Resurface

So, yeah. I appreciated all the comments to the last post. Coaster Punchman took it to e-mail and engaged me with some real talk and a psychotherapuetic exercise to help me suss out the real me. In addition, I called up my Pastor Hero to drop it all into his lap again after a year of absence. He too turned the mirror of therapy around so that I could get a long hard look.

Also, I called MFTD and used him yet again for a stress valve. He and Coaster Punchman have a lot in common, I'm amused to say. And they have the goal they would both like me to reach.

And I was able to make up my mind.

Either I get with a woman who's life I can enrich and draw enrichment from, or I stay single.

Is that going to make you happy, I hear you ask. And this is the answer--I would be significantly less happy if those two conditions weren't occurring in my life. I'm not expecting to be more happy than what we all usually experience, whether we're hetero or homo.

When I'm alone, I'm mostly happy. I get to do what I want. All the money is mine. All my non-work time is mine. I get to be selfish by default. And when I live on my own again, I'm getting a cat.

And yet I know that with the right person, sharing your time is worth it. Enter the little missus. Since relationships take work, I need as little a reason to bolt as possible. I've got a lot of things to learn about personal compromise, and dividing my time and growing my tolerance. While carrying out these tasks, I need next to NO ONE in my face adding to the challenge. No people who disapprove, no societal battles to fight, no stares from children, no scorn or patronization from neighors.

Dead horse beaten one last time.

Would It Be A Waste?

Adele is a sober, non-crack taking Amy Winehouse. She's as English as Amy too. Her, Duffy, Leona Lewis, Lily Allen--lots of British girls gettin' their funky divas on!

Yeah, I just want to BE in the relationship already. The Past Girl can definitely use a margin of time to approach the idea of a relationship and I'm the guy seemingly in a rush. Best case scenario is that I'm the first person she's considered in that way since her fiancee died. I'm sure I heard her say that she was wondering if this meant she was supposed to just rest for a while, in a What-does-God-want-me-to-do-now? sense, which, yeah--she has that spiritual outlook and has done since the first time I re-met her, and it's a big part of her character and her strength, and of my attraction to her. She's probably more spiritual than me these days. And yes, she reminds me a HELL of a lot of you Grizz. She's loving and supportive and kind like you. So she just may be gun-shy of another relationship right now. Which means I should wait it out.

And why not? I'm only in a rush because I'll be 45 this year. But I need to get out of my rush. There's no one else on my horizon that I like better. Which, oddly enough, I realize there are at least two others on my horizon, which doesn't include My Colleague, btw. Ned helped me get over her real quick. (She's flirting with me while she's got a man.) There are two ladies at the day job, at two different sites, who really put on the flirt when I come around. I've spoken about one already, but I've said nothing about the other, who is a supervisor at the site where I first met The Past Girl. But Supervisor Girl smokes occasionally and she talks to herself while using the bathroom (Yes, sorry, it's true. That's the only way I'd know it--because she talks to herself LOUDLY.) Funny but scary. The other one, I was very close to asking out, which again, I haven't mentioned -- or maybe I did? -- but I have said I have a crush on. Her signals are much clearer than The Past Girl's, but she (let's call her Director Girl) has a temper that I've seen in meetings that we've attended together. Director Girl is open with her emotions, which is how I can tell she digs me every time we cross paths, and that's what I'm sure I respond to. I like being found attractive. But again, I'm sure that temper will come into play as well as her affection if she and I were ever in a relationship and I'm just not trying to have it.

The Past Girl doesn't seem anything like that. She might in fact be missing that aspect of personality. She says she has "blonde moments." She covers up her insecurities with words and laughter. And colored contacts. And faith in God?

I don't know. Maybe I'm not good for her. Maybe I'd be cruel. Or maybe I'd drag her faith down with my wounds and scars. Maybe I'm worse than I think I am.

I don't know. All I know is, she fits me. There is no fear or trepidation when I think of her. I only hesitate when I think of putting an end to the positive aspects of my aloneness. There is an unaccountability that I live by, and I enjoy it. I want to get on a train and bop down to get fried shrimp? I do it. I want to stay in the room all day on my one day off and produce audio drama? I do it. I want to blow 40 bucks on comics and read them while eating Lay's BBQ potato chips in bed? Crunch crunch crunch!! I want to look at pictures of the buff men in the brightly colored speedos? (Which actually? IS reading superhero comics! Why didn't I realize that before??) Click click click!!

But ultimately, loving someone is more human than being alone.

And I want to be human.

So yes, Grizz, I agree. I should keep chasing pavements. Even if it leads nowhere.

Geekfest Day Two

Better than I feared.

On Day Two of the Geekfest, I took a slow boat downtown and had a Disillusion Hangover from the day before. The sharp edges of the hangover had been dulled by the personable time I had with Transplanted Geek and I thought I would just placate myself with that.

I was to meet up with MFTD (yes that "MFTD." There's a reason he's "MF--") at the Con for Day Two, but he was going to meet with his brother and I had the impression that he wanted to hang with family, but it turned out that I was wrong. So after a nice hour or so of isolation and self-pity, I caught back up to MFTD, his brother, and his brother's friend--just in time for My Hero's Posse Geek to call me and get cut loose from his responsibilities for the day, and we all went to a new diner on the West side not too far from the Javitz. And we had a great time!

MFTD and his brother and brother's friend were done for the evening, but I was not. So I took My Hero's Posse Geek (him I know through My Hero's fanclub) to the big dinner planned for Saturday night where I hoped I'd run back into Mr. Fantastic and The Human Torch.

And we did. And the pictures shall now commence.

However, let me point you attention to the following one taken by another geek, which has now served to be the single most effective method of getting me back on my diet and to never. Again. Get. Off. It.

Plaintiff's Exhibit A (Click on it for the full pic);

Yeah, that's me in the red shirt with white stripes. On 2/7/09. And yeah, I'm back over 200 lbs. again. And yeah, I've been packing away the sugar again. Because yeah, I've been depressed again. So yeah, the last few months have been a vacation in the key islands of Sucksville. And yup, I'm going to need help waddling my ass to the gym again and stopping the white mocha lattes and the strawberry coolattas and the slices of coconut cake.

But aside from that how ya like my long grey sideburns? Sexy, right? Across from me is a nice guy from Colorado, but to his left is Mr. Fantastic and to Mr. Fantastic's left is The Human Torch--the two guys that in my last post I chiefly wanted to get to know. (And to my right is My Hero's Posse Geek)

And they like me. A lot!

Mr. Fantastic called me "family" and gave me a big hug. The Human Torch sent me a PM the next day and told me he enjoyed meeting me, then told all the folks at our messageboard that I was a lot shorter and more quiet than he expected (because as you all know, when I'm typing, I know how to truly CUT THE FOOL) but after he got to know me, I was as funny and as nice as I was online.

And this is the part where I do some introspection.

I need people. I need affection. I need love in any form. When I listen to podcasts, I'm listening to guys (and gals) who express opinion, facts, and personality. These to me are the composite components of what makes us US. The expression of our souls comes out in our art and in our words. Podcasters are expressionists of the highest order. You hear the sound of their voices, their laughter, and sometimes their tears. You hear their anger, their doubts, their frustrations, their fears. Like any talk format, you feel a bond form. But of course, them being on the other end of distance, time, and a microphone prevents the relationship form being two-way.

And isn't the same to be said about blogging?

And as Grizzbabe and Fringes and Q can attest, you can fall in love with someone who you only know by the words they type or the one-way conversation they might be having through a podcast. The trick is in trying to turn that one-way into a two-way.

Well, on Day Two of the Geekfest, I turned the one-way into a face-to-face two-way. And it helps me feel--good. And that's all I want. I just want to feel good. I'm taking a med to smooth away the edge of fear, and now I want some friends I can count on. Ultimately, I know I'm responsible for my own happiness. I know none of these guys, including MFTD, should feel obligated to make me feel loved or accepted. As none of you dear readers are obligated as well. But I'm not going to lie or even pretend.

I love it when you do. And I love you. This is what humanity is all about.

And I'm human.

A Great Way To Start The Year...

...GrizzBabe Just Got Engaged!!


WooooHOOOO!!!

The Interview

We clinicians are an odd lot. As was my interviewer. He was all over the place. We spoke more about his personal life than the job. It was like he was looking for a new friend, rather than an employee.

The position is hinky, at best. It's like becoming the mental health equivalent of an ambulance chaser. My job would be to create clientele out of waiting medical center patients. Which is something I feel I could do. And he promises a salary as opposed to per hour or per diem. And I really want the change.

But, Grizz as you said, my friends are giving me really good advice. Add my lion of comics podcasting to the mix. Do I really want to give up benefits for a part-time job, even though the money is promised to be the same?

The interviewer wants me for the job. Looks like I may have to turn it down.

And then I had three more great sessions tonight, with clients just dripping with "aha!" moments left and right. One was compelled to say how much this is helping them. Me seeing therapeutic approaches unfolding as we navigate the terrain of their lives. Such amazing journeys. Such a privilege to be trusted and be brought along. So healing for me as well. So redeeming.

Today on a morning show here in NYC (and in other parts of the country, the crew sent one of their own out in a pilgrim outfit to give away turkey sandwiches. It started out as a way to make an ass of the pilgrim, but the pilgrim found a shelter and a line of people outside it to give the sandwiches away to, and as you heard him offering and each one taking them, the whole moment was transformed from a joke to a near-weeping triumph of human spirit. It threw the host totally off his game and I swear it sounded like he was fighting tears as they all started praising the pilgrim-dressed crewmember and adding to his altruism by phone.

I just think this is what it's about. Helping people. Stretching out from self and uplifting someone with your energy. Maybe that carpenter dude had it right 2000 plus years ago.

"And the greatest commandment is this; that you love your (N)eighbor as yourselves."

;-D

'Tis Not So Deep As A Well ...

... nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve." -Mercutio, Romeo & Juliet, Act 3, Scene 1

So describes Mercutio of the wound he's received from that bastard Tybalt which, offstage, ends up claiming his life.

Disclaimer; This post will be an expurgation of some messy and miserable feelings that I need out of me right now. I'm not holding anyone responsible for coming to my rescue. Let me purge and most likely, I'll be okay.

So I'm finishing up "The Time Traveler's Wife" and damn if I'll not be in tears by the time I hit the back page. If you intend to read this, be warned that I must use spoilers if I'm going to finish this post.

Henry is the "time traveler". He actually displaces from his present and go bodily into his past or more rarely, his future. He's a lot like a TARDIS because he doesn't just move in time, but in place as well. He seems to go to places only linked to his own life, as opposed to random spots across the globe. And mostly, he goes to places that hold a lot of emotional meaning for him, such as his wife's life. Right now it reads more like a fantasy than science fiction because there' no explanation for why this random time hopping knows how to place him at the site of events that mean so much to him. What agency is in charge of his meeting his wife when she is 8 years old? Or that takes him several times over his lifespan to the various vantage points around his mother's hideous death by car accident? Or to the museum where his future daughter happens to be on a field trip? It's the author's artistic license exercised to tell a story about emotion and about loss.

And the loss is about to have me sobbing.

First of all, and maybe what I most want to focus on is the loss Clare, the titular Wife suffers every time Henry blinks away. The book doesn't spend needless time telling us about any pining that Clare does when Henry is gone, but it happens so often that I can't help but feel it. Clare first meets a full grown Henry at about six or eight, and continues to see him sporadically through her childhood until she is 18. At first, he is the perfect imaginary friend. He comes to see her alone and he is her secret. She has to feed him and clothe him. He needs her. Then as she goes into her adolescence, she begins to fall in love with him. This is well and good since Henry knows from the moment he sees her 6 (or 8) year-old-self that she will grow up to be his wife.

And so, every time she sees him, it feels like its me each time I see a post response or a new post on my blogroll. And every time Henry leaves her (going back to his present) it's like the time I spend between new posts. Oh she has friends and she even has family, but none of it is as special as what she has with this amazing new life form, the time traveler, who is just a human really, but a human who can show her and tell her amazing things. They way you guys do to me with the innermost feelings of your hearts.

And when Clare turns twenty, she finally sees Henry for "real" in his present. By this time she already knows she'll be married to him--but this time it's Henry who doesn't know it. It's only his future self who has been traveling back to see Clare's younger self. This present Henry has never met Clare before. And so they become a couple and get married. But Henry continues to time travel. Vanishing away. So even though Clare found him and has him, she cannot keep him.

And I swear, that's how I feel. I get so attached to you guys--my friends and the family that I choose--but we are all so far apart. Not hearing from you is like losing you and not knowing if I'll ever "see" you again. Trying not to worry that you're all doing okay out there, set adrift in time as you are, but every time you return with a response, a post, I heave a sigh of relief. I smile like a loon. And just like Henry, it's not something you can avoid. You all have lives to live, jobs to work, kids to raise, lovers to pursue. Of course you do. So I sit and understand and wait. I go to the friends I have nearby and I try to make myself busy, but I'm thinking of you all. I work to earn my money, but I use every available router signal to check to see if you've returned.

Obsess much, Alan?

I'll tell you what I'm addicted to. I'm addicted to the unedited mind. One of the reasons I love working with the developmentally disabled is because there's no screen or facade between us. What you see is what you get. And to me, there's nothing more beautiful than the honest heart. The open sharing between two individuals who have chosen each other. It's a lot like being in therapy, except there I'm not being paid to reciprocate my open wounds. But when my clients open up--there's just nothing more precious to me. Nothing I respect more. Each client unhinges a chamber door and holds out its contents for me to examine and to treat. And I look and it is as fragile as a newborn kitten. It might be sticky with amniotic fluid, or crying with a wide open harmless mouth empty of teeth, but it is precious and I care for it as much as I care for my own.

And so I know I am waiting for you. But I'm waiting for me too. This open heart that I'm drawn to, it is inside someone who will become my wife one day. And she will know that I love her because I won't be able to do anything else but. Somehow life has made me this way, and I'm just going to go for it.

Until then, here I am.

And there you are.

Finally.

Congratulations To Fringes & Q

They got married a few weeks ago. Yay! It gives me something to post about today!

So when I first discovered Fringes, her boyfriend was a guy who wore flip-flops to her posh family's Thankgiving Dinner, named Q. He drove 650 (a two-way trip) within Texas to go see her on the weekends and make sweet sweet nookie. When I ascertained Q's whiteness through his use of flip-flops, I fell in love with the both of them. It seemed as though this boy fell in love with this girl fo' realz! He disregarded the color line, he disregarded the inner gushings of a blogger who spoke both the bad as vividly as the good, he disregarded (or more better, accepted) her two children, and he disregarded the miles between them.

That is some serious love right there.

And now they are married and he's moved in and they're giving birth in 4.5 months to the next Barack Obama.

Who says the interwebs ain't bringing people together?

A Small Ode

Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were married 50 years.

Joanne and Paul were married on January 29, 1958 in Las Vegas at the Hotel El Rancho Vegas. Paul's wedding gift to Joanne was a silver cup that he had inscribed with the words, "So you wound up with Apollo/If he's sometimes hard to swallow/Use this." -About.com

No, I don't know what it means. But I know what 50 years married means. It means awesome.

Recognize.

You Know, I Don't Believe I Like This At All

My mood from yesterday won't go away. Damn it, I feel so pissy.

Yesterday I put in a call to MFTD to get some phone love in the absence of a good hug. I said to him, "Validate me." He commenced to trying to fix me instead of just freaking hugging me. Then of course he had to hang up so he could go work one of his many jobs, thereby pulling in his three figure salary (combined with his lovely wife's of course) so they can maintain their standard of living in Connecticut by the bay, and he said he'd call me back, but has he? Nooooo.

And why should he--I'm just a whiny, needy little bitch who he's tired of going round and round with on this pathetic little merry-go-round that I call My Redeemable Life.

And am I jealous of him? Hells yes, I'm jealous. I'm jealous of everybody. And I'm so effing mad about that that I feel evil right now. DAMMIT!

I don't like this! I don't like this!!

Shit.

People, pay no attention to the crazy little man in the cage. Enjoy your lives. You deserve to.

I'll be fine eventually. Or not. What the hell ever.

I need an increase in my meds.

Blue As The Sky

Okay, I'm starting the hate having posted the kind of content of yesterday's self-indulgent claptrap. (Not the Mike-stuff...the Alan-stuff). That's just so not the guy I want to be, dammit!

Today, elsewhere on the net, someone made a statement of the melancholy in their life and it spawned the lyrics of a Corinne Bailey Rae song in my head, so I gave him a few lines that specifically pertained to his statement. Even resembled it. And it actually lifted my own spirits. Maybe it's because I spend so much time in fantasyland, but when I thought about Corinne Bailey Rae again, and heard her voice singing, and remembered the crinkle of her eyes when she spreads that child's-joy smile across her face--I was reminded what love feels like. I swear to you, I actually love Corinne Bailey Rae. Okay ... put it this way ... I am blind with infatuation for her. She would be the one person that, if I ever got to meet her, I would be without speech and I'd probably just cry.

So, I just want to post her lyrics again, from my own memory (with a little help from listening to it again).

Three little birds sat on my window
And they told me I don't need to worry.
Summer came in like cinnamon (so sweet)
Little girls double-dutch on the concrete.

Maybe sometimes,
We got it wrong, but it's alright.

The more things seem to change.
The more they stay the same.
Don't you hesitate...

Girl, put your records on,
Tell me your favorite song
Just go ahead let your hair down.
Sapphire and faded jeans
I hope you get your dreams
Just go ahead let your hair down.

You're gonna find yourself some way.
Somehow.

Blue as the sky, somber and lonely,
sipping tea in a bar by the roadside (just relax...just relax)
Don't you let those other boys fool you
Gotta love that afro hairdo.

Maybe sometimes
We feel afraid, but it's alright.

The more you stay the same
The more they seem to change.

Don't you think it's strange?

GIRL! Put your records on!
Tell me your favorite song (YAY!).
You go ahead let your hair down!

Sapphire and favorite jeans!
I hope you'll get your dreams.
Just go ahaead let your hair down!

You're gonna find yourself somewhere ...
Somehow ...

T'was more than I could take
Pity, for pity's sake.
Some nights kept me awake
I thought that I was stronger.

When you gonna realize that you don't even have to try any longer?

DO WHAT YOU WANT TO!!!


GIRL!!!!!! PUT YOUR RECORDS ON!!!!!!!
TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE SONG (BABY!!!)!!!!
YOU GO AHEAD LET YOUR HAIR DOWN!!!!!

SAPPHIRE AND FADED JEANS (WHOOO!)!!!!
I HOPE YOU GET YOUR DREAMS!!!!

JUST GO AHEAD LET YOUR HAIR DOWN!!!

(Baby let your hair down!)
OH put your records on, tell me your favorite song.
Just go ahead let your hair down.
Sapphire and favorite jeans. (Someone's favorite jeans...) I hope you get your dreams.

Just go ahead let your hair down.

You're gonna find yourself somewhere.

Somehow.


And now, bonuses--

Two of my favorite songs done by Corinne and John Legend?!?!!!!


I had NO idea!!!


YouTube Comments for this one (at least I'm not alone);
blitzy16 (4 days ago)
*She has talented and is real.*

Sorry for that )=

blitzy16 (4 days ago)
I heard this song over the radio and I fell in love with her ever since. She id talented and real.

Corinne is so talented/cute that it hurts =)

She is very awesome.

entity3sf (5 days ago)
I just found out about this amazing talent. Awesome.

scsassy123m (1 week ago)
JUST LOVE HER

eu811101 (3 weeks ago)
totally love her and the song is my favorite

kawaii8707 (1 month ago)
well shes sold over 3million albums so she is a successful artist, i think she quite popular. mayb not as much as rihanna or beyonce bt shes nearly there- and shes unique

gr8guy8 (1 month ago) Show Hide
corrine, please marry me!



And here's one I hadn't heard much--I guess she's flying under the radar. Way too low under it. Damn the flash and glitzy music industry.
But you can't tell me this girl doesn't make your heart stutter.

Distracted

I can't focus when I'm at work anymore. Not when it comes to having an internet connection and needing to do reports. I spend about .368 seconds worrying about getting the paperwork done and then I go back to 'netsurfing.

I have so many things to choose from on the internets! There's all the blogs to your left, for instance. Today I found some good stuff over there!

First of all, Mike is going to propose to his girlfriend. This is what he said about her; "B is a great woman and I am lucky to have her. I am happy when I am with her, and miss her when I am not. I am going to propose to her because I want to marry her. And I want to spend my life with her." Siggghhh... he is so fantastic. He came to this conclusion after, and probably still during, the scare of an unplanned pregnancy. It put a rush on his plans while he had expressed his desire to continue to enjoy his singlehood, but ever since his divorce, he'd been hurting for someone to love him again, and when he found B, she was the content of his blog posts. He'd found happiness again. The pregnancy almost made him forget that. But he didn't forget it. He has renamed his blog to "Starting Over Again" and that's what he plans to do. He has the courage to obey his sensitive heart. He is fantastic and I wish him all the love and happiness that his fantastic heart can possibly stand.

Secondly, I'm toiling away on the new spinoff of the audio series I'm doing. It's exciting and an awesome escape from the toils of paperwork and reality. The paperwork, I will eventually get to.

But for reality--not so much.

We admire heroes because they can do things we can't (and they look fantastic doing it). Launching across the sky in a pair of red speedos and pegging a nuclear missile with your face for the sake of the millions of people below--that's the stuff of legend.

But for me? A man who survives his divorce, is sensitive enough to cry for help and accept it, and then recovers enough strength to go back into those waters? And when those waters get rough, to still swim against the currents of fear and doubt to secure new love? To me, this is the equivalent of flight and invulnerability. This is Superman. This is what I am not. It isn't my quirks that I fear being exposed to someone significant. It isn't my geekiness. It's my cowardice.

I have a type of muscular dystrophy in my heart. It is withered and barely beating--weak and barely keeping me alive. Of course, I mean this in the emotional sense. My life support is found online, in all of your words and stories. In your acts of bravery and survival. If I can read, I can live. And too, it's in the lives of my clients. My energy grows for them. I'm made alive by their struggles for life. For them, I can move mountains. And my life support is in my stories--whether I'm writing them for a superhero, or for my friends to interact against the dragon I'm throwing at them, or in the wizard that I become once a week. If I can dream, I can live.

But I cannot act.

I'm too distracted.

Why I Praise

When I was a holy roller, I used to praise God. And I mean hands in the air, face lifted to the ceiling, mouth open, tears-streaming-down praise. Yeah, the kind of praising that makes the average person nervous.

When I go back to church, I will praise like that again. Somehow, it makes me feel good to go out of myself and focus on something else.

But God doesn't need to know from me that He's doing a good job (or not). I've read in His own Bible that if I don't say anything, the rocks will cry out. And that if He had a problem, He wouldn't tell me anyway.

Plus, I'm not in church, in any conventional sense, anymore. I can't seem to let a man tell me how to live anymore. If Christ were here (again) I'd probably do like the apostle John, and just lay my head on his breast all day and all night, and never move from that spot. ("Hey Jesus, what's that you got attached to your robe?" "Just leave him be, Peter. He's had a hard life and he needs this.") But when it comes to hearing from Peter--I'm not so interested. I mean, yeh, Peter, you've got insight and you've hung out with the Christ and walked briefly on the water too, but um, how's about that ear you lopped off? A little hot-headed, aren't we? Come back to me when you can fix it so's you never denied Christ three times. What, no TARDIS handy to go back in time and prevent it? Okay then, we're in the same boat. Hows about neither one of us tell each other how to live, unless I ask you, mmkay?

So who do I praise now? I find I'm easy to criticize and disapprove (see the above anti-Peter rant), but that's just my nasty now roiling around inside like intestinal parasites. They exist and they serve, but what they produce stinks like crap and I'd sooner not acknowledge them at all.

But it's in praise that I feel my ability to love. And love feels good. I've grown up not knowing how to love anyone, really, except The Big Invisible Kahuna In The Sky. Not getting love. Not even being familiar with the roadmarks on the map ever-so-tangientally related to love.

So I praise you. I praise you because you matter. I feel my heart when I see your progress. Your successes. Your triumphs. I praise you because I know how hard it is to be who you are, and how much work it takes to achieve what you have, and how much it hurts when you've had to retreat because of failure. How devastating it is and how much you want to curl up and die when it happens. I praise you because I am you.

And dammit, I praise you because we deserve it.

Some Exemplary Women

Continuing a "give flowers to the living instead of at their funeral" theme that I've adopted, I'd like to point your attention to a trio of women that moved me this week.

First, Vi. She'd accomplished this before I'd ever 'met' her, and there's a chance that you will miss the actual pictures by the time you read this post, but Vi is the only person I actually communicate with who lost what looks like half her bodyweight and is keeping it off. Not only this, but she used her success to create a weightloss consultation business and is helping others lose their weight as well. This she has done, and is doing, while raising two sons as a single mother. Meanwhile, her energy keeps her blog one of the most vital and active journals of a vibrant and vivacious life that's I've ever read. Before I'd started reading her regularly, Vi suffered the devasting loss of a cherished boyfriend to suicide. I wasn't there when she struggled past what I think would be guilt, depression, loss, and grief unimaginable. But when I 'met' her, she was recovering. Some days high and some days brought low. A few weeks ago, on the year's anniversary of his death, Vi and others planned a celebration of his life, complete with pictures. Now that is some recovery fo' yo' ass. That is what grief recovery looks like, ladies and gentlemen. Vi is an amazing woman and I'm glad to 'know' her.

Second and Thirdly, Fringes and her daughter Jordan. I haven't 'known' fringes that long, but I'm always knocked out by her writing. Her mind is like a steel trap and her use of language is like a massage for the mind. When I hopped onboard her blog, she had already joined with the love of her life, Q, who recognized how amazing she is through her solo blog and makes a 650 mile trip every week to be with her. I also learned that she is raising two kids as well. One of them is a 13 year-old daughter who suffered a brain injury (again way back before I knew anything about her). But recently, Fringes lobbied the doctors to perform a spinal surgery on her daughter that has brought about an improvement in Jordan which, in being described, brought me to tears. You see, in my day job, I work with the developmentally disabled and whereas I never thought I would, I find I adore this population and I work for them to have the best standard of living they can achieve. And that's what Fringes has done for her daughter. It's an example that I'll add to everything I do. But what especially touches me is that Fringes describes a battle with depression that she herself goes through periodically. So how amazing is it, that while she goes through her own struggle, she also has the strength to be a single mom, a working woman, an intelligent and amazing writer, and Jordan's biggest and best advocate? Now that is a mother's love fo' yo' ass!

The world is full of amazing people and it's so rare that we get a chance to actually meet any of them, however briefly or through whatever means. It's my honor to treat you to three more of them.

Oh, and before I go, I can't help but shout out my blogfriend Grizzbabe. Let it be known, high and wide, that I am fully aware that Grizzbabe gots a man.

Okay?

Okay.

But if I found another woman like her, who had the spiritual sensibilities as Grizzbabe, the open and welcoming heart like Grizz, the lyrical intelligence that Grizz uses in her blog, and the willingness to uplift and encourage a brother with words of healing and compassion that Grizz has -- I think my life would be complete. Thank you Grizz, for stopping by and taking an interest in This Redeemable Life.

Here's To Love ...

Through my comicbook hobby, I met a podcaster who won my heart today with his blog entry about his 5th year anniversary. I wanted to share it with you. He doesn't know that I blog, and I haven't told him about it because of all the Stuff I spill about me here. I just want to be a listener who gives him and his wife some well-earned support.

So, here's to love, and here's one of the funniest podcasts they've done to date (The links take you to The Comics Forums, where there are links to the blog entry and podcast).

The Default

Grizz, this started as a Comment reply, but how I do go on. So here's a new post.

"Default" does mean being alone. Yet thanks to the internet and friends that I have in person, I'm not really ALONE alone.

and gosh, your analogy is perfect. You got a good sense. This is a marathon.

You know, when I really am running, the music in my headphones keeps me going until I reach my goal. It even gives me energy. My body syncopates to the rythym and I'm golden. In the life-marathon analogy, the music I use equates to all the activities that I mentioned. D&D, audio production, eating good food, real music, NYC ... They're amusements that I need to keep me 'running the race'.

But I can listen to music and not run too. lol. I could listen to music and just ... dance, I suppose. Dance in place.

And why would I stop running? Only, I guess, if I didn't want to go across the finish line anymore. If the prize was no longer worth the struggle of racing.

Here's the real deal. The really real. I don't know what the prize actually is. I don't really know what is happening to you guys when you all get these husbands and wives and children and things. I don't really know. I see from everyone's blogs that there is happiness involved, as well as some pain and some frustration and heartache. I see all that. Aand I have a passion to see people be in successful significant relationships because it looks all so very nice. I can imagine that it is, when it works.

But I don't know what it feels like. I've never had it. And what you never had, you can't miss, right? Heh.

But it's like the concept of Heaven for me. I've never been there, but I sure would like to go. And yet, when religions tell me how to go, and what I have to do in order to qualify for my spot there, sometimes I feel like following the instructions -- and sometimes following the instructions are a royal pain in the ass. And also sometimes, there's a possibility that there isn't really any Heaven at all and I'm wasting time trying to qualify when I should be just enjoying the little bit of life I have left here.

And around and around it goes. Heaven, love, it's all the same thing. I've had glimpses of these things, and like Fox Mulder, I want to believe. And that really is just where I'm at right now.

Sensitive, Part II

And now I learn that I can forgive.

Being sensitive also means that I want to restore the relationship. I want to feel good again, and I want the other person to feel good again too.

I've learned that I can trust again.

I've learned that being hurt doesn't destroy me.

This is good. So, so very good.

Because that woman in my future is not going to be perfect. She will slip up and hurt me, at times. And I will do the same to her. And I've been running away from that thought. It's been terrifying.

But I now have been shown a glimpse of how it's really supposed to work. You work through it. You don't give up. You bear the pain. You hash it out. You be honest. You stay open.

You reach an understanding.

You forgive each other.

You forgive yourself.

You keep loving.

I can do that.

Time To Review

(Originally August 11, 2005)

I went to church this past Sunday, the 7th, as I said I would. All the Sunday content below (the audio, for instance) occurred after I left church. In retrospect, I'm surprised at how much time I had left in the day after I'd 1) Worked at Starb's and 2) went to church.

The sermon was by a guy who was either David Wilkerson's son or nephew. He was a strange looking fellow. He had 70's hair, a pin-striped brown suit that was wrinkled by the places his bodyweight bulged when he sat down, and a bright blue tie. I saw him as an "edgy youth-pastor" trying to make a statement that says, "Hey, I'm not stodgy and old-fashioned! I'm hip and now! I'm with-it, young people! So you can listen to my sermons!"

Yes, I am harsh with my perceptions. I have an extremely critical inner voice. (You should hear what it says about ME. Oh, wait, you have--haven't you?) This does not mean, however, that I dislike the people I observe.

And this guy's sermon was a mixture of scripture and psychology that made me fight my way from the balcony to the altar at the conclusion. It was all about getting free and staying free. Preachers fight the clock their whole sermon--I know this because I've done it on serveral occasions myself. Yeah, preached. YES. I've been a preacher! Did I not make that clear in the last blog? Heehee. That's why I started a new one. Anyway, preachers want to structure the sermon with an opener, the setup, the content, and the conclusion. This Sunday I noticed the preacher doing all well, except the conclusion. It was a bit rushed and made me worry if others were getting it, but in the end, I understood it for myself and responded.

The sermon suggested that mankind is created with inherent desires that are not wrong to have, such as Adam's desire for more social company than just the animals. And God agreed that his lone state was "not good". (Strange, right? God made Adam as a solitary being, then said it wasn't good. So God said that something he Himself made was NOT good. Meaning what? He admitted He's fallible? Or that He wasn't content with His creation process? And after the whole Old Testament, He still wasn't content, hence; Jesus. And still NOW He's not content, hence; The Holy Ghost. See how preachers digress and fight for sermon time and structure?) So God made Eve for Adam. And then the Man and Woman continued to have desires for more, and took up the Serpent's challenge to nibble the Forbidden Fruit (which I do NOT agree was sex. God made the penis and vagina for sex--else He would've made two neutral creatures which had no genitalia).

The moral of that story is that mankind can and should have desires, but they shouldn't try to satisy them based on lies. So;
1) Adam desiring an Eve was good because God condoned it, but
2) Adam desiring to taste of the Tree to obtain more knowledge was bad because Satan condoned it.

And in the ratrace of us today trying to satisfy our desires, we should base our pursuits on truths, not lies. For instance;

Trying to pursue riches based on inner feelings of inadequacy and sense of worth is a lie. For that matter you can fill in the blank;

"Trying to ___________________________ based on inner feelings of inadequacies and sense of worth is a lie."

And that was basically the sermon. The conclusion fell short on demonstrating exactly how to correct our inner feelings of inadequacies, but I was able to pick it up from there, because...well, you know. I'm all insightful and self-analytical, bloggy and professionally a counselor and whatnot.

And for me, the answer became a matter of realizing myself as a child of God. Just like last week when I felt that God was correcting the lies I had told myself about how to become His child? I had built up a stockpile of qualifications that I thought I needed to accomplish before I felt "right" about going back to church.

As most people have a stockpile of qualifications that they feel they need to accomplish before they feel like they are "happy" or "adult" or "loved". And then they/we go about spending money, time, and emotions to obtain the things it will take to get us "qualified". Plastic surgeries, new cars, high-rise luxury apartments, grande vanilla soy lattes, pashminas, Jimmy Chu shoes (is there such a thing?), sex, more sex, gold pocket watch, career job, and on and on. And we run ourselves ragged. And we get one thing only to discover that it wasn't enough, so now we want something else because maybe THAT will be the answer. Which of course, it isn't.

The answer is in ourselves. Killing all the lies that make us doubt what we are really supposed to be. We're really supposed to be intrinsically worthy of love and life because of who made us, and how HE feels about us. We can't even set this up with an analogy about how human parents care for their children because human parents' love is suspect (Do they just want to carry on the family name? Do they want to show their peers what a good person they are by dressing their kids in good clothes and sending them off to the best colleges and buying them the best cars?). But in God's love, we have a Deity who needs not brag to anyone else about what He feels for us. He doesn't have anything to gain or lose by telling us that He loves us and wants the best for us. We can just trust his motives because nothing is ulterior for Him.

And if He says I'm worthy of love, then damn Satan--I'm WORTHY. I can work in a Starbucks for the rest of my life and still be worthy of love. I might never have a car again. I might have a fat belly for the rest of my life. My teeth might never get corrected and they may just gap until I can pass a pencil through them, clenched. I might have to live in Paramus in the bottom of a crazy guy's house for a year or two!

But

I.

AM.

WORTHY.

So you "get free and stay free" by correcting the inner lies that drive us, and living what is true. That process will allow us the freedom and peace we're all looking for.

I see that this is what prayer is. I can re-affirm that truth as I pray daily. I can 'claim' the truth as I pray. "Thank you for another day, Lord. I am happy to be Your child again. I am happy to know You love me. It feels good to be loved. And I love You too, for making me, and taking care of me. I have nothing to fear when I know You love me. My life is complete in Your love. I really don't need anything else, except what You want to give me."