Tales of a Female Nomad

I just started reading Tales of a Female Nomad by Rita Golden Gelman (thanks, Dave!) who, "at the age of forty eight, on the verge of a divorce, [I] looked around and thought, There has to be more than one way to do life. "

I've only read the first chapter, but wow! She and her husband decided to take a two month break and she decides to go to Mexico for that time, a place she had always wanted to visit. The biggest fear she has at this moment in the book is eating alone in a restaurant, yet she's fine living in Mexico for two months and deciding to find a tribe to immerse herself in. She is amazing and brave and I can't wait to immerse myself in this book.

Reminds me of my cousin, Heather, who after a bit of school, decided to leave for Europe. I'm not sure how long she's been there - over a year I'm sure. She was living in a cave in the side of a mountain near Grenada, Spain and is now living in Barcelona. How fearless and exciting! What an adventure. She was performing on stilts and blowing huge bubbles in the streets and living life so bravely...

Can't wait to get back into the book tonight.... :)

Only in New Jersey

While D & I were outside at a little party, we overheard a guy on his cell phone explaining to his friend where he was: “You know, it’s over by Chemical Pond where we used to fish.”

Chemical Pond. Nice. Definitely would only hear that in New Jersey...

I seriously can’t wait to get out of this state. Three good things though - food, Delaware Water Gap area, and it's oh so close to NYC.

I turned 31 this weekend. There’s something surreal about the numbers surpassing 30. Something in the area of “now what?”. I guess I’ve always hated my birthday and getting older and 31. I guess I thought things would be different when I turned 31, but I feel the changes for the better occurring so I think that it’s a good year for big transitions and explorations and scary stuff and fun stuff and I’m definitely excited about all of that.

I had a great weekend which made the age factor fade into the background for the most part; until last night. First of all, it was Sunday – often not a good evening – especially before a full work week – yes, folks – FIVE full days of work this week! Rough life. Can’t wait to work from home and just create things and wear overalls and nap if necessary and have light streaming into my space (as opposed to the evil dreaded fluorescent lights that shine on way too many of us each day). {Supposedly, fluorescent lights are much more environmentally responsible – I’m not sure if that means any ol’ fluorescent light, but still…. That’s just sad}. Back to that idea of working from home – maybe a little part time job to get out of the house but for the most part ignoring meetings and clocks and dress codes and small talk and memos. That is – until I start my own little business of beading, books, and coffee…(perhaps beer too). But I promise not to write memos when I have that business.

But the rest of the weekend, good food (and awesome interior ) and lots of friends, though I do wish I had some pictures of the night. Once I do enough freelance to buy myself a digital SLR camera the photos will resume. Until then, at least I have some motivation for freelancing. Fun party on Saturday, beat the boys in Texas Hold ‘Em and had some beer and played trivia on Saturday night! Not to mention a fun late night walk home with lots of laughs.

Off to work out (which I have been slacking at way too much lately). Which to do is the question today? Karen , Rodney, or Cameron ? I miss my five-days a week workouts but I just haven’t had the time. I’ll get back there one day soon – you know, when I’m working from home and have that liberty and luxury.

One last thing, where the heck is the snow? Rain in late January is just crazy. And people still say that global warming doesn’t exist, huh?

More later. Time to get out of here!

We are all one

Check out the wombat on the Foundation for Global Community website. Cool shite. :)
We are all one. In this and on this together...
~Peace.

Education is...

Thought for the day

I’m part of a program working with kids and it baffles my mind how kids can go through the system and end up in high school with tons of problems that teacher upon teacher and administrator upon administrator have chosen to blatantly ignore. Why? I know there are plenty of teachers who care and who care a lot so where does the main aspect of this problem lie? It really makes me consider teaching…. Where are the teachers who change the system and who get things done? Are there just not enough of them out there?

Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they are capable of being.
~Goethe

Quotatious

Sorry for the recent laziness in my posts, but I haven't had much downtime lately. I need my blog time!! :)
For today, just some cool quotes my brother sent my way:

"America is at that awkward stage; it's too late to work within the system, but too early to shoot the bastards."
- Claire Wolfe

"Take away the right to say 'fuck' and you take away the right to say 'fuck the government.'"
- Lenny Bruce

Sing it, Neal!

A quote for the self-centeredness in all....okay, most, of us.
Especially us bloggers!

Rather, I think one should write, as nearly as possible, as if he were the first person on earth and was humbly and sincerly putting on paper that which he saw and experienced and loved and lost; what his passing thoughts were and his sorrows and desires.
-Neal Cassady

Frida Kahlo wonderfulness

I've been flipping through and skimming, but plan on immersing myself in shortly, The Diary of Frida Kahlo, An Intimate Portrait". It has text followed by pages and pages from her journal. The translations of each page are found at the back of the book. There are such amazing words and thoughts and sketches in her journals. There was so much pain in her life but also so much passion and love and inspiration. I'll have more to say after I read more.

Above is "Yo soy la desintegración", or I am the disintegration. One of my favorites in the book...

ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: Flavor

"I like your flavor," he said, finally getting up the courage to talk to her after months of agony. "Thanks," she responded, a blush forming on her cheeks. The story starts here.

Gloaming magic

I’m watching the gloaming through my window as I sit at my desk wishing I was outside to watch the golden pale sunlight cast beautiful shadows on everything it touches. Sometimes it looks like glitter flickering on leaves and sidewalks and grass. I think it’s the most beautiful time of the day – the time between sunlight and dark – when the light is walking the line and holding hands with the darkness. It possesses a magical quality; short lived and rare – a glow that makes us stop and take notice and be in that moment for as long as the moment will take hold of us.

I wish I could curl up and sleep for a while and I wish that when I woke up everything would be solved, resolved, figured out and answered. My heart hurts and I feel like I don’t have enough to give. Either that or I just give it in all the wrong ways. Things are ending and I want to skip that part and get to the new beginnings. The fun exciting part.

The pit is back with a vengeance. It felt like it would tear me in two when I woke from dreaming this morning. I didn’t remember my dreams. I told myself last night before my eyes closed, remember your dreams tomorrow, they may be trying to tell you something or give you answers. But I don’t remember even a glimpse of one. I wonder if it’s true that our dreams are the parts of us that we choose to ignore during the day – the parts we are too scared to face in waking life. Or are they, as I discussed with someone recently, another us – a sort of parallel us – that lives fully in our “dreamworld”. Are they a parallel us living a whole other life where dragons really exist and we can fly and colors are different? Maybe when we dream it’s just us mingling with them – dipping quickly into their plane or dimension of existence. Do they dream and think of how weird our world seems? How magical our daily existence seems?

Dreams keep us going but what happens when the hope starts to fade and our faith starts to hide in the background? What happens when the mistakes seem more and more than the great moments of goodness.

I’ll just throw the questions to the gloaming and maybe they’ll be answered in the magical darkness of my dreams.

Love is

"...Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall And a preserving sweet."
-William Shakespeare