Pre-Thanksgiving Musings

Tomorrow we will engage in that age old American tradition called Thanksgiving. Thanks to Harvard's dining services I learned that it didn't become an official holiday until George Washington made it happen.

In my family that means gathering at my mom's house with my aunt and uncle, cousin, her husband and child, brother and his two kids and my grandmother. This will be the first Thanksgiving in several years that my brother has attended. I don't think I've seen him since last Christmas as he refused my invitation for lunch (by lying and telling me he was too busy when it was really because Tara wouldn't let him) and to attend my recital (by lying and telling me he was away, when in fact, he had the kids that weekend) and never responded to my emails about therapy with Tara (that one I was fine with, but it would have been nice if he'd responded).

I am very curious to see how he behaves towards me, particularly with the kids around. I've tried to open the door for him since he separated from Tara a few weeks ago by sending an email just to let him know I was thinking about him and hoped he was doing okay. I do feel all those things and want him to be happy, but I'm pretty pissed that he put her before family and wouldn't stand up to her enough to say, 'hey, you might not like/be threatened by my sister, but I'm going to have a relationship with her.' The fact that I showed up for a summer's worth of therapy when it seems as though he wasn't ever really honest in those sessions and just pretended like he was all fine with me, when really he was going home and not being fine with me to his wife, adds to my ire. I wish I felt hopeful that he and I could have a confrontation that would lead to resolution and progress forward. One in which he is first, honest with himself and second, honest with me. Maybe some day.

Second, I learned yesterday that my grandmother is in acute kidney failure and while she may hold steady at the 15% function that she currently has, the decision has been made to not pursue dialysis which likely means kidney failure will lead to her death sometime in the not so distant future. She has always possessed such a zeal for life and not wanted to miss out on a thing so it breaks my heart to think about her not getting to witness the rest of our lives. So much of what I love to do is a result of what she taught my mom who taught me and the things she taught me to do directly. She is the original crafty lady, knitting, sewing and baking up a storm. Many of my happiest childhood memories are directly linked to time spent with my grandparents, both with my parents there and when it was just us kids.

So, as usual, I'm have mixed feelings about going home for Thanksgiving. Someday I really am going to jet off to a tropical island and spend the 4 day weekend on a beach and just not participate. Someday.

I know there's something wrong with me,

but I love this website. (Link on the left to I can has cheezburger). There is something about these pictures with stupid captions that just crack me up.

Do you really want to hurt me?

Oh, Boy George. Did you really want to hurt him ? How the mighty have fallen.

There hasn't been much celebrity news of late to report on. BUT, that all changed today with the story of Boy George's internet plaything who came over for a nudie photo shoot or two, only to find himself chained to the wall and beaten for supposedly hacking into BG's computer.

Seriously? Do you think Boy George, George Michael and Michael Jackson are friends? They seem to have similar issues of in flagrante with call boys of one kind or another.

Did it escape BG that even though he's probably now considered a D-list celeb. random people might see opportunity? Or, did the call boy just make up the story to try and make it seem better that he consented to a little S&M that got kinda out of hand?

I loves me some celebrity news!

Clockwatchin' got me into it and not clockwatchin' will get me out

It is funny how much of my life is spent in anticipation of being done with one thing so as to get to the next. Rumor has it, when you live that way, you actually miss out on living. Beginning to understand this is like starting to see the sun as an eclipse passes. First you see the hazy edges and slowly the big ball of illumination becomes clear again.

For the first part of the fall I went one day at a time, not doing much looking forward and contemplating the end of the term. Each day was fine. I was busy, but content and engaged in my teaching in a way I don't think I've ever experienced. For some reason at the halfway point I took stock and that made me start to think about being 5 weeks ahead in time and no longer needing to go to class for 3 hours Monday nights, studying for exams I don't want to be taking and not having to be on for an entire day offering advice, moral support and constructive criticism to students. That lead to thinking about the end of the yoga program and how much I love the weekends there, but am ready to have my life back on that front and how thrilling it will be to have accomplished the whole program. The big project from hell at work picked up and I resisted being the person in charge of it yet I knew it was going to fall to me anyway. So I started to think about how much I wanted to not only not be doing it, but how much I wanted it to be done.

From there life sort of went in a downward spiral of stress. I started waking up at night, unable to fall back to sleep for several hours. I opted to sleep in a bit rather than get up and do yoga and some meditation. Weeknights became busy with work commitments and meeting dates for drinks so I didn't get to the gym as I had the weeks before. Basically, my zen state evaporated before my very eyes. Like all good spirals, it just intensified, with me becoming more and more stressed. What's funny is I just watched myself go. Kinda like standing next to your body and watching it walk out onto a busy street and just saying to yourself, 'Huh, probably not the best idea, but go for it anyway, you've done it before and not gotten hit too hard.'

This is the first day in a very long time that I got up and did yoga and then meditated for a bit. I don't want this stress to result in getting a cold or the flu and I'm tired of not sleeping and know there is no need for it. Perhaps today can begin the trend of returning to living in the present rather than living in anticipation of the future. Now, to study for tonight's exam...

Whaaa?

I have to tell on myself.

Last night I had a dream that I was in the Caribbean (normal, acceptable).
I was floating in a very salty ocean that was so salty you floated without trying (a bit out there).
I floated along until I bumped into Eddie Murphy with a major afro and his 2 children - one an infant and got to chatting (not at all normal).
Next thing I knew we were married and I was at an event holding the infant (very, very not normal).

Freud would probably have a field day with me.

Never forget...

Consider this an hommage...

(maybe Natae will be the only one to get the joke)....

Last night I had a brush with celebrity. We were sitting in class listening to the teacher talk about how to prepare for next week's test when there came a loud knock upon the door. She stopped talking, appearing to be a bit annoyed and waited, staring at the door.

The door swung open and in stepped Steven Tyler emitting some kind of sound akin to "eeeyyyyeeaaahhh," and then he said, "how is everybody? They told me I should come say hi". Several girls gasped as he flashed his megawatt smile about. My eye was drawn to the blond highlights in his hair. Behind him was voice doc extraordinaire, Steven Zeitels. The two of them thought this was enormously funny. Tara, our teacher, not so much.

I think Tyler went on to say something like "learn lots!" and closed the door.

That, my friends, was the only highlight of class.

A fun and funny weekend

The highlight of this past weekend was definitely going to the BSO with Ben, courtesy of Ben's mom's tickets as a trustee. There was even a fancy pants reception and dinner before hand that we got to crash. So we were younger than everyone else there by about 30 years and I stuck out in my red dress, but, armed with glasses of wine we made nice with the old ladies and met some very interesting people. Our seats were phenomenal, the music fantabulous and the champagne reception at intermission, icing on the cake.

As this was date #3 we forged into the territory of families. He has 2 siblings and his older sister is a novelist. Of TRASH!!! I already love this woman. Yesterday I hoofed it to a bookstore to get one of her books. The title is "Sex and the Immortal Bad Boy". I laughed all the way to the register and hadn't even read a page yet. The general plot is that the main character worked briefly for Satan and then got out of it but was cursed and is going to lose her soul. Enter Jed, the tall, dark and handsome shadow warrior who not only is going to save her, but he also savor's her, if you get my drift.

I'd like to quote a passage to you, dear readers:

"They landed in Satan's bedroom, where Satan was sitting on his bed, wearing gold silk pajamas and thick glasses. He was reading a book titled Too Many Women, Not Enough Beds: Why you should forget about 'The One' and move on. He had Dirty Dancing playing on his plasma television and a stack of romance novels on the floor by his fireplace, several of which were already burning in the flames. And he was wearing a LOVE SUCKS button on his left lapel and SEX ROCKS one on his right." P 214

I called Ben last night to ask more questions about his sister. Because, honestly, who comes up with this stuff? I mean it is funny, but a lil' out there! Knowing what I know of him, I'm guessing the whole family has this same active imagination. I asked him if his mom reads his sister's books. "Of Course," was his reply. I'm guessing he hasn't read any, because I'm thinking reading explicit sex scenes written by your sister might kinda skeeve a guy out.

Needless to say there were some funny looks aimed my way when I pulled the book out to read on my way to work this morning!

My Disdain of The Wheel

Now, before you go off thinking I'm hateful towards the object that makes the bus go 'round, I'll clarify to say this post is about the yoga pose called the wheel - Urdvadanurasana. I HATE this pose. We haven't had to do it since last winter and I'd forgotten the sheer loathing it evokes in me.

Last night we had to do it not once, not twice, but three times. In a row.

Why do I dislike this pose, you ask?

I'll tell you why. I can get up into it just fine. Sometimes my wrists feel a little jammed, but overall it isn't particularly hard. My dislike comes from the emotional after effects. It makes me hateful. I get irritated, snapish and all around ugly after doing it. Several hours later when I try to go to sleep I can't. When I finally fall asleep I wake up frequently during the night. All of that makes for a sucky day after (like today) when I feel off from not sleeping and my stomach is a bit unsettled.

From an energetic standpoint most yoga poses are either calming or energizing. Backbends are big-time energizers. The wheel is probably the most energizing and targets the 3rd and 4th chakras which are associated with sense of self and the heart center respectively. They are located at the solar plexus (stomach area) and center of the chest (heart area). It is not lost on me that I have stomach issues after doing it along with some emotional stirring up. It is also not lost on me that when I've done my meditation practice from the summer to now, negotiating the heart center has proved difficult. Most of the meditations focus on moving some sort of light/energy through the spine and skull. When I get to the heart area it is like a dense dark area that no light can penetrate through. Immediately above and below it, I can feel the energy/light and move it as needed.

So, what's a yogi in training to do? This weekend I'm going to try going to yoga on Sunday morning. Backbends are winter-time staples for Barbara, our teacher, so there's no avoiding them, but I wonder if the effects will be more positive if done earlier in the day. It is hard to get motivated to practice something that produces such yucky after effects, but maybe I need to delve into the yuck for a bit to wade through it and see what's on the other side.

About that time when I went in for a trim....

...and came out shorn like a sheep...

Yeah, that time. Yesterday.

Shoot.

I told Mindy I loved the cut she gave me the last time and it has been 7 weeks, so I'd like the same thing, just with 7 weeks worth of growth cut off - you know, like maybe a 1/2 inch at most....what she did required her to shave the back of my neck because the length is above my hairline in the back. The shortest layers on top don't even come to my ear despite my telling her I liked to tuck it behind my ears. "That's short" I proclaimed when she finally let me see it. "I know," she said, "that's how I like to wear my hair most of the time." Ummmmm, I'M NOT YOU!

My hair is shorter than I've ever had it. Last night, after walking in the wind to and from class on Cambridge Street it lay flat against my head and all I could think about was the time when I was little and stood in line at the movies. A little boy tried to cut in front of me and his mom pulled him back saying "No, let that little boy go ahead of you." Yep, I was mistaken for a boy as a child. The androgynous psuedo Dorothy Hamil haircut left me looking like who knew what and I'm pretty sure I wasn't ever done up in frilly anything as a 5 year old. Apparently that had a greater effect on me than I ever thought, though I'm fairly sure it would be unlikely for anyone to mistake me as a boy at my proud age of 35!

It'll grow and in a month I'll probably love it. Until then Kat suggested I look at this as my economic downturn haircut. Think of all the money I'll save because it'll be many months before it needs to be cut again and I'll use less shampoo. As a sidebar, there is nothing more disturbing than running your fingers through your hair in the shower and being reminded of how little of it is still there.

Sigh.

My favorite present

With all due respect to the others who have given me, or will give me presents, I have to say this one is my favorite.

Emily proudly informed me yesterday that she had made over 50% of my birthday presents! This one is crafted from a paper towel, then covered in pink tissue paper, secured with masking tape and topped with two popsicle sticks also held together with masking tape. It is, I was told, a necklace holder. I simply drape them on the horizontal popsicle stick and they will be at the ready when I want to wear them, eliminating the fuss of hunting through my jewelry box.

I just love that girl to pieces.

B-day horoscope

From the Boston Globe. I rather like what they have to say on my birthday!

You are in the early stages of something big, so don't lose momentum or scatter your energy. Keep things simple, focused and within your budget. This is an important year that can determine what you will do for years to come. Open up to new ideas and don't hold back. A day lost can turn into a series of misfortunes. Be true to yourself and you will have no regrets. Love is mounting, so make plans to do something cozy and romantic. You can make some interesting changes to your future plans, allowing you to make a profit via a new revenue stream.

The 3:47 mind

Do you have one of these? It is a mind that wakes you up religiously at the same time when you are stressed, even when you think you aren't all that stressed? This summer I had no 3:47 mind. I slept soundly for 7-8 hours a night. Suddenly, last week, the stressed mind returned.

Not coincidentally, the massive project from hell at work picked up last week as and I entered PMS land. But, what I find fascinating about my brain at that hour is the level to which it can take something that during normal waking hours, I find to be not such a big deal. It makes me wonder if what I'm willing to write off as minor at 3pm is actually major, but I don't acknowledge it until 3am.

In recent nights I've awakened and found myself lying there thinking about how annoyed I am that though I thought I had resigned from the alumni foundation, I keep having to do work for them. Or, annoyed that though my admin position is the equivalent of 2 full working days I'm saddled with a project that demands the attention of someone who is full time. Or, that I have a boss who has, in the last week, written me at least 7 emails written in all caps. I want to write back and tell him I don't respond to being shouted at. Then I can find myself turning over the fact that I'm 35, the age at which our culture advertises that your eggs shrivel up and die and if they do live you're gonna have a down's syndrome baby. So, my brain says at 3:47 am, you haven't met anyone and even if you do, it's gonna be at least a year before you get married so you might as well give up the whole kid idea right now.

During normal waking hours, I am aware of all of those issues, but none seem to annoy me or upset me at anything more than a minor level. So which mind is right? Are they less major issues and my brain is just bored and looking for things to do, or are the effecting me on a deeper level that I'm not seeing when I'm wide awake?

After today, I'm taking a 4 day weekend to have a little break from work. I hope that time away will give me some time to unwind and de-stress a bit. Perhaps I'll also move from PMS to DMS as that always seems to help in the outlook on life.

Words escape me

It is hard to come up with words to express my shear elation at the election results. From all the lead up it seemed as though Obama had it in the bag, but you just never know. It is an amazing contrast to the reaction to the last election - and where I live probably has a lot to do with that - I don't know that people were dancing in the streets in Texas last night, but they sure were here.

I was in a restaurant/bar for dinner and when the results started to be announced, the entire place cheered when Obama won a state. You could have heard a pin drop when McCain got one. There was a group of string players playing Irish music and even they'd stop to oogle the television when new results came in.

Apparently the Harvard students were literally out dancing in the streets after. Riot police were called in, but they all just high fived each other! I rode home in a cab with a driver who could not vote here yet he was listening intently to NPR as they announced results and snorted when the announcer mentioned Sarah Palin. It was a funny ride home because he was so distracted by the news that he forgot to turn his meter on so we dickered a bit over how much I'd pay.

I hope the world can sense the elation that this country feels as we watch for the change we hoped for become the change we will live.

Thinking inside the box

My latest library trip produced the book The Creative Habit, by Twyla Tharp to read. In a nutshell, she wrote a book that tells about how she maneuvered a creative process for herself that helped to create her career as a choreographer. She talks a lot about the value of discipline and making time every day to pursue your creative ventures in order to excel at them. Some of her ideas don't appeal to me at all. But, that's the beauty of books like this, you take what works for you and chuck the rest.

One chapter is titled "Before you can think out of the box, you have to start with a box". When she gets an idea for a project she sets up a box into which she places things that inspire her in relation to the project. Once a project is done, she can have an archaeological expedition through the box to review its evolutionary process. It was so interesting to read about her process because I do similar things, but haven't ever made a box out of stuff (and I sort of fear that if I did, I'd have a second bedroom riddled with half filled boxes of ideas) and haven't ever thought about the way creative ideas get connected for me. What I do have is several file folders into which I put articles that interest me - usually something related to music. There are articles on commissioned works that I found intriguing, organizations that have formed for charity (Socialist, some soon not-to-be vp's might say) reasons, and yoga as it relates to singing.

But, I can see from how she talks about evolutionary process that I do it too. One article I read was about a program a local music college set up with Venezuela. They started by sending instruments down to schools. Then a partnership formed to create an orchestra and a school. The theory was that putting kids in music lessons after school would get them off the streets and help to squash the drug culture. In turn, kids learn a trade that, if they persist at it, will get them either a spot in the orchestra or as a teacher. Either way they are earning a decent living and won't be pushing drugs to make money. I cut the article out because I thought that would be the sort of organization I would like to work for. Ultimately, the concept of 'doing for others through music' was what spoke to me and turned me onto the idea of offering fundraising concerts. So, the top of my box, where that article would be at the bottom, would have the program from my September concert and all the research and music I sifted through to finalize the program. It would also have the books Three Cups of Tea and Banker to the Poor in it.

Another article I cut out a while ago was about a woman who commissioned a work to be written for her to sing, using Hester Prynne's life from The Scarlet Letter. After I read it, I started wondering what heroine I would play in a work I commissioned. One thing lacking in my stage career was characters of substance. The maid and the little sister never presented the kind of heart or humor with which I wanted to sing. Finally, I arrived at being Nancy Drew. I know, so me, right? I started collecting the Nancy Drew books that I read as a kid - part of the appeal was the kitchy language from the 40's and 50's - going through them and pulling out text that I liked. I envisioned a song cycle with songs about the villains, her relationship with Ned, Hannah and her father, the roadster, and her Friends Bess and George. Somewhere I have a notebook with all my notes, but I stopped when I realized I had no idea how to find a composer to work with on the project. But, maybe I'll make a box and put stuff inside...

Another box I could make would right now contain only the idea that came to me while I watched the bad dance concert, written about in an earlier post. In one of the dances they used a Schubert lied. I liked watching the dancer move as I heard the singer perform (though it was via recording and not live). It affected me differently than watching dancing with just instrumental music. Wouldn't it be interesting, I thought, to do a recital in this space where the singer and dancer(s) were both on stage with a dance going on while the songs were sung? Finding music to put together a story line and having it choreographed sounds like a really interesting, collaborative project. I wondered how an audience would take something like that in. Would it be too much to watch two visual components of performance - to have the pianist, singer duo along with any dancers? I've thought about approaching the head of the dance program with my idea to see what she thinks, but don't have the time right now.

The other thing Tharp talks about that I like is what she calls 'scratching', or how she finds her next creative idea. It is the equivalent of a painter going to a museum to see works of art, or a singer going to a concert to hear another singer, each looking for inspiration. But, there are the less obvious times to scratch like when real life is going on and you are going through your regular day. If you pay attention, something may catch your eye. Tharp 'scratches' for little ideas, because she feels big ideas come to her in flashes, but it is the little ideas that get you going. You improvise based on a snipit, until things come together in some kind of coalescence.

I read this chapter on scratching after this past weekend. In teacher training we were talking about chakras and nadis. As we talked I found myself doodling on my page to create another representation of the chakras and before I knew it, I had a quilt design idea in front of me. If I made a box for it, I'd take the chakra handout that someone in class passed around, my design and the pieces of fabric I already own that I envision going into the quilt (I see the cool batiks that are sold at the fabric store in Arlington in the various chakra color families, being blended together by curves to make a design that doesn't necessarily have a defined outline until you look closely).

So, I have LOTS of ideas, but am often not sure how to make them come to life and often realize that I have too many ideas to execute so I have to pick and choose. It did make me wonder if there is some way I could find to just work as an 'artist' and spend my days doing all the crafty, creative things I enjoy. Hello, sugar daddy??

Your Dreams on Crack

Last night I had a funny dream. I was in a dark place (like an enclosed football stadium) sitting down on the field with the guy I am "meant to be with" yet it is dark and and I'm behind him so I can't see his face and am not sure who it is. But, I know that if I move around to the front of him, I will be able to see his face and I'll know who I'm meant to be with...so I do and what face do I find myself looking at....Bill's...In the dream I just say to myself matter of factly, no, you aren't the one. Then he proceeds to tell me that he has to go to Alaska for 7 weeks and I tell him he has that amount of time to work out all of his issues or I'm not spending my life with him. (For the record I believe this dream was the result of the book that I'm reading which features a woman falling for a football coach...so we had football in the dream and the only person I've dated who is a coach).

Then, the dream flips to my going to a yoga studio to take a class (in real life I'm in the middle of a yoga weekend this weekend). I get inside and scan the board to see who is teaching a class I want to take. I don't see any that appeal but my friends are there so I decide to go to a class with them. As I'm putting my mat down I realize, no I really don't want to do this, I want to be doing my own thing and starting my own yoga thing up. So I rolled up my mat and left. Pretty true, that I do want to be doing my own thing, not following what someone else has already set up.

At least there weren't any 3-headed aliens involved, but dinner had been a little spicy...