clothes, and their attitudes.  I aspire to be as comfortable being who I am and doing what I love as they are.

I am coming out as a liberal.  Obviously.  No, I'm not conservative.  There was a time when I was on the fence and identified with different issues from different angles.  Lately, I am having more and more trouble agreeing and identifying with anything and everything the Conservative Party does.  That isn't to say I agree with everything the Democrats do, but taking away basic human rights and punishing people like my loved ones with suppressive laws makes my head spin.  I cannot understand it or find any decent justification for it.

I am coming out that I believe that every person is entitled to worship in his or her own way.  I am very interested in many religions and cultures and would rather learn about them than judge them.  I believe we have more in common than most people would allow themselves to see.

My family brought me up to believe in God, follow the Bible, and declare Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.  When I was a baby, I was not traditionally baptized.  I was, however, dedicated to the Lord by my parents.  I do believe that Jesus died on a cross for my sins.

However, I also believe there are many ways to fulfill a spiritual need and that need is different for everyone.

I am coming out that I would not classify myself as a traditional Christian. My spirituality is not based on only one belief system.

There is a great spiritual plan for me.

I am coming out that I am okay with people who identify themselves as Secular Humanist, Agnostic, or Atheist.

I am telling you that if Hell, as it was taught to me growing up, is real, and if sin as it was taught to me growing up is literally that, then I am going to Hell.  However, I just want to be me and to be true to what I feel inside of myself, so if that's the case, all I can do is be the best person I know how to be with integrity and honesty and face Hell willingly.

It is one thing to believe in Jesus but another to follow all the rules and let other people dictate to you who you are supposed to be and what you are supposed to believe.  That detail should be left between the individual and their god.

I am strongly coming out that I do still consider myself to be an actress.  I define that process as being a student of life and observer of people.  I analyze human behavior.  I interpret scripts, stories, and dialogue between people.  I want to share the things I learn with others.

"The word theatre comes from the Greeks. It means the seeing place. It is the place people come to see the truth about life and the social situation. The theatre is a spiritual and social X-ray of its time. The theatre was created to tell people the truth about life and the social situation."

I am emphasizing that I am a writer.  It goes along with the acting thing.  I mostly write about women and issues involving women.  My characters range from traditional white housewives to black lesbians, from little girls with irresponsible mothers to older women who discover who they really are for the first time.

I am emphasizing that I do desperately want to make a living doing what I love and what I feel I was born to do.  I feel more than anything else that I was put on this earth for that purpose.  It is my calling.  However, it is my calling whether I make money at it or not.  So no matter how unreasonable it may seem, I will continue to write and seek recognition for who I am and what I want to do.

I am coming out that I have very open-minded views about marriage.  I live with my boyfriend of 7+ years.  We would like to be married someday, but it has to be at the right time and for the right reasons for US, and if that day never comes, we will be okay.  We are only sorry that this aspect of OUR relationship causes so much concern for those we love.

I am coming out as a huge fan.  Of many things and people.  Almost everyone I know is a fan of something or someone.  I don't understand why I should feel judged for what I love when other people aren't.

I am coming out as a singer. 

I also get terrible stage fright when singing. 

I also dream of working with my favorite actresses. 

"Being brave … means that if you are scared, you do the thing you’re afraid of anyway."

I am coming out as a person who cannot tolerate injustice or abuse.  I have a really hard time watching people I love accept it.  When it is dealt to me, chances are I'm going to fight myself into a hole, tooth and nail, and once that's done I have to cut my losses and move on before things get worse. 

One of these days maybe people will stop sitting back and allowing bad things to happen to good people.

I am coming out as a potty mouth.  I control my language professionally and out of respect for other people.

I am coming out as a supporter of immigrants.  Some of the most patriotic people I have met are people who were not born in this country, but they understand the fundamental values which the United States of America were founded on when OUR ancestors came here as people who were discriminated against, fearing for their lives, servants and slaves.  They are willing to work as hard as we ask them to for the opportunity to stay here.  They know all the words of the Pledge of Allegiance, what the Statue of Liberty stands for, and the words on her plaque.  They want opportunity and liberty as much as we do.

I am most certainly coming out as a supporter of teachers and unions.  I come from the working class and I know how hard it is to be a teacher.  I know what teachers are going through right now with the recession and all that embattled public schools are demanding of them. 

As a worker, I know that companies are pushing and stretching their employees further and further to save a few dollars.  I know how exhausted, frustrated and beleaguered Americans are right now.

I am coming out as a supporter of the arts and the arts in schools.  Every person needs an outlet, a form of creativity, a way to express their individuality, or just an enhancement to the basic skills they need to know in life.  I know that debate rages, so I'll leave it at that.

And yes, I do get passionate about things that seem trivial to others.  When I do, just listen -- you might see something in a different light.

I am coming out as a person who has always been afraid to be myself, and who doesn't want to live that way anymore.  Take it or leave it.  I want to walk with my face in the sun.  I want to be honest with my family, friends, and my spiritual deity.  I want to stop being afraid to act differently, to believe differently, to disagree and voice my own opinions.

I want my soul to be comfortable in my body and my life.

So from now on, I promise to be respectful of your opinions, but to be proud of my own if they're different.  Sometimes part of respecting you will require me to step back, or keep my mouth shut, but I will no longer question my own ideals when faced with your judgments on them. 

I will no longer feel guilty when someone tries to tell me that living this way or that way is right or wrong, particularly when they have not even considered walking a mile in my shoes, and particularly when they have not paused to question me - myself - about the decisions I make. 

Your understanding of me is limited to your level of open-mindedness.  I do promise to always try to understand you and where you are coming from, and to listen, and I expect that same consideration.  We will not always agree, and I will not expect us to.  You shouldn't either.  Agreeing to disagree is more important than losing a person you love because of stubborn ways.

And yes, I am stubborn, so I may need a gentle reminder now and then of the promises I have made to you and to myself. 

Fights will happen.  But so will apologies and forgiveness, if you let them.

I have opened my heart and let you look inside.  I will always try to authentically do so, but you must understand that hearts are vulnerable and I will sometimes need to protect myself.

Most importantly, I hope that my being more open and honest will allow others that I love to live more authentically -- despite what the society they live in tells them about how to live, or believe or survive.

I am so full of love and passion and curiosity about life and the world and others.  Life is so short, but it can be a great journey, and I am so grateful to those who have allowed me into their hearts; and the best I can do is to honor them for that by aspiring to their level of unwavering love and openness.

Lazy Cat Series

I noticed that cute pictures with quotes are kind-of the "in" thing on Tumblr ... so I decided to try it by exploiting my cat, Ozzi, who is actually not very lazy.  I often call her my "familiar" as our personalities seem to be similar.  She just happened to be unusually cooperative on the day I took these pictures!

Strangely enough, the quote by itself is gaining popularity.  Do people really like my scribbled so-called "calligraphy" better than my gorgeous diva kitty cat?  What is the world coming to?

You can see more of my photos and some of my art attempts in my deviantART Gallery.

Lost Angeles

I knew I was going to move to Los Angeles for years before I actually did it.  People thought I was obsessed and my high school teachers rolled their eyes every time I mentioned Hollywood, L.A., or the things that were going to happen in my life after I graduated and flew the coop.  If I had to do a geography report, career report, Spanish project, sociology report -- you name it -- my subject matter was predictable.  I knew that Los Angeles was short for El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula (The Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels on the Porciúncula River) even before I had access to the Internet -- thanks to a book we had to use back then called an encyclopedia!

When the summer after my senior year finally rolled around I had three choices -- three roads to choose from.  The first and most obvious choice was Ball State -- a school far enough away from home that people probably wouldn't drop by unexpectedly but close enough that someone could get to me in an emergency.  A teacher I respected a lot told me that she thought I would be very comfortable there because it had a small town feel (as opposed to an overwhelming large university campus).  My second choice was Marymount Manhattan College in New York City.  I had interviewed over the phone and had not qualified for many scholarships.  The amount that I was expected to pay for tuition (also known as "family contribution") was pretty much the same amount that it would cost for tuition at choice number three -- acting school in L.A.  Neither Marymount Manhattan or Stella Adler Academy offered student housing, and I actually wasn't even considering acting school seriously because going to college was the right thing to do.  I was told by my guidance counselor that if I moved to New York I would end up in a gutter.  She literally told me that.

My dad was arranging our trip to New York with the travel agent but I had an icky feeling about something -- something just didn't feel right.  We discussed it.  The only thing I could put my finger on was that I was not looking forward to New York weather.  I really wanted to go to Hollywood.  He called the travel agent.  My grandmother bought me a new, sleek, feminine, sleeveless pinstripe suit to wear to my interview with the stipulation that I had to fit in it by the time I left.  I did.

L.A. felt good the minute I stepped out of LAX.  I can't really explain it except that the climate was perfect, the city felt energetic, and I felt connected to something inexplicable -- like for the first time I was part of something historic that my heroes were part of, too.

I could tell a thousand different stories about the places I lived, the places I visited, the people I met and spoke to, the pieces of the city that became familiar to me and that I started to claim as my own, the descriptions of the city that were proven wrong, and the ironies of my experiences versus what people back home assumed about them.  I lived in L.A. on and off for only about two years, and it has been almost 10 years since I left.

Still, even looking at pictures makes me feel like I am looking at a place I can call one of my homes -- a place where even when I tried to grow up too fast and lost track of my true self, I still feel like was the only place in the world where I was allowed to really be myself.

I made a point to take a lot of pictures when I lived in L.A. and I took some really-really good ones, but back then we used something called film ... so they are mostly in boxes, scrapbooks and in black plastic canisters, undeveloped.

My first stop in L.A. was the Hyatt on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood.  The balcony faced the entire city.  I had no idea how much time I would spend in West Hollywood during the next couple of years.

The Highland Gardens Hotel on Franklin became my "most often" home.  I'm not telling you which room but since it faced the street and not the pool, I got to watch the limos drive by and the searchlights dance in the sky on premiere nights.  The hotel has been refurbished and re-glamorized since then.  The Hollywood I lived in was a little more gritty and ... realistic?

When I lived in Hollywood, I had to walk through the madness in front of the Chinese Theatre every day on the way to school.  Braving the tourists, sweet Mexican guy in the tourist shop that always wanted to talk, and the French guys in front of the Roosevelt Hotel was the obvious choice in comparison to the creepy, off-the-beaten-path streets before the Hollywood & Highland Center/Kodak Theatre was built.  I was there when they gave Kevin Spacey his star next to the big black plywood wall that hid the construction.

I spent hours and hours here at Stella Adler Academy, which shared the building with a little ice cream shop (that also sold cigarettes, I think?) the Snow White Cafe, and the Wax Museum.  They liked to sneak celebrities in through the service elevator in back that students were not supposed to use.

This is an authentic speakeasy from the old days that they keep hidden in the walls of the school/theaters.  They pretty much only open it for special events and/or cast parties when people have paid the right price to use it.  That bookcase on the right opens to a hidden staircase leading to the roof so people could hide if the police came.  The greats of Hollywood used to party here.  During the L.A. bus strike when I was stuck in Hollywood for hours on end, I volunteered and was honored to clean this place after a party, but was appalled that anyone could make a mess in there because I felt it was a place to be honored.  I couldn't get the mirrors to quit streaking and was told later that there was hairspray on them because they'd been filming in there and it reduced the glare.  Some guys that were going back and forth in the hallway working on a set were going nuts because James Coburn was in the building.  It turned out he was filming his part in a fundraising video that I cannot for the life of me find online anywhere!

Toward the end of my stay in L.A., I used to hike up Runyon Canyon a lot.  From this popular vantage point you could see my hotel at the bottom, my school on the far left, and downtown in the far distance.  It usually looked less hazy and more smoggy than this, but the sky as I remember it was blue.

None of this was here!  I do remember peeking in as I walked by from time to time and seeing that white elephant and some of the Egyptian architecture, but for the most part the Renaissance Hotel in the background was a construction site and Hollywood and Highland was a stop on the new red line metro rail that I rode in from the valley -- Van Nuys to Sherman Oaks via Sepulveda, Sherman Oaks to Universal City via the Rapid Bus on Ventura, and then down the rail to Hollywood.  (By the way, the Sherman Oaks Galleria was a construction site then, too.  I worked across the street at Sisley.)

I love these "Photographs of Hollywood by Scott Supak" because they show the grittier vantage of the streets that are familiar.

I also very much enjoyed reading this article that really captured the essence of L.A. -- "On (Not) Leaving Los Angeles" by Sarah LaBrie at This Recording.

If any of the images above belong to you and you would rather I didn't use them, I apologize and will happily remove them.  You can tell me here.

Where have I been?

Since last spring, I've been here:

And to be honest, I really miss the place.  I especially miss most of the very kind, sweet, honest, people of integrity that I worked with.

I do not, however, miss the situation I was in.  And I especially do not miss the people I worked with who had no integrity.

And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Why Robin Strasser Has to Write Her Autobiography

I am sorry to say that I am not good at writing letters of support (also known as "fan letters") because I feel like I've had a very bad experience in the past due to this great practice.  It isn't that I don't support the Arts, my favorite actors, or what I consider to be the best shows.  What it is ... is that I do not want to alter anyone's perception of me -- particularly that of people I want to consider to be colleagues that I greatly respect or admire ... rather than people I "look up to" or "idolize."  For the same reason, I am very leery of pursuing my current in-road into becoming a soap blogger or soap media.  It is all about perception, and how I want to be perceived.  If I do actually pen and mail a letter, I often forget to include the ever-important SASE.  I'm just not in the habit, because 8 out of 10 times (and that may be a literal count), I don't require or want a response.

I suppose, by definition, I am a fanatic.  I am a passionate and enthusiastic student of life, myself, behavior, art, varying perspectives, and how to deal with all of that.  Robin Strasser once pointed out that the Latin root of the word "diva" refers to the "divine."  Well, the Latin root of the word "fan" just refers to someone who is "inspired" by the divine.

Still, I abhor the idea of being referred to as a "fan."  Call me inspired, yes.  Call me passionate, yes.  Call me enthusiastic, yes.  Call me a student, yes!

...But do not write me off.  Do not wander away down a hall making a comment that lumps me into a category with thousands of starry-eyed young girls trying to find their way in the world.  Do not call me into a dressing room to say hello and never expect to see me again, let alone work with me.  Do not look at me wistfully, as if glancing into the past, and tell me that I'll understand "someday."

Consider me now.

I am here to learn.

That being said, I can now explain why it is so extremely important to me that this particular actress writes her autobiography, and includes as much brutal honesty about her life in it as possible.

Books written by actors first became very crucial to me when I was studying at Stella Adler Academy and realized there was a huge "generational gap" between Stella Adler and myself.  I was being taught by her students, so in a way she became like my "acting grandmother."  I felt a real sense of detachment from her direct wisdom, but thanks to the insight of Kate Mulgrew, who spoke at the Adler, and reading some notes that were written in Stella's own words, or came directly from her mouth, I was able to begin growing in my understanding of what, exactly, she was trying to teach the acting world.

The next influential book I (tried) to read was Colleen Dewhurst's autobiography.  She spoke a lot about the intricacies of the acting world at large, including summer stock, unions, her journey as an actress, plays and parts, and wisdoms about life she picked up along the way.  I found myself so intrigued that I had to take notes.  After I realized I had checked the book out of the library for several months in a row without completing it (mostly because I wanted to keep it), I was embarrassed and returned the book, promising myself that I'd check it out again later or buy it.

I also read Katharine Hepburn's autobiography, which holds a special place in my heart since I bought it in the gift shop at the theatre where I saw "Tea at Five" in Hartford.  It also shared a lot, in her own words, about the business, how to survive it, and what her own teachers taught her.  Of course, her stories offered some alternate perspectives and techniques to what I had already learned, which taught me in return, and which I'm grateful for.

Currently, I'm attempting to read Ellen Burstyn's autobiography -- another one that I'm struggling through because so much of it seems so profound to me.  In particular, she learned slightly different acting techniques than I did, and much of her struggle in the beginning dealt with learning that it is okay to be imperfect.  That is something I have struggled to teach myself, as well, thanks to her revelation.  I am also enjoying reading about her spiritual journey very much.

I have a list of more autobiographies by actresses (colleagues) I admire that I want to read and learn from in the future.  When Robin Strasser's book is released, it will jump to the top of that list.

Why?  Because I know that she has dealt with a problem that we share and a struggle that few people in our position comprehend.  It has crippled me and my career time and again, but she has dealt with it successfully.  It is an issue that never really seems to go away -- a hindering one -- but a difficulty that one can function with and have a beautiful career and life despite of.  I have not figured it out.  She has, by her own admission, smiled through it at times.  I am grasping and desperate for her understanding -- for her unsolicited or perhaps unintentional encouragement -- on how to keep functioning and moving forward when it feels like the world is trying to swallow you.

In the meantime, to quote Dory from Finding Nemo, I "just keep swimming," and keep learning, and keep trying to figure it out.  I'm having a blast, and I'm excited about the future.  Still, my desire to be more, to do more, and to learn more is never quenched, and I'm very impatient about it all!  Those who know me very well are aware of the underlying reasons for my impatience -- which, simply put, involve a lot of time running out and a lot of missed opportunities that are or were beyond my control.  ...Time running out and missed opportunities with loved ones, teachers, and those I, myself, have influenced.

I just want to learn so much.  I want to understand.  I want to continue to grow, every day.  I want varying perspectives.  I want insight.  I want to, at the end of my life, say that I was the best person I could have possibly been -- no regrets, no missed opportunities, no pauses in the growth process -- despite fears, hinderances, or unavoidable conflicts.

I use a cheat sheet -- I look at the lives of others, see through their eyes, and learn from their lessons.  I have peeked at Robin Strasser's notes, and I want to see more!

My Avalon

I have to admit I have a pretty negative outlook when it comes to industry and development.  I hate seeing beautiful fields being plowed under or forests being logged so that businesses or subdivisions can replace them.  In fact, the way I feel about it ends up being a theme in the life of one of my characters -- Alice -- who grows up wading in creeks and climbing trees only to return home later in life and find strip malls and subdivisions in her neighborhood.  To me, and many people I know, that's just tragic.

I was recently telling a dear friend of mine about Melanie Griffith's Avalon.  Basically, it is a tranquil place you create in your mind and go to in your imagination when you need it.

My Avalon tends to change, but there is one place in the world that, in my memory, is still perfect.  It is down a gravel road that you only know about if you live there, with rolling fields that dip down to creeks and fresh springs, piney woods that have a blanket of soft needles on the ground instead of underbrush, where animals aren't sure whether to be afraid or curious -- the place where both sides of my family lived, where my great-grandmothers were young wives and my grandparents were children.  That's where I come from and where I grew up, and my heart breaks at the thought of never being able to go there again -- the thought of returning to find everything changed.  I drove through there a couple of weeks ago and I cried.

Avalon ended up being a recurring theme, though I didn't realize it until today.

My computer crashed big time this week, and in the process of rescuing my files I ran across several of my iTunes songs with Avalon themes.

Then, today we drove north for a weekend wedding.  On our way, we passed through Indianapolis.  In general, Indianapolis is a wonderful city and most people who visit really like it.  You don't really get a very good idea of how nice Indianapolis can be when you just pass through on the interstate.  Today, I mostly saw rush-hour traffic, quick glimpses of various neighborhoods (including subdivisions with expensive homes surrounded by corn fields), and lots of industry.

As we passed by one business, the name on the side of the building flashed by.

Avalon.

Outside this building, next to the highway, there was a small man-made pond with a fountain in the middle.  As we zoomed by in the car, the afternoon sun shined through the spraying water in just such a way that for a brief instant I saw a rainbow in it.

For one brief instant, as development and industrial parks flashed passed me, I saw a piece of my own Avalon.

It occurred to me as we continued that even though I sometimes feel like the world is going to end up being, as my mother says, "parking lots and cemeteries," there is still so much beauty in it.  Sometimes it is man-made and sometimes it is natural, but my perspective on it is what makes it beautiful or unattractive.  I just have to watch for the beauty instead of expecting the ugly.

I took the pictures in this post at the wedding site.  It was lovely.  The world keeps turning and people keep loving and living and finding or creating beauty -- their own Avalon.

"Flighty"

In the search to figure out what to name my new blog, I asked my dear darling boyfriend what one word best describes me.

Guess what he said?

flighty |ˈflītē|
adjective
fickle and irresponsible
SYNONYMS fickle, inconstant, mercurial, whimsical, capricious, skittish, volatile, impulsive; irresponsible, giddy, reckless, wild, careless, thoughtless. ANTONYMS steady, responsible.

It really sort-of bothered me and made me want to defend myself when he said that the one word that best described me was "flighty." Naturally, I had to completely disagree with him. I mean, not only is it slightly insulting that someone I am so close to would describe me as ... oh ... fickle, reckless, careless, thoughtless and irresponsible, but he has also told me many many times that I am one of the most thoughtful people he knows. The real kicker, though, was that this wasn't the first time I'd been called "flighty." Actually, I had a teacher in junior high and high school -- the one teacher that I never really saw eye-to-eye with -- that described me as "flighty."

Of course, when you hear something more than once you have to stop and consider its accuracy, so I asked my boyfriend why he picked that one word to describe me.

He answered that it is because I tend to focus all my attention and energy on something like an obsession for a time, and then I'll suddenly switch gears and completely devote myself to something else.

I thought about that for a while, and I came to a very direct and unquestionable conclusion:

I am a very passionate person.

It isn't that I lose interest in the subject of my affection -- quite the contrary. It is just that there comes a point when I must move on -- like Mary Poppins moving to the next family that needs her when the wind finally changes.

Soon, I was observing the butterflies outside on the flowers. They land on a bloom and drink from it for a while; and then suddenly fly up into the air and flutter around like crazy in a completely unpredictable path, before they settle again on ... sometimes the same flower, sometimes a new one. The hummingbirds are similar. They fly from the tree to the feeder or flower. Sometimes they land, and sometimes they hover. Sometimes they fly back and forth. Often, they'll even "fight" each other for their claim. Are the butterflies and the hummingbirds flighty ... or are they just very focused and even passionate about what they want or need?

I certainly wouldn't call them "irresponsible" or "reckless" or "careless." Would you?

If you read the "About" page of this blog, I have to admit I certainly do seem sort-of "inconstant" or "fickle" or "wayward." I think this is because I just love too many things way too much. It isn't that I'm necessarily changing my mind about what I want to do or write about. It's just that I have so many ideas that I have trouble figuring out where to focus my energy. Until now, I've been trying to keep everything in its place and spreading myself out.

When I was a kid and my mother would tell me to clean my room, she would come to check on my progress and be angry because in the process of cleaning I would inevitably make my room look worse. My cleaning method is to make piles, and most of the time I would just make one big pile of the entire mess (usually on my bed) and then sort things out one at a time into the places where they were supposed to be. I guess, in a way, that's what I'm doing with this blog. Rather than having several blogs about specific subjects, I'll have one blog -- like a big pile -- where I keep all my thoughts and sort them into smaller, more organized categories.

So ... no. I would not say I'm "flighty." I'm just very passionate about many many things!

I need a cookie!

So I'm trying to follow this writing schedule I made and started on my birthday.  I'm not doing bad so far, except that I am completely uninspired to write the inspirational articles that pay the most.  And there is one blog I'm not even working on until the beginning of March.

Working this hard just makes me want more credit though.  And when I don't get it, I'm really frustrated.  And then I have to go read some Rilke -- Letters to a Young Poet -- to make myself feel better.

What am I doing wrong?  Really?  Am I going to end up being one of those poor artists that can never figure out how to succeed and is never recognized?

If that's it....  Great.  Seriously.  If I can't spill my thoughts and emotions in an art form as a life project, then I can't bear the thought of floating through life just trying to get through the day-to-day.

Okay, on a happy note!  The boyfriend and I made delicious snicker-doodles today.  We both worked in the kitchen together and it turned out okay!  And I didn't burn myself or cause any major messes or accidents!  However, since I was involved in the cookie making process, I didn't get any wonderful pictures to post.

And here are some quotes for you:

"This is not a 'course in drama.'  It is a course in opening up the vastness in you as a human being...There is no other way to grow except through an art form today.  A few hundred years ago, maybe religion could do it.  But today, only the art form is able to stretch a human being so he can measure up to his potential to grow and grow and understand himself and his life until the end.  We are here to get that."  Stella Adler

"If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you.  If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth, will destroy you."  The Gnostic Gospels

"Ever since there have been men, man has given himself over to too little joy. That alone, my brothers, is our original sin. I should believe only in a God who understood how to dance." Henri Matisse

Winter, Writer

There is so much snow!  This is crazy!  It is beautiful, but I feel like I can't fully appreciate it.

Also, I can't find my nail polish.  It is odd.

I am going to try to give up soda/pop/coke/carbonated beverages until Easter.  Maybe it will help with this little weight issue.  Baby steps.  I really want to learn some yoga, but I guess for now I'll stick with my dance DVDs ... that I rarely actually use....

My birthday was wonderful, even though we are snowbound.  I felt special.  Valentine's Day was pretty great, too, by the way, except for the momentary incident of getting the car stuck....

And I'm not keeping this blog like I should.  I made myself a little writing itinerary that I started using yesterday and it has worked out really well!  Except for one thing.  The slow internet makes researching and posting a pain the butt, and it all takes a long long time!  If this keeps up, I will have to post less frequently and change my writing schedule all around.

I feel I have done nothing but write constantly for the last couple of days, though I know I've poked my head out into real life regularly.

That's why these blog posts are so brief.

Plus, one of the true curses of a writer is the lack of movement involved in the activity.  I was told today that I needed to "do something."  It ticked me off a bit.  I mean, I understand that holing myself up writing for days on end (as it feels like I've done for the last couple of days) is not good in the grand scheme of things (though it gives me another reason to be very thankful for the snow!) but writing is far from doing nothing!  It actually takes a great deal of effort if you're trying to do the best job you can.

To the observer, you're just sitting there like a lump lost in some distant train of thought, with only your hands moving.

I'm really not as lazy as I seem.  Throw me back in acting, dance, or movement classes, in rehearsals or on a stage and you'll find out.  *wink*

Moving?

I think I'm about to move this whole blog over to WordPress.  I read about the benefits of Blogspot/Blogger vs. WordPress before I decided to try this, and ultimately decided to put this blog here.

However, in my experiences with each, I have found WordPress to be more useful for what I want -- because at WordPress I can click a button and see how many people visited my blog each day, what my top posts were, etc.

I like the ease of posting on Blogger, and how incredibly customizable the sidebar and other features are without having to know CSS or HTML.  I think I can -- with some work -- keep the pieces I want if I move.

Also, I'm not getting any benefits of this "monetize" option.  I don't even know if anyone reads this blog or not.  I'm not sure why they would, really, but it would be nice to know.  And if these Google AdSense ads are supposed to be doing something, I think they're broken.

It's kinda silly, I know.  But I'm just seeing more pros to using WordPress right now.  If I need to change my mind, let me know!

In the meantime, I'm going to stay here.  I'll let you know if/when I get my switch completed.

Fair-weather

I don't want to quote this wrong and get myself in trouble, but someone told me yesterday, essentially, that I'm way too depressed lately and they can't handle it.

Which I found odd, because not only had I spent a couple of happy days with them prior to this revelation, but also because I've been through some pretty testing, depressing times with this person over the last several years.  And when someone I know isn't doing very well -- yeah, it is frustrating, but -- I do what I can to help them or make them feel better.  I am there for them, I try to help them work their way through it, I make small gestures to let them know I'm thinking of them (like giving them a gift or writing them a note), or I at least pray for them.

I suddenly felt like a little girl standing in front of my mother.  I love my mother but that woman can walk into a room that's just been swept and mopped twice over and see the one spot under the dog bowl where there are a few spilt pieces of dog food in a tuft of dust -- where the dog was just eating!

Yeah, I was acting a little depressing -- because I found out that I missed an opportunity for a job I kinda wanted ... and needed.  Who wouldn't get a little depressed about that?  Give me a break.

So now I'm just mad.  I feel terrible because -- since I'm angry about it -- I'm not even upset that this person doesn't even want to be around me anymore.  I mean, that is just so childish and selfish.

And to be honest, what I'm really looking for is a best friend -- someone who can love me despite my faults and who is there for the long haul.  Not someone who "shuts down" when things get slightly annoying.  I just don't think that's what love is about.

Leave me a comment.  Tell me I'm wrong.  Am I expecting too much?  Am I being selfish?  Do I put too much faith in humanity?  

Is it hilarious that I'm even asking these questions?

In other news, I've been getting some good comments on my writing!  Yay!  Loooooove.

Loving and Leaving Comments

I am working on a new website to corral all my projects, blogs, websites, etc. in one place.  More on that later.

Tonight I want to mention a text response to one of my YouTube videos:

"How amazing it is that people who have probably NEVER made a serious effort to read and understand the Bible feel so free and easy in making retarded statements like the one she makes..."the Bible has been interpreted and re-interpreted by people with hidden agendas...it's TRUE". 

Just goes to show you that people who are completely clueless think nothing of spouting nonsense of this type without even a hint of EVIDENCE to back it up! There's a reason for this...there ISN'T ANY !"

What?  Is this person saying that the Bible was written in English and that no one ever translated it or wrote it in other languages?  Is this person saying that there is no such thing as false prophets?  Um, give me a break.

I posted a lengthy text response of my own.  My favorite part:

"I have a personal relationship with MY God and a Jesus who taught people to love one another. I just chose to be honest with you about my feelings and questions instead of pretending to be something I'm not. (Good job making it seem like Christians think honest statements are retarded.) At any rate, thanks for the comment and the attention to my video. 

Maybe I'll post a video response soon. I never denied I had a lot to learn, did I?"

I also loved how they said that I had probably never made a serious effort to read and understand the Bible.  They obviously didn't watch my video all the way through.  If they had, they would have heard me say that I've gone to church my whole life.  Not only that, but I have made a very serious effort to understand the Bible.  I actually think I've made a more serious effort than most Christians in that I read the Bible with an open mind and try to figure truths out for myself instead of blindly following what other Christians tell me to believe.

Some advice I got early on when I first posted a religious video was that you should not get confrontational with commenters.  I'm sorry, but I have to defend myself here.  This person is another example of the kind of Christian I talked about in my video.  I do not know where they are coming from.  Like I said, I was just being honest.  I don't think that calls for an attack on my character.  Particularly from a person who is supposed to set an example for all humanity.  *cough cough*

I would like to have an open, honest, understanding discussion with whoever feels like they want to take part in a theoretical or philosophical debate with me on this subject on YouTube.  I do appreciate comments and attention.  Still, my Christian friends might actually be shocked to learn that I've received very nice, good, positive comments from Athiests; and my one negative comment (so far) came from a Christian.  Uuuhhhmmmm?

Well, let's change the subject!

Check out this review I got to the latest chapter of a fanfic I've been writing:

"I have been keeping up steadily at the Diva board...I have read every chapter when it came out. This is BY FAR and away the best chapter of this beautifully crafted story. It was very intricate and masterfully intertwined and woven together in a way that would not be feasible on the show. The possibilities were endless for them to explore, and they didn't. I am so glad you chose to. My heart literally sped up at certain points, which is the best compliment I can offer, because I was drawn in enough by the pictures you created that I had an emotional and physical reaction to your work. Very, very well done. I hope it doesn't end too soon, because this so involved and full of potential."

Of all the chapter and story reviews I've ever received, this one might just be my favorite.  I am amazed that something I wrote -- I wrote -- made someone feel something that deeply!  I have read things that had that effect on me, and they are few and far between, usually written by someone very talented or renowned.  I might be a little proud of myself, but I am actually mostly just amazed and humbled that someone would describe my work that way.

It also renews my faith in my ability when I really throw myself into something I'm doing.  No pressure for the next chapter....

Snowy Day

Today was an "avoid the world" day.  This type of day is contradictory to my "attack everything" philosophy.  I'm even having  a hard time writing, which is unusual for me --  not unheard of, but not normal.  I by no means had a bad day, and I did try to dig in to and make sure I was doing what I could.  I even posted on two blogs besides this one -- nothing elaborate but I rarely post on more than one blog a day.

I'm working on it, okay?

I went outside to take pictures of the snow but I really wanted to get out on this unused gravel road that has trees and hills on both sides -- and once I got outside and looked across the field to where this gravel road is, I just didn't want to walk that far, especially by myself.  Plus, footprints ruin snow.

I took two pictures.

Personality quizzes are fun!

I just took a couple of quizzes on Facebook, and while I find them just fun and entertaining, I thought I'd go ahead and post the results here because they match what I've been saying about myself lately.

Dr. Phil's Personality Test

"Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It would really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment, expecting you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then, usually decide against it. They think this reaction is caused partly by your careful nature."

Mm-hmm. What did I just say last night?

What Decade Fits Your Personality Best?

1940's. "You are the ultimate romantic at heart. You put a high priority on true love, patriotism, and dedication to honor and duty. Whether it be serving your country or serving your family, you have a very hard work-ethic balanced out by your whimsical, dreamy heart. You are willing to take risks, go where no one has gone before, and you have a sense of pride in everything you do. Just as you are in touch with your inner beauty, you also give just the right amount of focus on your outer beauty-- standing out with the latest fashions and getting in touch with your sensual side. Your sexiness is not scandalous but rather classy and poised. You are the envy of those around you because no matter how much tough work you have to do, you keep a smile and look good while doing it."

Well, that's encouraging. What it should say is that I keep a smile on my face while working when the people around me are pleasant. I'm not going to smile at you if you gripe at me. Just a little disclaimer there! Oh, and here's another one -- I think that result is my ideal description, not the one I always live up to. For example, the latest fashions would be a lot easier to keep up with if I could afford to go shopping every season!

Work Ethic

My (for all intents and purposes) "mother-in-law" walked up the stairs today with clean sheets and told me she was about to make her bed if I had any issues with fitted sheets.  I asked how she folded them and she said she just puts them back on the bed!  (See previous post if you have no idea why I just said that.)

I really don't have any big fancy stories today, except that a chapter of a fanfic that I wrote and a fan mvid I made to go with it got a little bit of attention.  That's always nice.  It especially appealed to the actress in me that they said I understood the character I was writing.  Well, I do try!

It also made me realize something about my own characters and my life.  I need to ... how was it A Martinez said it about Robin Strasser?  "...the work ethic of a warrior."  I have always believed in that, but I haven't been living it.  I need to attack every project I undertake -- 100 percent and with my full attention.

I tend to stew and worry and question everything.  I need to just stick to my convictions and throw out the best work I possibly can, all the time.

I understand this whole concept, and have for years, but for some reason I feel like I am just now "getting it."

Fitted Sheets and the Soapbox I Can't Seem to Avoid

I honestly thought I was going to be dishing and gushing about Stardish Radio's live interview with Robin Strasser tonight but guess what?  I have a whole lot of stuff to talk about and, unexpectedly, fitted sheets factor into it all.  Insane, I know.

I've gotten into the habit of taking notes at church, because I want to remember the things I want to repeat or talk about, but today I should have taken notes all day.  I know I'm going to leave something out.

Fitted sheets.  My sister and I were at my grandmother's house cleaning yesterday and she said she couldn't fold a fitted sheet.  We were laughing about it and I showed her how to fold a fitted sheet -- which is when I just ignore the fact that there are no real corners and keep folding it until it is a funny looking, oddly shaped, folded up sheet.  It won't really wrinkle like it would if it were just wadded into a drawer but it is really silly.

Bear with me.  This is an odd story but it will come full circle.

On the way to church this morning, as I always do in the car, I had an urge to sing.  My voice, for some reason, was very clear and not its usual raspy morning state.  My dear friend/mentor Elizabeth had me sing "There's Something About That Name" at church - and she really wanted me to sing it very very much.  She worked with me on it before I sang it, going over the lyrics line by line and talking about the feelings and dynamics of the song.  One line that really struck me as she talked about it was "...like the fragrance after the rain...."  So this morning, I got the urge to sing that song.

I told Elizabeth I was singing it to her, and I heard her in my mind telling me that I should not sing it for her, but for the Lord.  So, of course, I had to agree to that, but it was really for her.  So I sang the song in the car on the way to church.

I wrote down what our Sunday School lesson was about, but it slipped down on the priority list of things to talk about here.

I was very turned off by the beginning of the sermon, but it turned out to be a great lesson, as usual.  I didn't agree with all of it, but all people aren't always going to agree.

Notably, I just don't know what to think when people start talking about "the mark of the beast" as it pertains to technology, social security numbers, bar codes, etc.

And I know how very controversial it is for me to say this to Christians, but I really disagree extremely strongly that getting involved with Buddhism, Muslim, etc. is inviting in demons.  I find that highly offensive.  The Christian perspective on that is that because people have to be "politically correct" all the time, they are not free to practice their religion in the United States without it being taboo these days.  They can't pray in school, they are afraid to mention Jesus in public, and they feel they have to fight for "Christmas."  I, personally, do not feel that way at all.  Because I know that if I respect the way other people believe, they will respect me.  Unfortunately, people from all religions are taught to believe that their god is the only god -- and it has led to many wars and will continue to for many more years because people cannot just love other people no matter what.  So, my Christian friends, if I am inviting in demons, you might want to avoid me.  I'm sorry.  

I love people, and I have a desire to learn and to grow, and that involves other religions.

Shall I put my soapbox away now?  Well, I'll keep it handy.

A really great thing that was brought up was the question, "Who are we identified with?"

So I was sitting there asking myself about my identity and what I am identified with.  Of course, the point was that you should be identified with Jesus, but I was sitting there thinking, I am identified with a TV show?  That's bad.  That's just very bad.

I can easily justify it and talk about the uniqueness and greatness of soaps, acting, making a difference in the world, and many other things that make it not just about a TV show.  But I'd have to climb back on my soapbox.  Maybe I'll talk about that some other time if you are truly interested, but something tells me you aren't.  Sadly!

I liked that the point was made that in the Bible, more often than not, the poor people who are searching for God or are close to God are identified -- with a story or name -- and the rich people who are aligned with worldly possessions are used as examples and not identified.  Don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against "rich" people and would love to have more money than I have.  The point is that people's value is not measured by their money, but by what is in their heart.  I flipped through the Bible during the sermon and found the verses in Matthew 19 in which a rich young man told Jesus that he had followed all the laws and commandments and didn't know what else he could do, and Jesus told him that he needed to sell all his possessions and give to the poor.  I'm not rooting for people to have to lose everything in the world, but that was definitely a test of what that man considered to be more important -- his money or other people?  See that?

Still, I heard the name George W. Bush come up, and to me, mixing politics in with my worship is a total turn-off.  I understand why Christians do that -- I get it -- I know it is important to them; but it just isn't me.  It doesn't speak to me.  I was also sitting there staring at the alter after collection was taken up, with the opened Bible in the middle and a plate full of money on each side.  Again, don't get me wrong.  I fully support my church and the good things they do!  I want to give them money!  But as with politics, I do not want the financial end of it to be part of my worship.  I also think it makes poor people who are in the congregation feel very bad.  Yucky yuck yuck.  

Oops!  Soapbox!  Behind me!

Well, guess what song we stood up and sang at the end of the service?  Actually, we sang it two times.  Just guess!  Of all the millions of songs I could have sang on the way to church ... I just happened to sing "There's Something About That Name," and that just happened to be the close of the service.

Hello, Elizabeth!  Did you catch that!?  Wow, God.

I met up with my darling boyfriend after church and sat in the car listening to Robin Strasser's newly recorded hotline while he bought some cough drops.  She was really moving and then got out her soapbox and talked a lot about the state of our economy and helping people and I don't ever say, "Amen!" in church but I would've said it to her if I'd been in the room when she recorded her message.  She has a huge heart and she is definitely about helping other people - particularly her neighbors.  She's very open and forthcoming about her personal issues, too, and I sort-of wish I could share my own story with her without sounding pathetic.  I respect her immensely and would love to work with her someday in some capacity, so ...  I'd rather hide from her than have her think less of me.

I tuned in to the live broadcast of her interview tonight and JoAnn -- wonderful JoAnn -- at Stardish asked her for me if she had started her autobiography yet.  She insisted that she would, not only because she has to share her stories from her perspective, first hand, but also because she needs the money!  Oh, my goodness!  Really, that's sad!  

Money is just so stupid.  I'm sorry, but it is.  And we are brought up in an environment where we are essentially forced to make it our first priority.  Pathetic and sickening.  Forced.  Our heart can be in the right place, but that doesn't get us anywhere, does it?

Oh, hello again, soapbox....

So guess what became a big topic of the night?  Of all things?  Fitted sheets.  No one can fold the stupid things!  Apparently, Hillary B. Smith can, so fans agree that we need some household tips videos on YouTube from our favorite actresses.  Hillary B. Smith can teach the world to fold fitted sheets, and Robin Strasser can teach us her excellent ironing techniques.  She said one of her first theatre jobs was ironing in a bathroom for Shakespeare in the Park.

I'm pretty much anti-domestic.  I was in 4-H for years and had to learn how to sew, iron, make candles, take care of children, etc.  It was all very useful, educational, and dare I say fun?  But being forced to do all those things and later realizing I don't really have to do them, combined with having a boyfriend of six years who is a Certified Culinarian ... I'm sort-of anti-domestic, I'm afraid.  I find sewing frustrating, I hate ironing (though it is incredibly easy), and cooking?  Forget it!  Washing dishes by hand?  I'd rather eat the food I try to cook!

Give me a pen, a pad of paper, a computer, a car, a holy place, whatever, and something I care about and I'll work my you-know-what off for it.  I'll even work for free if I love it enough.  Heck, I write for pennies - literally - as it is.  Give me a break!

In conclusion, I again ask, "Is there such a thing as coincidence?"  Do I read into things too much?  You have to admit one or two coincidences a day or a week would be one thing, but several?  I don't kno-ow!

Coincidences or signs?

I had a really great idea for this blog entry earlier tonight but I have forgotten what it was.  I think I was probably going to rant about what triggers my anxieties.  It could also have been about how beautifully foggy it was today -- mystical -- but because of circumstances beyond my control, I didn't get any pictures.

And I change the subject.

When I was younger, I got in the habit of making wishes.  I think it works, really.  I mean, is making a wish really any different than saying a prayer or visualizing?  Not really, I don't think.  When I say it became a habit, I mean it literally.  Making wishes just came naturally, without any thought, when blowing out birthday candles, moving the clasp of my necklace back to the back of my neck, seeing the first star appear at night, or when all the numbers on the clock matched.  Who came up with "wish hour" anyway?  I might have to research this someday.

Well, as everyone knows, 11:11 is the most powerful wish hour.  I don't know how, but I just happened to catch both 11:11s yesterday and the one this morning.  Wow!  Someone/thing out there wants me to make wishes!

Another couple of strange things, which may or may not be just big coincidences:

I heard "I Gotta Feeling" (Black Eyed Peas) twice in a row tonight.  That really isn't that big because there are two similar radio stations in Louisville and I switch from one to the other when I'm not a big fan of the song on one station.  But it is just really encouraging to hear, "I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night," repeatedly.  I don't know why.  I think maybe when that song first came out I must have had a "good good night" after hearing that song and I've liked it ever since.

Next.  Ray LaMontagne sings "Be Here Now," which I have been blogging about because I just discovered it and love it.  Wednesday night I was listening to Ray LaMontagne's song, "Trouble," and I swear it was about a half hour later, while my boyfriend's family was watching American Idol, this guy came on and sang that song.  (Yes, he was a good singer!)

Do you believe in signs?  You know I do, but I really don't get what they mean most of the time!  Now I'm going to have to listen to that song again.

And now I've managed to distract myself again.  Off to the next project before I pass out from exhaustion!

Generations, Discouragement, and Dreams

What have I done?  Ugh!

Something happened tonight that made me just get into a dark mood.  I'm not in a "bad" mood but in a very emotionally-charged mood.  I'm not "unhappy," but I'm feeling things very deeply.

This is excellent for writing, but it can also be very depressing.

I have had this story in my head since high school that continuously writes itself.  It is a generational story about a group of families that all live in a small town in Indiana.  On the surface, they don't seem that different, but the things that make them tick are very diverse, as are the situations and difficulties they face in life.

I have tried to write this story and struggled with it endlessly for years, and it continues to develop in my mind.  It is just much too involved and layered and complicated to be able to figure out how to put on paper.  I could write about one family at a time, one generation at a time.  I could start at the beginning and follow a timeline, even if it requires several chapters to set up the background in the beginning.  I could tell it with flashbacks -- which I hate and I really don't want to do.  Anyway, it is frustrating.  Maybe, vignettes?

There was another development in the plot this week.  And I was forced to think about actually attempting to write this story again.

So tonight, in my "mood," I started smack in the middle of the timeline and typed away.

Now, at some point in time I figured out the historical context of this story, so that my characters were all at the right ages in the right eras.  And it just so happened that when I jumped in smack in the middle of this history, we ended up at the end of 1968 and the beginning of 1969.  The second generation was just beginning college and a promising new life and developments were happening that would change their whole future.  But the first generation, and the woman who started the whole story back in 1948 when she became a mother, found herself in a very dismal and depressing place where the world offered no promise of good except what she managed to dream of in her mind.

So, it didn't exactly improve my mood.  Which I don't really mind, because I like to feel things -- especially things that I wouldn't feel otherwise.

And tonight I feel the weight of the late 60s and the significance of what was happening in the world during that time.  I wish I could just sit down with someone who actively "lived" the late 60s and early 70s and pick their brains and explore their feelings about it all.  I don't mean someone who watched the world on the news and reacted.  I mean someone who saw it all first hand.  Someone who was "there" physically, emotionally, spiritually, and participated.

My uncle was in Vietnam.  If you know anyone that was over there back then, you understand exactly why I don't have anything more to say about that fact.  I feel very lucky, however, that though I don't understand what those veterans experienced and no one ever will, our society as a whole (and especially my generation) has learned enough about the situation since then to offer them some compassion and support rather than blaming them.  And in great part thanks to those veterans, despite the conflicting feelings that people in our country currently have about our conflicts overseas, we stand up for our soldiers, and my brother was welcomed home from Iraq with respect.

In my mind, the story I'm writing has developed far beyond what I wrote tonight.  Alice (the mother) is a happy grandmother facing the challenges of growing old and having to adapt to her physical limitations. Sadly, tonight I left her alone in her empty house in the dark, inaugural hours of 1969.  It is the first time she has ever been alone, and not only has her life changed in such a way that she's practically having an identity crisis, but also the world itself isn't encouraging her very much.

I identify deeply with Alice.  I cried shortly after 2010 rolled around, and I admit it.  It was the first time I had ever experienced a New Year that didn't feel like a fresh start, but a reminder of what had not come to pass and the bad things that happened the year before.

So try as I might to be happy for Alice's daughter -- the character that takes most prominence in my mind -- who has just moved to the big city and is successfully pursuing her dreams in a world that seems full of civil change and promise for the future generations; I can't help but sit in that big empty farmhouse with Alice, listening to the voice of a loved one who isn't physically there anymore.  It is so sad!

Ugh!

Tomorrow, church.

Going all Oprah on ya!

This post is going to be brief.

My grandmother and I decided that I need to lose about 25 pounds.  Ugh!

She is 90 years old and has somehow maintained a weight of 105 through six babies, aging, osteoporosis, and shrinking -- and she gets very concerned if she steps on the scale and it says 104 or 106.  She said that when she was my age, she was the same height I am -- 5'2.

I told her I could probably manage to make it down to 125.  I weighed 125 six years ago -- before I started dating my boyfriend and before I took a job working in a doctor's office.  I was pretty happy with my image at that time, and I fit into the nice clothes I bought for my new job.

I told her I might have weighed 105 when I came back from California (after days of practically starving).  My sister agreed that I looked pretty good back then -- especially when I wore the outfit that I wore on the plane home -- shiny fake snakeskin pants and a skinny black tank top with a shiny silver sunshine on the front.  (What a show-off!)

Yeah, I looked good back then.  I looked like a skinny Hollywood actress.  People back home couldn't wait to get some meat on my bones!

I told my grandmother I'd work on getting down to 125 and then we could take it from there.  I've tried to lose weight several times over the last six years and haven't succeeded at all.  However, I just dealt with a huge lifestyle change and this is a time for new beginnings.

How do you think I will do?

Simply, if I update you, I'll probably be making progress.  If you hear no more about it, then it will be pretty apparent that I didn't stick with my plans.

Oh, funny thing my grandmother said, too.  She said, "I just don't understand people that feel hungry all the time.  I've never felt hungry a day in my life."  Are you kidding me!?  Well, some people are just like that I guess.  I'm not!  I'm hungry right now!

Give me a break tomorrow, okay?  The boyfriend is planning on making Cuban sandwiches, which I love, and it will be my first well-rounded meal this week.

New beginnings and narrow paths? Shine.

Well, get this....

White roses

People that are closest to me know that I'm seeing white roses everywhere.  This has been going on for ... oh ... I'd say a few months?  At first I thought it was just a coincidence because most of them were popping up in the same place which is pretty logically explained.  But as more time passed, I started noticing white roses in more and more places.

I started thinking, "Is this a sign or something?" but I had no idea what it could mean.

Last Sunday was the first Sunday of the year and the first Sunday without Christmas decorations since Advent started.  Do you know what popped up in the vases on the alter at church?

Yep.  White roses.

Later in the week, I somehow ended up following a series of links and searches on the Internet to a floral website's description of what different colored flowers stood for, and it had a specific page for roses.

Now, don't think that I didn't look up the symbolism of white roses when I first started noticing them and trying to figure out what they meant.  I did.  But this website had a unique description on it that I hadn't found on any other sites.

It said that white roses can mean "new beginnings."  Hmmmm....

Disclaimer

I need to get something straight before I continue.  If you think this is going to turn into a churchy Christian blog, it isn't.  I greatly respect my Christian roots and beliefs, and I love my family and church family, but I also greatly respect and believe in many of the practices of other religions.  I consider myself a Christian because I have been a Christian -- literally dedicated to God by my parents -- since I was a baby.  However, you should not stereotype me as a Christian, because -- trust me -- I'm not one of "those."  My goal in life is to grow and learn and shine -- not shut out people and knowledge and truth.  No offense is meant by any of this!!!

Narrow paths and crosses

I'm really the only person my age that goes to Sunday School at our church.  I honestly avoided going for years and years.  I didn't want to go to the teen/youth class and the class up was filled with people between about 40 and 55 years old.  Although my mother fits in that age group, she started going to the "old lady class" instead.  (We're not very politically correct in our nicknames, are we?)  That is my grandmother's class and it is a shrinking group of silver-haired widows and a couple of their daughters who should be in the next class down but have good reason to stick with the older ladies.

My mother talked me into going to that class with her, and they are pretty insightful!  (I put an exclamation point not because I am surprised, but because they are more insightful and thoughtful than any other class I've ever gone to.)  They listen in mutual conversation and sit and chat about their ideas and still somehow manage to finish the lesson in less than an hour.

Last Sunday's lesson was about how following God or doing the right thing isn't easy.  We talked a lot about "false prophets" and how you can tell the difference between honest people and people that will mislead you.  (Hint:  the Fruits of the Spirit.)  It all related to choosing the wide path or the narrow winding path, and how the rewards at the end of narrow, winding path are the ones you want.

(By the way, the Bible also says that your path will be made straight.  There are different ways to interpret that and I've heard a few of them.  Right now, I like to think it means that things will eventually be laid out for you or make sense.)

On the back of the church bulletin was a little passage about how Jesus always had a cross, and that when we choose to follow Jesus, we have to "take up our cross."  No one said it would be easy, but it would be fulfilling and right.

Which ended up being quite the coincidence because that's what today's Sunday School lesson was about.  We talked about service -- the act of serving.

Timing and the lessons involved

I was slightly confused about the whole idea of following the narrow, winding path because I sure haven't been walking on a wide bed of rose petals all these years and I'm still faced with some of the worst frustrations I could imagine.

But last week's sermon sort-of cleared things up for me.  The pastor talked about Zachariah and Elizabeth, who always wanted children and couldn't have them.  (Gospel of Luke)  Zachariah and Elizabeth prayed and prayed for a child, and when they were elderly and it seemed ridiculous, they were given the miracle of a son.  An angel told them, "God has heard your prayers."

So, some would ask why, if God heard their prayers, did they have to wait so long?  It was all about timing.  You see, Elizabeth became pregnant shortly before Mary.  Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Zachariah and Elizabeth were the parents of John the Baptist -- the prophet who was to prepare the way for Jesus Christ.

The point?  Sometimes, when you're doing everything the way you're supposed to be doing it and you still don't get your prayers answered, it is because it just isn't right for you yet.  It will come to you at the best time.

Miracles

Today's sermon was about miracles and how to pray for them.  Who hasn't prayed or at least wished for a miracle.  You know what the first step to seeing a miracle is?  Believing in them.

Here are the keys to praying for a miracle, according to our pastor:

1.  Patience.  Remember that thing about waiting till the right time???  You must have humility and trust that what you're praying for will come to you in the right time.

2.  Passion.  Make sure you passionately want what you are asking for.  Miracles don't come to people who "kind-of" want them or "think" they want them.  You have to have a need in your life and/or your heart.

3.  Persistence.  Don't give up.  When you start believing in something and it takes longer than you thought it would, it can be discouraging.  Negativity will try to gain a foothold.  Don't let it.  Keep trying.  Keep pursuing what it is that you love or need.  Like the verse says, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."  (Notice that there are action verbs.  Ask.  Seek.  Knock.  In other words, don't sit around and wait for something to happen.)

4.  Be Precise.  You have to tell God exactly what you need.  After all, how can you believe in something with passion and faith if you don't know what, exactly, it is?

Then, step back and let go - let God have it.  Leave it in his hands.  Like, "Thy will be done."

5.  Gratefulness.  Have faith and be grateful -- out loud.  Proclaim it.  Give credit where credit is due.  Prove to others that miracles do happen.  Be prepared for this.

Our pastor reminded us twice -- both in the beginning of the sermon and at the end -- that the greatest miracle of all is being saved.

So anyway....

I believe in continual salvation.  My philosophy in life is to always continue to grow and understand new things and new perspectives.

I don't know what direction my life will take in the next year, but I have to believe there is something great out there for me.

I think my most recent mantras both apply.

1.  (Believe in) Open doors.
2.  Let your light shine!

"...Diva, if you look at the Latin root of the word, is about being close to the divine, not about excluding other people and energy from what it is that makes you shine, okay?" 

- Robin Strasser