About Me

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Photographer, writer, artist, human-being... I'm just a girl at heart, with dreams and hopes of something beautiful and grand for the future. I'll rant and fuss, tell stories and entertain... but I'll never be a bore. Promise. ;)

Friday, September 2, 2011

things I am grateful for...

just a few things I am very thankful for...

not being a douche pretending to be a friend
not being a bully who takes advantage of others
not being a liar who claims to be a good Christian but is a backstabbing Judas instead

having a brain and being able to use it
for being attractive without makeup or fancy hair dos
for having a tiny, svelte form that still fits into a size 0
for three AMAZING children
for the strength of my ancestors
for the strength of my convictions
for being a GOOD person (despite what some may think or say)
for being able to prove to one and all that, *gasp* I CAN make it on my own in the 'big City'
for having talent

for being able to put the needs and cares of others before my own
for having the support and love of GOOD friends
for having a loving family

yes...I have many things to be thankful for.

blessings to the good hearted.  For the rest... watch out... Karma will have it's way with you eventually.  ;)


Friday, July 1, 2011

honestly?

you know that stupid trust game they made kids play in school?  The one where you cross your arms over your chest and fall backwards with eyes closed... hoping the person behind you will catch you before you fall?

so much for trust in anyone

i'm done, i'm out

Thursday, June 30, 2011

on feeling... improved

today i feel improved.

I was calm.  I was collected.  The ex was, thankfully, lucid.  The children get to come home this weekend.  It means more expense and a tighter budget, but I'm glad to have them on their way soon.  I've missed them so much.

then there was the visit to see my chiropractor.  Amazing stuff that.  He was surprised to find that I am healing faster than he'd expected.  :)  So proud of this I am.  I've been following the exercises I've been given and have worked hard to avoid some of the bad habits I've fallen into (crossing my legs for hours on end while I sit at my desk, leaning on one elbow, etc).  Funny thing is...I feel taller.  How weird.

so...as a reward... I write a tiny bit and then move on to Dim Sum and a Fat Tire.  *nod*  I deserve a little treat.

...maybe I'll even wrangle in some artwork tonight.  I need to draw... my hands ache to hold a pencil and put it to paper...

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

screw it

...I'm driving down there and bringing 'em all back.  I hate to cheat the ex out of his time with the little ones, but... the children need stability in their lives... not their own private cuckoos nest.


GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

furious

so today... I rant.

I think that I am a pretty kind and forgiving person.  I feel that there is no one perfect, me least of all.  Raised by a woman who is, in my opinion, one of the best human beings I know... my mom.  I have followed the few rules of life she passed on to me:

Treat others the way you want to be treated.

Be honest.

don't judge others.

That's what I've tried to do.  Those are the core tenants of WHO I am.


That being said, I didn't follow any of these tenants when my ex kicked me out of our house so that he could move in his 19 year old girlfriend.  Baby-sitter-homewrecker indeed ($1 to Rich Skare)  I was FURIOUS with that man.  He let his mental illness turn him into a monster, manipulated and controlled me for years, and then gave me the boot because I was no longer young enough or pretty enough... and because I had finally grown a bit of my backbone back and was standing up to his crazy demands and tirades.     I was a hard nosed little shit of an ex-wife (or so I was told by his now ex-baby-sitter-homewrecker).

What did I do you ask?  Well, I expected him to pay his FULL share of child support...which he has never done.  There's always some excuse, he MUST follow his dreams... but never does he evidence enough suck-uppedness to just go and get a normal job and actually support his children in a manner which I feel they are more than deserving of.   I asked that he pay half of the cost of child support when our youngest had to be in paid day care... he refused.  He's never helped pay for the kids medical expenses, though there are promises of such.  And, while he IS finally paying his 'share' of child support on a regular basis... he only pays 1/4 of what most men pay to their ex-wives in form of child support.

But... I am not an awful bitch at heart, contrary to the belief some other might hold.  It was important to give the children a civil relationship between us so that they can know their dad as something other than the ogre who destroyed their mom's hopes and dreams.  (he really did destroy those... our marriage was a very, very precious thing to me and I sacrificed my bloody sanity and the mental well being of our children trying to "do the right thing" and stay in what was ultimately, a lost cause.   Over the past few years we have managed a civil friendship, and the children get to enjoy their summers with their father...

until this summer.

I must digress back in time to make this clear...  a couple years ago, the ex was taken to the hospital where he nearly died.  He had been drinking heavily and his body almost gave out.  He was told at that time that he needed to stop drinking.  He did.  He also announced to me around the same time that the ER doc mentioned that he MIGHT have DID.  This made one eyebrow on my face do the Spock thing.  In the past few months, when speaking to the ex on the phone... he has sounded drunk.  With him for 20 years... I know what the man sounds like when he's drunk.  He's a damn fool when he's drunk.  I called him on it... and he lied to me, stating he didn't drink, wasn't drinking...  Well... he HAS been.

I week or so back, he got drunk.  He got crazy.  My eldest and her nonnie (who lives with my ex) had to call 911 and have his ass carted off the ER.  I'd just sent them down for the summer and the ER drama has begun.  Joy.  Even better, after he is returned home, I am informed by the ex that he is on some sort of heavy drug to help him resist the alcohol AND he informs me again that the ER doc thinks he has DID.  (my understanding is that DID has to be diagnosed by a Psychiatrist/Psychologist after a course of counselling to determine if the person REALLY has DID or some other psychological issues in play)  Read the article I linked to... in every other country of the world EXCEPT the United States, DID diagnosis are quite low.   They are insanely high here.

Anyway... according to my eldest, this "alternate" personality hates her.  It has resulted in her being yelled and and made to feel really low about herself... and as a 15 year old, she's dealing with enough of THAT already. But last night was it.  Before going to bed... the ex tells my eldest that she's not being "her" any more, she's a depressive piece of shit.

WHAT THE F(#*?!?!?!?     I may have a sharp tongue and swear like a pirate when I'm upset... but I do NOT tell the children things which would negatively impact their self worth or mental health.  I don't get paid till Friday, and funds are tight... but Gosh darn it all... I am flying the eldest back home just as soon as I can get the scratch together to do so.

Grrr.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

today

was amazing.  Truly.  on all fronts.   Might feel inclined to write about it later... right now... Farscape.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

on writing and on observation

on writing:

I realized tonight, while sitting down to eat my Dim Sum and enjoy the Sorcerer's Apprentice (so sue me... I like kids movies.  I AM a mom after-all, with, you know.... kids)...again, that I had to write.  Immediately.  The idea came and I knew without a doubt that my thought was something to write about.  Specifically, in my blog.  So...here is me politely ignoring my beautiful Dim Sum and pork fried rice in order to do what my create muse insists must be done... write.

on observation:

have you ever watched a movie and really paid attention to that somewhat dismiss-able sidekick to the main character?  They're always the person quietly sitting off to the side who notices, usually with a very significant look, that important things are going on in the actions and conversations of the main character and whomever the main character's attention is directed towards?  (did you also notice that I assigned NO gender in that statement?  *preens*)  That's who I am...the quiet observer.  Okay, truth be told... I'm not that quiet.  I squeak when I'm surprised, I snort when I laugh to hard (and squeak), I swear when I'm upset, and I love to just ramble on about absolutely nothing in particular.  (like right now).  But I AM an observer, a very astute one.  I've also got amazing hearing.

Now, you'd think that this would be a great gift to have, right?  In a lot of cases... it is.  I pick up on a lot of little details that others miss.  I've been told I'm intuitive.  I'm not... I just see (and hear) what's going on around me.  Maybe I learned something reading all of those Sherlock Holmes stories when I was a kid.  Or all of the Nancy Drew books.  Maybe I just have a knack for stashing away details.

But sometimes... sometimes it's REALLY not a good thing.

You see, sometimes, you pick up on the small details and start matching up actions to words and realize that you are the person who has been betrayed.  You realize that promises made are not going to be kept.  You discover that, despite protestations to the contrary, that your giving nature has been taken advantage of.  

Being observant and paying attention to the details is what told me that something was going on with my ex-husband just before we split up.  I was not surprised in the least when he asked me to move out, I was prepared and ready actually and a rudimentary battle plan (where I'd go, what I'd take with me, etc) formulated in my mind.   But, it didn't stave off the dramatic hurt that accompanied our splitting up.  I'd spent 15 years working hard at being a good and loyal wife and mother and got tossed aside for a child.  One that turned out to be a rather lowly and despicable person too.

Being observant has more than once led me to overhear friends speaking in ways that... maybe friends shouldn't around other friends.  Fortunately, I have some VERY good friends who are able to recognize when they have stuck the proverbial foot in mouth.  I had one such interaction very recently and was abashed when I thought my friends discussing an issue of mine, and their agreement that they wanted none of it.  I was even more abashed when they directly told me I could not speak of what I wanted... though grateful at least they were upfront and honest enough to say something directly.   But I still broke down in tears... because when your closest friends and source of support all agree to shut you off... well that's a pretty  not cool place to be.  Not at all.  I wasn't dramatic... just quiet tears of disappointment and rejection.  Again.  But this particular occasion was different (one of the only times this has happened, but I chalk it up to the character of the people I call my friends these days) ... they recognized my unhappiness and wanted to know what was wrong.  I put myself together and said nothing, asked that the conversation move along.  I'd been told to keep my mouth shut, and out of politeness to that request I was complying.  But my friends are astute.  They realized how what they had said came across and saw how hurt I was, and they cared.  Apologies were made, as were jokes and soon, laughter and beer were flowing freely once more.    But that is because they are all good people who have the moral fortitude to stand up and say "hey, that wasn't so cool, I'm sorry.  Look... I have my faults too."

GOOD people.

Please don't let me lead you into thinking that this is just a grand bitch-fest about how awful it is to notice what's going on around me.  I'm certainly not.  Despite the disappointments that have accompanied many of my observations, I am thankful that I observed what I did.  It's kept me safe.

I heard an article on NPR recently regarding trusting one's instincts.  A panel of Psychologists and other learned folk were discussing the whole concept of trusting one's instincts.  All agreed that there is more than a little to doing so.  The subconscious is always processing and picking up details that we never consciously register.  But regardless of how dense we are consciously, our subconscious knows all and sees all.  And it tells us all, if we're willing to listen to our intuition and go with that wild hunch.

I'm grateful that I've got this observant streak.  It's helped me keep my heart safe over the course of time.  My ex-husband has told me again and again, that I'm too nice, and WAAAY too trusting.  He's right, I am.  But, I've learned... oh how I have learned, from my experiences with observation and the consequences of not trusting my inner instincts.

It's a nice thing, knowing that I am observant, that I can and will pick up on the tiny details and be able to regurgitate them back should I ever need to.  It's great knowing that I have a very eidetic memory.  In fact, it's a great gift.  Okay, so it took me a bit of time to realize what a gift I had, and to learn how to use it to my advantage.

But now that I know it's there... I'll be putting it to good use.  You can count on that.


peace out world, my dreams await.


Monday, June 13, 2011

why is it...

that when my children are sick... I am there to see to their needs.   why is it that I spent countless hours in ER's with my ex-husband...

and now, when I'm really sick... there's no one here to help.

mother theresa was right to minister to those who had no one else to care for them.  Being alone is bad enough... being sick and alone is even worse.

blaaaarg

I'm sick.  I've been sick for almost two weeks now.  Initially... I had the flu.  There's no mistaking the aches and the crazy ass freezing/fever burning that goes on when one has the flu.  Fortunately... I got sick on a Friday, and spent the bulk of my weekend sick as a dog.

Did I rest?  ... not enough most likely.  I had a big art contract to get busy on and several critical projects at work.  So, I propped myself up in front of the TV with lots of glasses of liquid and worked.  My neighbors, afraid of my germs, at least popped by morning and evening to make sure I didn't need anything and to bring me small plates of food to nibble on.  And that's all I did..nibble.  That's all I'm STILL doing... the nibbling.  Everything still tastes a bit funny and I just don't feel the urge to eat.

But it's the cough that's really killin' me.  Prone to Bronchitis since I was pregnant with my son, I catch it as soon as I catch anything else.   Tiny cold gets extended into at least 3-4 weeks of coughing and creeping out everyone in the office (I work with a large population of germophobes).

yay rah.

-_-

so now that I read the thermometer and it tells me that I'm back up to a 100.8 degree fever...  going to drag myself (literally) to the stove long enough to heat up some soup...then collapse in my bed with the goggie and the kitten.  I've completed and billed the art contract and don't have any more big contracts lined up yet.

YET.

so I'm off to try and get better.

*really wishing one could download hot steamy soup off the interwebz*

a couple of things

I'm not feeling all that creative in terms of writing today... so here are just a couple of things that have been on my mind...

My latest art contract is proving to be quite lucrative...  it's really fun work and I seem to have more than a knack for digital re-design.  Keeping my fingers crossed that this is the start of really great things.

The other 'thing' is a scooby doo mystery of sorts.  Recently, I visited one of my old online haunts.  A friend had told me I must, for there were show recordings to see.  Strangely though, my password didn't work and I couldn't access the site.  It was quite frustrating, I KNEW what my password was, but it wouldn't work.  Weird.  After a couple of weeks of hitting the password reset request button and receiving no password reset emails, I finally talked to a friend who had administrative rights at the site.  Being the true champ that she is... she reset the darn thing for me.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my newly reset password, of which I had been quite careful to make note, no longer worked again a week later.  It was laughable really.  Password reset requests again went unanswered.  But then the REALLY weird part happened.  While visiting my neighbor, also a past member of the same organization, I mentioned my little mystery.

"You too?"  was the response.

I sat there for a moment... stunned.  Someone else had the same bizarre experience I was having?  I queried further.   Was he sure of the password?  Had he attempted password retrieval.  He had done likewise and experienced the same as I had.  I can understand why *I* might be on someone's poo of the week list as I have a way of blurting out exactly what I think.  But my friend?  no WAY.  There's never been a more friendly helpful person that I've ever met.  

Even more mysterious... friend who is currently involved with the group didn't seem the least bit surprised when I approached him with my quandary.  In fact, his comment of, "I was afraid of this."  really made my little antennae start to twitch.   One username and password later... I was finally able to view the recording my friend had wanted me to see.  But, the mystery still remains.   The message is pretty clear though, so I guess I take that particular non-profit off of my charitable donations list.

Friday, June 10, 2011

I forgot to wear my hat...

First, understand that I LIKE hats.  I've been wearing hats for as long as I can remember.  I grew up in the vineyards just outside of Lodi, CA in a little place called Acampo.  We had a postage stamp sized farm because my mother, raised on a working ranch as a girl could not leave her 'country-girl' roots behind.  On the one to two acres that made up the property there were various fruit trees, vegetable gardens, a HUGE strawberry patch, a chicken coop, a bird aviary, and the pasture.  The house wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either.  It was, really, perfect.  Idyllic I daresay.

I spent my summers and free time playing in the vineyards with my brother and mates from the ranch just down the road from our place.  (we could see their horses across the vineyard that separated our properties).  This meant I spent a lot of time outside playing baseball and the boy's favorite, War.  You needed a hat.  So, like the rest of the children I played with, I wore a baseball hat.  I gave up baseball hats for a while in the 80's, when other more fashionable hats caught my eye.  But I still wore my hats.  And after a time, went back to them.

I always have at least two of them tucked away... usually a few more than that.  I have three in rotation right now.  :)   And usually, especially since my hair has been going through one of those awkward, in-between stages, I wear one of my baseball hats.

...today I forgot.

It might not seem like such a big thing.  Some might even argue that, well, I look much better without a hat on, especially a boyish baseball hat.  Honestly though, it's only convention that makes them 'boyish'.  They're a highly functional hat in terms of design.  I love 'em.  When I have a migraine, my baseball hat offers protection from the light.  When it's windy my hat keeps my hair from getting all in my face and mussed about.   It keeps the wet off of my glasses.  ...and I can hide behind them.

I mentioned to a friend recently that I have a knack for actually seeing what's going on around me.  (okay, I'm a little nearsighted in some aspects of my life, but that's a story for another day)  If you've known me long enough, you'll have picked up on how often I have dark shades on.  I wear them a lot.  Hide behind them.  I'm more introverted than folks think really and often observe what's going on around me carefully.  The hat offers protection in the same manner the glasses do... putting up a tiny little barrier between myself and the world.  I become anonymous in hat and glasses and vanish easily into the crowd.  Makes sense that I'd find comfort standing behind a camera.  ;)  The photographer is the invisible artist.  Our art lives and breathes through our eyes and what we 'see'.

So...knowing ALL of this....   I forgot my hat today.

I can't hide.

thank goodness my hair is reaching a non-awkward state and is almost acceptable today.  thank goodness my skin is hydrated and pink and flawless.  I may no longer have the face of a sixteen year old, but I certainly don't look my years either.  I've no grey hair.  My eyes are bright and clear, and I'm told that I have a pretty face.  All in all, nothing to really worry about hiding.  But I don't like not having my hat.

I want my hat dangit.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

remind me...

WHY am I doing this again?    *crickets*

Girl Friday

One of the little perks of my current employment is getting to choose our own job titles.  My boss does not stand on convention and lets us put our own titles to our jobs, which often warrant that each employee wear many different 'hats'.   When I applied for my position with DG, I noticed that the job description was a bit wide ranging.  Having not received much in the way of positive responses to my very professional cover letters, I decided (with much encouragement from my BF) to do something different.  I went out on a limb and wrote something wacky, stating that my future employer sounded like he was a man in search of a Girl Friday... and I was that girl.

And that's who I am.  While I tell folks I'm the graphic artist and product photographer... I do so much more than just that.  Yes, I create the advertisements and take the pretty pictures.  I also create and manage all of the forms our company uses.  I maintain and administrate the website and webstore.  I troubleshoot all of the IT issues in the office.  I AM IT in the office.  o.O  I interact with all levels of sales and marketing folks.  I prepare all of our marketing and sales materials for print, including being on the up and up as to pre-press procedures.   It's a great gig and definitely keeps me on my toes.

It's also a job that's not without it's frustrations.  Wrangling with SAP and Crystal reports has been nothing short of a colossal mountain to climb.  ...but we're gettin there!.

The past few business days though... have been frustrating for me as a graphic designer.  The company producing our of our containers produced a mock of the product that was WAY off base from how it SHOULD appear.  I re-sent them the screens for the bottles and the art files for the labels.  then I get an email from their staff stating they need the fonts.  My feelers start to twitch.  I've learned that most folks in the pre-press process don't need the fonts... they need 'em outlined.  I start to wonder... do the folks at the company producing our product actually KNOW what they are doing?  

I send the fonts.

I get yet another email from L* asking of the fonts.  The files aren't updating.

Now my feelers are in FULL twitch.  What's this guy ON about.  Doesn't he KNOW to just put the font file into his common files folder inside the Adobe folder inside the Programs Folder on his C:drive?  How can he NOT know this if he is using Adobe Illustrator... this is Adobe 101 here.

I respond with yet another copy of the fonts and explain where to place them in the C:drive so that the files will automatically update when L* opens them on his end.

Today, I received another email from L*, thanking me for helping him to understand.  Turns out... the poor dear is a hobbyist with Illustrator and manages the production line for the company producing our containers. He's had no formal training (Illustrator can be a BEAST until you've learned the ropes and a trick or two) and honestly didn't know how to update the fonts within it.  But now he does, and I taught him how.

Girl Friday indeed.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

something to do...

I NEED to do something.  I need to move my butt away from the monitor and DO something creative and inspiring.


I could work on my contract's designs...but I'm saving those for the weekends when I can fully concentrate.

I could work on the novel.  ...but I'm still not ready.  Gaia's not ready.  the muses aren't ready.  We all need a little bit more healing time before we're ready to venture out and share the stories once more.   :(

I SHOULD work on some drawings that are owed folks...

but I don't want to move.



My brain feels as if it were made of oatmeal.  I've been sick, according to my manager, Aline, since last Thursday.  I've been REALLY sick since Saturday.  I am, according to said manager, under orders to work from home tomorrow should my lungs NOT be any better.  But I don't WANT to stay home.  I just managed a huge breakthrough with the new software I'm learning to use at work and I don't want to lose my  momentum.  That I managed to completely construct two working sales reports today was HUGE.  But after all that sheer genius... I'm tired.  My lungs kind of hurt and I swear that my current body mass is made up more of snot than anything else.

seriously.

But I am feeling better than I was and I'm not so inclined to pursue my absolute favorite mind numbing pastime of gaming tonight, so I must find some way of productively using my time.  I am supposed to be an artist after all.

that being said... here's me off to draw the seventh sense and to construct what very well might become the icon for a new religion.

...seriously.  ;)

Saturday, June 4, 2011

it only get's better

so they say.

but some days, I have to wonder.

Friday, June 3, 2011

on being alone...





I gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which I must stop and look fear in the face... I say to myself, I've lived through this and can take the next thing that comes along... We must do the things we think we cannot do.


~Eleanor Roosevelt~





I don't like being alone.  As far back as I can remember, I can remember not liking being left alone.  Maybe it goes all the way back to being left alone in a stark room with an army of nurses and doctors who held down my tiny, three year old person so that I could not move a muscle so that they could perform a spinal tap.  To this day I still remember my absolute terror as the nurses put their hands on my head, shoulders, arms, hips, legs... any part of my body that might move and cause me harm as the procedure was performed.  I imagine my mother tried to explain to me what was going to happen... but how do you explain to a three year old that they must endure incredible pain, without moving a muscle, in order to find out what's wrong with them?  


It turned out that I had epilepsy.  I spent the next few weeks at Oakland Children's hospital in a special ward with other children likewise diagnosed... all of us with varying degrees of what is still a very, very mysterious neurological condition.  I had, unbeknownst to me, become part of a very import series of medical trials designed to find efficient treatments for epilepsy.  After I was released from the hospital I was rarely out of sight of a trusted adult (in case I had a seizure) and became remarkable isolated simultaneously.  


To control the seizures, I was taking a regimen of Dilantin, Phenobarbital, and Valium twice daily.  The Dilantin and the Phenobarbital were used to control my seizures.  The Valium was used to mellow down the incredible side effects the other two medications had on my very young, developing person.  In my mother's words, the medication made me a demon child.  My mother, or those caring for me, kept a close eye on this very sick little person so I was rarely 'alone'.  But then I started going to school.  


Of course, the schools were told of my condition, and that's where the isolation began.  Today they tell teachers with epileptics in their classes, "treat them like any other child".  But back when I was a girl, this was not the case.  I was put in the back of the class so as not to "frighten" the other children should I have a seizure.  I only had one grand mal seizure (the big nasty ones that affect the entire body).  Most of mine were what are called petit mal seizures... where I would just vanish into my own mind for a while,staring blankly out into space until my brain kickstarted itself again.  But my teachers didn't care, to the back of the room I went, ignored and feared.  This trickled down to the students I was in classes with and as such, I was excluded and pushed aside as "that weird girl"  This went on through the second grade.  When my teacher recommended that I be held back because I couldn't read a single word, my parents realized there was a problem.  (of course there was a problem!  My teachers were afraid of me and avoided me like the plague) My mother, having just remarried, decided to move and give me a fresh start at a new school.  My second second grade teacher was this crazy old woman named Ms. Bittner and she had my number immediately.  She had only compassion for the epilepsy diagnosis even though I'd not had a seizure in two years and treated me like every other student in her class.  She taught me to read and by the end of the year... I was ahead of the rest of my class.  


I was also... no longer alone.  


I wasn't ostracized by the other students as I had been in K-2nd grade (the first time), because I wasn't being ostracized by the teachers.  But the insecurity and fear of being alone had already planted it's evil little seeds in my heart.  


So, by hook or by crook, I've managed to never be alone since that time.  I've had roommates or lived at home with the family.  In a big, rambling Portuguese family this is a highly acceptable thing!  :)  Even when I separated from my ex, I had the children with me, and when the children were with their father... I went back to drum corps.   Yes, there were nights where I was alone...but never for an extended period of time where I was just... flying solo on my own.  


....and now I am.  


I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.  I'm thankful for the two dogs and the kitten that sleep on my bed each night.  But I MISS the children something terrible...even in their worst and most fretful moods.  That'll be a post for another day, after I've determined more fully just how I feel about this being alone thing.  

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

preparing for a ranting tear....

this might just be the precursor to a much larger storm of vile rantings... but it must be said so that I can get the vile evilness out of my heart and get one with my day...

when good people get vilified and treated like shite, and the sucky ass humans who gossip and malign others for their sheer enjoyment and gratification get all the praise and glory, I get peeved.

I get more than peeved... I get downright pissed off.

I know some folks like this (won't dignify their existence by even calling them acquaintances) and have to say that I am waiting for the day when Karma smacks 'em upside the head with a big ol' 2x4 of comeuppance.   

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

short & sweet

all  i have to say about today is that it was a very, very good day.  

<3

Monday, May 23, 2011

of dreams... and nightmares.





When I was a child, I dreamed a great deal.  I knew somewhere, in the very back of my mind that I was dreaming, but the dreams would play out with me, their hapless victim.  I still can recall several of the most vivid and frightening very clearly.  

For the past, I don't know how many years, I haven't recalled my dreams, save on rare occasions, and even those became ephemeral and fleeting once I was a few hours into my day.  I have counted this as a blessing, knowing enough about human psychology to know that we are never truly dreamless.  We may not recall our dreams...but they are there...

My children and I received yesterday, a brand new kitten.  We adore cats, and haven't had one in a while.  The result was having to make sure I was up every couple of hours to ensure the little fluffball got a trip to her kitty box.  She's just a wee thing and cant' make the jump from the bed to the floor yet.  The net result was, I believe, me spending a great deal more time in REM sleep last night than I do on most other nights.  

...and i dreamed.  

I don't like the dreams where I can't speak, or I can see.   I've had the pursuit dreams, I get them, I can deal with them.  But the not speaking ones, and the ones where I lose sight sporadically are just... WEIRD and remarkable unsettling.  These are the dreams that I remember with great clarity and for extended periods of time.  They stick with me for some reason.  

Now, the inability to speak in dreams, the inability to communicate, can reflect feelings of not being heard in ones waking life.  (How many times have I made that complaint?)   A person may feel ignored or not valued for their thoughts.  but the dream I had last night... it was more than not being able to speak.  It was frightening and the inability to speak or cry out  made the fear all the more intense and palpable.  

In my room there are sliding glass doors which open onto our back yard.  The children and the pups like to romp about in the grass when the weather is warm and sunny, I like to sit out there and watch the birds that flit and fly about the yards that abut ours.   Every night, before it gets dark out, I check that door and make sure that it is well fastened and locked tight.  I did so last night, just like every night, then again once more right before bed.  Lately, Armani, my "rent-a-pup" has been sleeping on the foot of the bed.  The slightest sounds will waken her and she'll bark if there's anyone about.  But she wasn't with me last night, the new kitten was.  My brain knew this, and took advantage.

I rose having heard a noise.  It should not have been light out, yet there was light streaming into the back yard, and thus, through the chinks round the edges of the curtain covering the sliding glass door that led out.  It was the billowing of the curtains that made my heart race and my breath catch deep in my chest.  The curtains only billowed when the door was open.  

It was wide open.  Shocked...I stood there, one hand on the door handle, the other braced against the door jam, staring out into my yard.  Why was the door open?  I had locked it.  I always lock it.   The man striding across my yard seemed not to notice me for a moment.  Taller than me, he was broad and heavily muscled, to use the word 'thug' would be most appropriate.  He moved with purpose from the back of the yard, past the bird of paradise tree towards where the hot water heater is housed.  But then, he pauses and looks my way, looks directly at me... and starts forward.  Still I am standing there, the cool air of night blowing against my face.  I want to scream out to the children.  I want to cry out for help.  I want to slam the door shut and lock it... keeping him at bay.  But I can do nothing.  I am frozen, the words caught in my throat.  Halfway towards me his expression changes, and becomes almost feral, and I finally act.  The door slides shut and the lock clicks home.  I don't know if he continues in his approach... I have already turned and moved, running out of the room, the door slamming shut behind me, the thought clear in my head that I must ensure the children are safe. 

I woke up then, a kitten mewing at me piteously that she needed to go use her box, again.  I scooped up the cute little thing and deposited her in her box, then made sure that damn door was closed up tight.  It was, the dogs were sleeping soundly and there seemed to be no signs of any hulking thugs rampaging about my back yard.  Once the little fuzzball was done with her business, we got back to the business of trying to have a good nights rest.  I'd like to report that I didn't dream the rest of the night, but I'd be fibbing.  I did.  At least it was nothing so striking that I am able to clearly recall them now.  

So maybe my brain is trying to help me figure out some major subconscious boggle in the deep, dead of night.   Or maybe, it was just a really sucky-ass bad dream that creeped me out more than it should.  Either way, whoever is doling out the dreaming needs to skip me over the next night or two.  I need some sleep!  

Thursday, May 19, 2011

I need a new baseball hat

Tie Dye perhaps? 
I do... I need a new baseball hat.  My current favorite, is a tan SF Jazz baseball hat, gifted to me by one of the folks who works with SF Jazz.  It's a lovely neutral that goes with just about everything.  But it's been around for a while now and has picked up a few stains.  The stitching is still solid (my absolute FAVORITE hat fell apart.  :(  ) but it's not as pretty and new as it once was.  It's a great, solid hat for just about every day, but I find that I need a new baseball hat.

It's just something that really needs to happen.

I like hats.  I don't like having hat-hair...but I do adore hats.  But, I have a small head so finding hats that fit well and won't go blowing off at the slightest  hint of a breeze (happens a lot here in S.F.) can be a bit of a challenge.  Baseball hats are perfect... I can size them down to my tiny little 6 7/8 hat size and rest assured that only in the most windy conditions might it threaten to go flying away.

...I mentioned that I don't like having hat-hair, right?

Now, unfortunately, wanting a hat brings me to the point of needing to CHOOSE a hat...and this is where the conundrum begins.   How on earth am I supposed to choose one when there are so very many very, very cool baseball hats out there to choose from.  You might think it simple... just go with your hometown baseball team's hat.  Okay... that's one idea.  But what if you don't like Baseball?  I happen to love Baseball, but my hometown team's hat is not necessarily, well, coordinate-able with the bulk of my wardrobe.  I just don't do Orange.  o.O  Not a good color on this little gal.  My ex-favorite hat was a darling little affair.  Light blue denim with a pink ginham daisy with a little Hello Kitty at the center.  LOVED that hat.  But, eventually I wore it out and it fell apart.  Then came the 'DUDE' hat.  Neutral, tan, with a big  blue oval in the center with the word DUDE in bright orange letters.  Fun story behind this one... Dell, launched a marketing campaign where in a young man (in commercials) would say "Dude! You're getting a Dell!"  Unfortunately... the young man playing the role of 'slaker Steve' was caught and arrested for attempting to buy marijuana, which pretty much immediately ended the marketing campaign.  Yet... having known someone who worked for Dell for many years, I was able to get my grubby little paws on one of the rare and elusive baseball hats from that campaign.  As I am a gamer-chick and tend to use the word 'dude' ad nauseum... it was only natural that said hat  become mine.   But, like all good baseball hats... it's gotten a bit old and worn and stained.   That's when the SF Jazz hat came onto the scene.  And, like its predecessors,   it's beginning to show signs of its age and frequent use.

So a new hat must be found.   Why all the Fendi hats?  I think they're pretty.  I'm a visual person, so I've been skulking through google images looking for the perfect baseball hat.  It needs to be something I can wear to work (baseball hats are almost a requirement where I work), something that will go with the bulk of my relaxed wardrobe, something that reflects my unique personality and sense of style.  (I really like this floral one!)  But I'm not opposed to some other form of baseball hat.  If I could possibly FIND the cute Hello Kitty hat again, I'd buy that in a heartbeat.

But when one thinks baseball hats, one almost must think about baseball. As I mentioned earlier, I don't groove to my hometown team's hat.  Love the team, don't love the hat.  But, they're not my only team.  I grew up watching the Yankees far more than I did the Giants.  Still love the Yankees, just because watching them brings back such fond memories of sitting in the living room with my step dad, watching the game and being instructed in the game of baseball by someone who really knew the game inside and out.  Dad was a fabulous baseball player when he was young, and taught me how to play.  Everything I know and love about baseball came from him, and for me, the Yankees bring all of that home every time I watch them play.  Last fall I was in an airport where there was a shop with a great display of NY Yankees baseball caps.  I was tempted to buy one then, but was watching my finances and really couldn't afford the extra expense.  I still regret that I didn't one.

And while i'm on the subject of baseball hats... what the HECK is the deal with these dratted hats with flat brims.  I cannot begin to describe how irritating I find those flat brimmed baseball hats.  I hate them so much I almost want to declare that they are not legitimate baseball hats. A baseball hat, in my opinion, is supposed to have a nice rounded brim, so as to help keep the light away from sensitive eyes.  I do not like the flat brimmed baseball hats.  I do not.

To that end, I give you this article I came across relating to baseball hats and their brims: Baseball Cap Care

and now... back to my regularly scheduled pile of things to do.  Some much to do and so little time in which to do it!

...and I still need a new baseball hat. 

Monday, May 16, 2011

memories....

*just an aside as I eat my lunch*

... I noticed today that some of my favorite photos (of myself) were either taken by, or include, a very dear friend of mine who passed away recently. He was a very special person, to be able to induce that particular smile that you's see on my face in those photos. He was never a romantic interest, just one of my closest and dearest friends.

I think sometimes that I did not value his friendship enough when he was with us. I made a point of calling him just to catch up on our favorite books and shows, and he always knew he was welcome in my home. There was never a phone call that didn't end with "my love to you and the little ones" and there was never a major holiday that passed when we didn't call one another.

Without being anything other than a good and loyal friend, he was my staunchest defender. When my husband told me he was in love with another woman, and that I should leave... my friend was there. He was the only one (out of our local friends), if you want to be brutally honest about what happened way back then. My ex and I have reached a point where we can be friendly now, and even he has admitted that my dear sweet friend had been there for me, no questions asked. He was the only person I know/knew with balls enough gently and kindly tell my ex that we was being a douche (though he used somewhat harsher language than I might). He made sure I wasn't alone and had someone to go to the movies with (finding a sci-fi watching movie-mate is tough when you're a cute girlie sometimes!). He listened when I was crying and falling apart, and gently helped keep the pieces in one pile until such time as I could start putting myself back together again.

So, I sit here on this rainy day reflecting upon what it is that I, personally, have lost in the passing of this once gentle, intelligent man who so loved my family and was loved in return. There is still a massive, gaping wound in my heart that aches when I think of him, so good and kind and wanting so little from this life. Even near the end...there he was, looking out for me. He'd already heard the rumors of the day floating about and called. We talked and shared and laughed and cried... and at the end of our talk, I thanked him for being one of my best friends and one of the best people I knew. I told him that he was a true gentleman and that he was loved. I'm thankful for that opportunity to say what was most important before I'd not have the chance ever again.

I miss you bud, and think of you every day... always with love and fondness.

getting back to it...

It's been a long time coming, but finally, at long last, I'm starting to put things back together, the way I want them.

I used to write prolifically. I've gotten away from that. I used to draw almost as much, and I've gotten away from that too. I used to laugh, and dance, and play with my children...

...but somewhere along the way I started to hear the same mantra over and over again... about how I must be more responsible, more mature, more focused on the wants and needs of my family. Somewhere in the midst of 'growing up' and becoming the responsible woman the world was instructing me to become... the artist got lost and fell behind.

I've missed her quirky style and obsessive bouts of creative genius. I missed the long nights spent finding that perfect 'line'. I've missed the weekends spent curled up in front of my monitor writing page after page of story, until I surface and discover that I'm 50 or 100 or 200 pages into some fabulous adventure. I've longed to have that back and have wondered where it went to, all of the fun and creativity that used to fill my life.

So here I am... back at it, with fresh, renewed determination not to let the world take from me what it tried to take once before. This is my art, and my life... it's time to take it back.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Poetry...

I've forgotten how much I adore poetry. Writing, sadly, has become a luxury I don't enjoy as often as I once did. However, that being said, there's no rule stating I can't share poetry already written! :) From back in '04, prior to some very nasty happenings in my life:


Rote
by ~pencillicious (my online pen name)

Empty heart
Fraught with pain
Give and give
Then fail again

Reaching out
Tow the line
Give your all
One more time

Standing firm
Hold your ground
Resist Temptation’s
Enticing sound

Optimism’s
Guiding light
Fades to naught
Out of sight

Foolish mortal
Blind with hope
Trapped and bound
In a pattern rote.

Monday, March 14, 2011

of bullies

As there is current awareness for brining severe bullying to an end, I did a bit of research into bullying. Frightening stuff... afraid to say that I know some folks like this.

What is bullying?
Bullying is persistent unwelcome behaviour, mostly using unwarranted or invalid criticism, nit-picking, fault-finding, also exclusion, isolation, being singled out and treated differently, being shouted at, humiliated, and much more.

Why do people bully?
The purpose of bullying is to hide inadequacy. Therefore, anyone who chooses to bully is admitting their inadequacy, and the extent to which a person bullies is a measure of their inadequacy. Bullies project their inadequacy on to others:

a) to avoid facing up to their inadequacy and doing something about it;
b) to avoid accepting responsibility for their behaviour and the effect it has on others, and,
c) to reduce their fear of being seen for what they are, namely a weak, inadequate and often incompetent individuals, and,
d) to divert attention away from their inadequacy - in an insecure or badly-managed workplace, this is how inadequate, incompetent and aggressive employees keep their jobs.

Bullying is present behind all forms of harassment, discrimination, prejudice, abuse, persecution, conflict and violence. When the bullying has a focus (eg race or gender) it is expressed as racial prejudice or harassment, or sexual discrimination and harassment, and so on. When the bullying lacks a focus (or the bully is aware of the Sex Discrimination Act or the Race Relations Act), it comes out as pure bullying; this is an opportunity to understand the behaviours which underlie almost all reprehensible behavior. I believe bullying is the single most important social issue of today.

Bullying...
is a form of abuse, and bullies often go to great lengths to keep their targets quiet, using threats to intimidate. What bullies fear most is exposure of their inadequacy and being called publicly to account for their behavior and its consequences. This makes sense when you remember that the purpose of bullying is to hide inadequacy, and people who bully to hide their inadequacy are often incompetent.

A bully is a person who
has never learnt to accept responsibility for their behaviour
wants to enjoy the benefits of living in the adult world, but who is unable and unwilling to accept the responsibilities that are a prerequisite for being part of the adult world, abdicates and denies responsibility for their behaviour and its consequences (abdication and denial are common features of bullying) and
is unable and unwilling to recognise the effect of their behaviour on others and
does not want to know of any other way of behaving and is unwilling to recognise that there could be better ways of behaving.

Bullying is obsessive and compulsive; the serial bully has to have someone to bully and appears to be unable to survive without a current target.

Despite the facade that such people put up, bullies have low self-confidence and low self-esteem, and thus feel insecure. Low self-esteem is a factor highlighted by all studies of bullying. Because such people are inadequate and unable to fulfil the duties and obligations of their position (but have no hesitation in accepting salary), they fear being revealed. This fear of exposure often borders on paranoia.

Bullies are seething with resentment, bitterness, hatred and anger, and often have wide-ranging prejudices as a vehicle for dumping their anger onto others. Bullies are driven by jealousy and envy. Rejection (which cannot be assuaged) is another powerful motivator of bullying.

Bullies are people who have not learned the lesson of consequences, ie that if they behave well there are good consequences (reward), but if they behave badly there are bad consequences (restriction, sanction, punishment, etc). Since childhood, bullies have learnt that they can avoid the unpleasant consequences of bad behaviour through the instinctive response of denial, blame, and feigning victimhood.

Types of bullying

Pressure bullying or unwitting bullying is where the stress of the moment causes behaviour to deteriorate; the person becomes short-tempered, irritable and may shout or swear at others. Everybody does this from time to time, but when the pressure is removed, behaviour returns to normal, the person recognises the inappropriateness of their behaviour, makes amends, and may apologise, and - crucially - learns from the experience so that next time the situation arises they are better able to deal with it. This is "normal" behaviour and I do not include pressure bullying in my definition of bullying.


Serial bullying is where the source of all dysfunction can be traced to one individual, who picks on one person after another and destroys them. This is the most common type of bullying come across; most of this is devoted to describing and defining the serial bully, who exhibits the behavioural characteristics of a socialised psychopath. Most people know at least one person in their life with the profile of the serial bully; most people do not recognise this person as a socialised psychopath, or sociopath. I estimate one person in thirty is either a physically-violent psychopath who commits criminal acts, or an antisocial whose behaviour is antisocial, or a sociopath who commits mostly non-arrestable offences.

Secondary bullying is mostly unwitting bullying which people start exhibiting when there's a serial bully in the department. The pressure of trying to deal with a dysfunctional, divisive and aggressive serial bully causes everyone's behaviour to decline.

Pair bullying is a serial bully with a colleague. Often one does the talking whilst the other watches and listens. Usually it's the quiet one you need to watch. Usually they are of opposite gender and frequently there's an affair going on.

Gang bullying is a serial bully with colleagues. Gangs can occur anywhere, but flourish in social climates. If the bully is an extrovert, they are likely to be leading from the front; they may also be a shouter and screamer, and thus easily identifiable (and recordable on tape and video-able). If the bully is an introvert, that person will be in the background initiating the mayhem but probably not taking an active part, and may thus be harder to identify. A common tactic of this type of bully is to tell everybody a different story - usually about what others are alleged to have said about that person - and encourage each person to think they are the only one with the correct story. Introvert bullies are the most dangerous bullies.
Half the people in the gang are happy for the opportunity to behave badly, they gain gratification from the feeling of power and control, and enjoy the patronage, protection and reward from the serial bully. The other half of the gang are coerced into joining in, usually through fear of being the next target if they don't. If anything backfires, one of these coercees will be the scapegoat and sacrificial lamb on whom enraged targets will be encouraged to vent their anger. The serial bully watches from a safe distance. Serial bullies gain a great deal of gratification from encouraging and watching others engage in conflict, especially those who might otherwise pool negative information about them.
Gang bullying or group bullying is often called mobbing and usually involves scapegoating and victimisation.

Vicarious bullying is where two parties are encouraged to engage in adversarial interaction or conflict. Similar to gang bullying, although the bully may or may not be directly connected with either of the two parties. One party becomes the bully's instrument of harassment and is deceived and manipulated into bullying the other party. An example of vicarious bullying is where the serial bully creates conflict between employer and employee, participating occasionally to stoke the conflict, but rarely taking an active part in the conflict themselves.

Regulation bullying is where a serial bully forces their target to comply with rules, regulations, procedures or laws regardless of their appropriateness, applicability or necessity. Legal bullying - the bringing of a vexatious legal action to control and punish a person - is one of the nastiest forms of bullying.

Residual bullying is the bullying of all kinds that continues after the serial bully has left. Like recruits like and like promotes like, therefore the serial bully bequeaths a dysfunctional environment to those who are left. This can last for years.

Cyber bullying is the misuse of email systems or Internet forums etc for sending aggressive flame mails. Serial bullies have few communication skills (and often none), thus the impersonal nature of email makes it an ideal tool for causing conflict. Sometimes called cyberstalking.

In environments where bullying is the norm, most people will eventually either become bullies or become targets. There are few bystanders, as most people will eventually be sucked in. It's about survival: you either adopt bullying tactics yourself and thus survive by not becoming a target, or you stand up against bullying and refuse to join in, in which case you are bullied, harassed, victimized and scapegoated until your health is so severely impaired that you a breakdown.

Bullying is a form of violence (at the psychological and emotional lever rather than the physical).

What is bullying?

People who are bullied find that they are:

constantly criticised and subjected to destructive criticism (often euphemistically called constructive criticism, which is an oxymoron) - explanations and proof of achievement are ridiculed, overruled, dismissed or ignored
forever subject to nit-picking and trivial fault-finding (the triviality is the giveaway)
undermined, especially in front of others; false concerns are raised, or doubts are expressed over a person's performance - however, the doubts lack substantive and quantifiable evidence, for they are only the bully's unreliable opinion and are for control, not performance enhancement
overruled, ignored, sidelined, marginalised, ostracised
isolated and excluded from what's happening (this makes people more vulnerable and easier to control and subjugate)
singled out and treated differently, belittled, degraded, demeaned, ridiculed, patronised, subject to disparaging remarks, regularly the target of offensive language, personal remarks, or inappropriate bad language, shouted at and humiliated, especially in front of others, taunted and teased where the intention is to embarrass and humiliate, denied information or knowledge.


Why me?

There are many reasons how and why bullies target others, and the reasons are consistent between cases. There are many myths and stereotypes such as "victims are weak" which I deconstruct on my myths page. Bullying often repeats because the reasons that bullies target their victims don't change, hence this section also answers the questions "Why do I keep getting bullied" and "Why do bullies continue to bully me?".

1) How do bullies select their targets?

The bully selects their target using the following criteria:

bullies are predatory and opportunistic - you just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; this is always the main reason - investigation will reveal a string of predecessors, and you will have a string of successors being good at your job, often excelling being popular with people (colleagues, customers, clients, pupils, parents, patients, etc) more than anything else, the bully fears exposure of his/her inadequacy and incompetence; your presence, popularity and competence unknowingly and unwittingly fuel that fear
being the expert and the person to whom others come for advice, either personal or professional (ie you get more attention than the bully)having a well-defined set of values which you are unwilling to compromise, having a strong sense of integrity (bullies despise integrity, for they have none, and seem compelled to destroy anyone who has integrity), having at least one vulnerability that can be exploited, refusing to join an established clique, showing independence of thought or deed, Jealousy (of relationships and perceived exclusion therefrom) and envy (of talents, abilities, circumstances or possessions) are strong motivators of bullying.

2) Events that trigger bullying

Bullying starts after one of these events:

the previous target leaves, you may have unwittingly become the focus of attention whereas before the bully was the centre of attention (this often occurs with female bullies) - most bullies are emotionally immature and thus crave attention, obvious displays of affection, respect or trust from co-workers, refusing to obey an order which violates rules, regulations, procedures, or is illegal, standing up for a colleague who is being bullied - this ensures you will be next; sometimes the bully drops their current target and turns their attention to you immediately, blowing the whistle on incompetence, malpractice, fraud, illegality, breaches of procedure, challenging the status quo, especially unwittingly, gaining recognition for your achievements, eg winning an award or being publicly recognised

3) Personal qualities that bullies find irresistible

Targets of bullying usually have these qualities:

popularity (this stimulates jealousy in the less-than-popular bully)
competence (this stimulates envy in the less-than-competent bully)
intelligence and intellect
honesty and integrity (which bullies despise)
you're trustworthy, trusting, conscientious, loyal and dependable
a well-developed integrity which you're unwilling to compromise
you're always willing to go that extra mile and expect others to do the same
successful, tenacious, determined, courageous, having fortitude
a sense of humour, including displays of quick-wittedness
imaginative, creative, innovative
idealistic, optimistic, always working for improvement and betterment of self, family, the employer, and the world
ability to master new skills
ability to think long term and to see the bigger picture
sensitivity (this is a constellation of values to be cherished including empathy, concern for others, respect, tolerance etc)
slow to anger
helpful, always willing to share knowledge and experience
giving and selfless
difficulty saying no
diligent, industrious
tolerant
strong sense of honour
irrepressible, wanting to tackle and correct injustice wherever you see it
an inability to value oneself whilst attributing greater importance and validity to other people's opinions of oneself (eg through tests, exams, appraisals, manager's feedback, etc)
low propensity to violence (ie you prefer to resolve conflict through dialogue rather than through violence or legal action)
a strong forgiving streak (which the bully exploits and manipulates to dissuade you from taking grievance and legal action)
a desire to always think well of others
being incorruptible, having high moral standards which you are unwilling to compromise
being unwilling to lower standards
a strong well-defined set of values which you are unwilling to compromise or abandon
high expectations of those in authority and a dislike of incompetent people in positions of power who abuse power
a tendency to self-deprecation, indecisiveness, deference and approval seeking
low assertiveness
a need to feel valued
quick to apologise when accused, even if not guilty (this is a useful technique for defusing an aggressive customer or potential road rage incident)
perfectionism
higher-than-average levels of dependency, naivety and guilt
a strong sense of fair play and a desire to always be reasonable
high coping skills under stress, especially when the injury to health becomes apparent
a tendency to internalise anger rather than express it

The typical sequence of events is:

the target is selected using the criteria above, then bullied for months, perhaps years, eventually, the target asserts their right not to be bullied, and takes a stand whereupon, with an interview with the bully, who uses their Jekyll and Hyde nature, compulsive lying, and charm to tell the opposite story (charm has a motive - deception) it's one word against another with no witnesses and no evidence, so it's hard to know who is telling the truth.

There are many myths, misperceptions and stereotypes that bullies and their supporters, apologists and deniers disingenuously use to hide the facts listed above and to further victimise those targeted.




I am certainly glad that I am not the sort of person who bullies. I'm sad to say that I am closely acquainted with a few individuals though, who ARE bullies. They know WHO they are, perhaps when next they come stalking by my page, they will realize WHAT they are.

for those opposed to bullying in all it's forms... please share this and help educate those who might be oppressed odious human beings.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

temper, temper

the world has no idea of the force I become when my patience has been pressed to it's breaking point.

Push me and I will show you the full fury of my wrath. I may not be loud, I may not use a lot of foul language (though sometimes I do), but you WILL know that you have done gone and pissed this little country gal off.

I don't like to be angry, it makes a person feel horrid and ugly on the inside. But, I will not, nor will my family, be pushed around by those who would bully, coerce, and manipulate.

so... if you REALLY want to see the ugly, angry flip side to charity and understanding... go ahead and make my day. ($1 to Dirty Harry)

Monday, February 28, 2011

le sigh....

I miss him. I miss him lots... more than he might know.

It's always a rather rough day (or two) when my dear boy (significant other) has to travel away from our little home here in the most beautiful City on earth so our other home. I get so used to his presence, of being able to just run up (or down) stairs to talk to him should my heart be troubled, to being able to kiss his cheek before I leave for work early in the AM. A part of me goes missing when he's away, and longs for the day when he'll be back home again.

What can I say... I'm in love with a wonderful man.

BUT, sacrifices have to be made, especially when facing a project like the one we've been working on the past few months. Yes, it's still rather top secret, but it's fascinating and I LOVE getting the opportunity to work so closely with him on something that means so much to him. He's always there, encouraging me in my projects and aspirations... now I get the opportunity to help him in his dreams and endeavors.

so...YAY for things moving in a positive direction with the new project. YAY for being a vital part of the team. And YAY for homecomings... which we will have soon enough.

:)

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Valentines Day World!

It's a beautiful rainy day here in S.F... but it's a beautiful one regardless. What could be better than a City full of people all wishing one another the best on a day for Love? Perhaps an entire weekend getting to be next to the one you love, working hard towards dreams of amazing potential.

Had a wonderful weekend with my sweetheart, working on our new project. I was more than a little flattered to be initiated and included as part of the 'dream team'. To have my work valued and appreciated really was an amazing gift. More exciting... seeing how my artwork can play into the end vision. I can't believe I'm getting a shot at such an amazing opportunity and am SO glad for the chance.

Yay for rainy days that are beautiful and yay for the Love that we should all share between us.

<3

Thursday, February 10, 2011

:)

Happy Happy Joy Joy
Happy Happy Joy Joy
Happy Happy Joy Joy
Happy Happy Joy Joy!!!!




to quote my favorite hobbit: "all's well that ends better"

Indeed my little fuzzy footed friend, indeed.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

building...

takes time. It takes a foundation upon which to build. It takes resources and financing in order to propel it forward. Building is a process which takes time and dedication. It takes sacrifice. It takes giving of oneself until there is nothing left to give... and then giving that little bit extra that will inevitably, tip the scales of balance in the right direction.

This weekend... the tools of the trade are being packed so that I can venture out into the big ol' world of creative genius. I can't imagine a more exciting time as this project begins to grow and bear fruit. I'm truly flattered that my talents are being utilized and that after all the wheat has been separated from the chaff, glad that I am part of the kernel and not the light fluff that floats away on the wind.


;)

Friday, February 4, 2011

of love

‎"When love is accompanied with deep intimacy, it raises us to the highest level of human experience. In this exalted space, we can surrender our egos, become vulnerable and know levels of joy and well-being unique among life experiences. We attain a glimpse of the rapture that can be ours. Boundaries are blurred, there are no limitations and we rejoice in union. We become one and at the same time-both." Leo Buscaglia


I've had this... I've touched it. Truly, one of the best feelings in the world. I am so truly blessed that the Universe has seen fit to let me touch such greatness and to have such a special person in my life to share it with.

Monday, January 31, 2011

dear 'friends'




... I am doing GREAT these days. Life is, contrary to the wishes of meine feinde (not to be confused with meine Freund) , better than could be expected. There's something to be said for being honest and up front about what one thinks. Yup. And there's even MORE to be said for working with folks to find resolution to difficult situations.

so...quickly and in a nutshell (as I'm busy busy with work)

The children are GREAT
work (Dave's Gourmet) is GREAT
work (independent) is growing and GREAT
Personal Life is coming along quite nicely
Personal Development is GREAT

so all in all... life is wonderful. We're all working hard to achieve our dreams and having the adventure of a lifetime doing it.

Booyaka, Booyaka, BOOYA!