Monday, February 14, 2005
Photos of Amsterdam (8)
As you can tell I find doors interesting. Doors lead to other lives and until you enter you can not tell what that life may be like. Sometimes you can hazard a guess. What do the set of doors in the last photo tell you about the person who lives behind the second door from the left?
Friday, February 11, 2005
Am I There Yet?
The whole point of being alive is to evolve into the complete person you were intended to be.
-Oprah Winfrey
I want to thank my sisters and Blue Witch for the supportive messages they left in the comment box of my New Year's Resolution post. It was very generous of you. But I do think I owe some of you an apology. I have been writing about mundane, unremarkable things for the last four or five months and the other day I feel I kind of sucker punched you. That was not my intention. I do not write to show other people how horrid my childhood was because, all in all, it could have been worse. There were some intense, scary moments and those are the memories that get burned into your psyche. Some are so intense they get locked inside you only to emerge again when you talk or write about them. At least that is the way it is for me.
I find that by looking back and writing about my life I am figuring out the way I look at life in general. Figuring out how I perceive life helps me to evolve into the person I want to be. So, what have I learned so far?
1. That I am loved. I somehow felt this even before I was born. I think that is why I have always known my parents loved me even if they did a bad job of showing it by their actions or words.
2. That children are hostages to their parents lives. In that I mean they have no control over their own lives and there is nothing they can do about it.
3. That once you are out of your parent's house you are responsible for your own life. How it goes from that point on is up to you.
4. That when my parents woke-up each morning their first thought wasn't, "Humm, how can I f++k-up my kids today?"
5. That I don't have to forgive my parents for the things they did or didn't do. All I have to do is accept the fact that what happened did happen and that I can't change it.
6. That no one in the world is better than me. Other people may have fame, money, talent, brains, looks, or power. None of that makes them any better than me.
7. That we are all here to learn from each other. We do this each time we share our stories or opinions. This is what I like best about being a member of Blogland.
-Oprah Winfrey
I want to thank my sisters and Blue Witch for the supportive messages they left in the comment box of my New Year's Resolution post. It was very generous of you. But I do think I owe some of you an apology. I have been writing about mundane, unremarkable things for the last four or five months and the other day I feel I kind of sucker punched you. That was not my intention. I do not write to show other people how horrid my childhood was because, all in all, it could have been worse. There were some intense, scary moments and those are the memories that get burned into your psyche. Some are so intense they get locked inside you only to emerge again when you talk or write about them. At least that is the way it is for me.
I find that by looking back and writing about my life I am figuring out the way I look at life in general. Figuring out how I perceive life helps me to evolve into the person I want to be. So, what have I learned so far?
1. That I am loved. I somehow felt this even before I was born. I think that is why I have always known my parents loved me even if they did a bad job of showing it by their actions or words.
2. That children are hostages to their parents lives. In that I mean they have no control over their own lives and there is nothing they can do about it.
3. That once you are out of your parent's house you are responsible for your own life. How it goes from that point on is up to you.
4. That when my parents woke-up each morning their first thought wasn't, "Humm, how can I f++k-up my kids today?"
5. That I don't have to forgive my parents for the things they did or didn't do. All I have to do is accept the fact that what happened did happen and that I can't change it.
6. That no one in the world is better than me. Other people may have fame, money, talent, brains, looks, or power. None of that makes them any better than me.
7. That we are all here to learn from each other. We do this each time we share our stories or opinions. This is what I like best about being a member of Blogland.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Photos Of Amsterdam (7)
The area my sister lives in is a housing project built in the late 1920's and early 1930's. It is kind of like Levittown in that it was a planned community. Only it was built twenty years earlier, consists mostly of apartments buildings and is built completely out of brick. One architect designed the lay-out of the buildings and the streets then allowed other architects to design the "look" of the building fronts. One way each made "their" buildings unique was in the design of the doors and entrances.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
New Year's Resolution
I was looking at some of my old entries and I noticed I've been holding back in my writing since I came back from my summer break. Most of my writing has been what I would call neutral. When I have written about things that mean something to me I've only skimmed the surface of what I've wanted to convey. I wondered what had changed. Now it seems that when ever I start to write anything I feel like I am boxed in and unable to express what I really want to say.
I have finally figured out my problem. When I came back from my break I realized people were reading my blog. I know, it sounds stupid since I've always known that people were reading it just by perusing the comments but I did not understand what that meant until I came back.
It it like the time I went skydiving. I knew before I decided to do it that skydiving meant you put on a parachute and jumped out of a airplane. I knew what it meant when I got into the airplane and we started rolling down the runway. I knew what it meant when we started climbing up to the jumping out point. I knew what it meant as I watched one of the other jumpers dive out the open cargo door at 5,000 feet above the earth. But seeing that made me really understand what skydiving meant. It meant I was going to jump out of a perfectly good airplane and fall hundreds of feet while wearing a parachute and hoping to god it would open. In that instant my understanding of what skydiving was went from the abstract to the concrete.
Well, I have gone from the abstract to the concrete in understanding the fact that people are reading my blog. I have gone from seeing a mass of undefined "people" to seeing that individual persons are reading my blog. Real live people are reading my blog; family, old friends, new friends, and people I don't even know about yet. By reading what I write here you can get to know me bit and that thought is frightening to me. If you get to know me then I become visible and I have spent my life trying to be invisible. Invisible because that was the safe thing to do. Anything else was dangerous for me and those around me.
I first learned that being invisible was good by being around my father when he was drunk. My father was a happy drunk at the beginning of a drinking spree but then, at some point in the process, turned into a mean one. The problem was you never knew where that point was. He could laugh in delight one minute and the backhand you across the face in rage the next. When he reached the mean stage becoming invisible was the only safe thing to do. Becoming invisible meant not attracting attention to yourself in anyway-baby bird in danger time.
Later I learned that being visible would cause pain for my older sister. My sister had some sort of learning disability in a time when doing badly in school still meant you were not trying hard enough. I hated report card time because, although I would get praised for my grades, my sister would get a whipping for hers. I would sit on my bed pressing my hands against my ears as tightly as I could trying not to hear the sound of my father's belt hitting my sister's body, or her screams and sobs, or him repeatedly asking her why she couldn't get good grades like me. I was in mental agony, wanting to do badly in school, thinking that might help my sister, but at the same time not wanting to get the whippings myself.
But even if I did get a whipping I knew my father would not whip me as long or as hard as he did my sister or my brother because my parents had done the one thing that, in some ways, is almost as bad for a child as rejecting him or her. They made me their favorite. My father showed this by not hitting me as much as he did my brother and sister's, praising me more, and remembering my birthday a couple of times after he had finally left us for good. My mother showed her favoritism by making me the responsible one after my father left. When I was younger I felt a sense of pride whenever she would say I was the responsible one. By the time I was fifteen hearing those words make me cringe. All they did was drive the wedge between my siblings and I deeper. So at a young age I learned that doing anything that drew attention to myself only brought anger and pain.
Blogging is a aberration on my part, something I would not have done if I had not gone to Spain. I started it for myself not even thinking about who or if anyone was reading it. When I realized people were reading I subconsciously became worried that by writing about anything I felt the need to write about (becoming visible) I would somehow be placing myself or others in danger. There were times when my need to express myself overcame my fear but for the most part I have been keeping a low profile.
But things are going to change. This year my New Year's Resolution is to stop trying to be invisible. It's time to toss away an old coping mechanism that has turned into a crutch. I can stand on my own two feet now.
I have finally figured out my problem. When I came back from my break I realized people were reading my blog. I know, it sounds stupid since I've always known that people were reading it just by perusing the comments but I did not understand what that meant until I came back.
It it like the time I went skydiving. I knew before I decided to do it that skydiving meant you put on a parachute and jumped out of a airplane. I knew what it meant when I got into the airplane and we started rolling down the runway. I knew what it meant when we started climbing up to the jumping out point. I knew what it meant as I watched one of the other jumpers dive out the open cargo door at 5,000 feet above the earth. But seeing that made me really understand what skydiving meant. It meant I was going to jump out of a perfectly good airplane and fall hundreds of feet while wearing a parachute and hoping to god it would open. In that instant my understanding of what skydiving was went from the abstract to the concrete.
Well, I have gone from the abstract to the concrete in understanding the fact that people are reading my blog. I have gone from seeing a mass of undefined "people" to seeing that individual persons are reading my blog. Real live people are reading my blog; family, old friends, new friends, and people I don't even know about yet. By reading what I write here you can get to know me bit and that thought is frightening to me. If you get to know me then I become visible and I have spent my life trying to be invisible. Invisible because that was the safe thing to do. Anything else was dangerous for me and those around me.
I first learned that being invisible was good by being around my father when he was drunk. My father was a happy drunk at the beginning of a drinking spree but then, at some point in the process, turned into a mean one. The problem was you never knew where that point was. He could laugh in delight one minute and the backhand you across the face in rage the next. When he reached the mean stage becoming invisible was the only safe thing to do. Becoming invisible meant not attracting attention to yourself in anyway-baby bird in danger time.
Later I learned that being visible would cause pain for my older sister. My sister had some sort of learning disability in a time when doing badly in school still meant you were not trying hard enough. I hated report card time because, although I would get praised for my grades, my sister would get a whipping for hers. I would sit on my bed pressing my hands against my ears as tightly as I could trying not to hear the sound of my father's belt hitting my sister's body, or her screams and sobs, or him repeatedly asking her why she couldn't get good grades like me. I was in mental agony, wanting to do badly in school, thinking that might help my sister, but at the same time not wanting to get the whippings myself.
But even if I did get a whipping I knew my father would not whip me as long or as hard as he did my sister or my brother because my parents had done the one thing that, in some ways, is almost as bad for a child as rejecting him or her. They made me their favorite. My father showed this by not hitting me as much as he did my brother and sister's, praising me more, and remembering my birthday a couple of times after he had finally left us for good. My mother showed her favoritism by making me the responsible one after my father left. When I was younger I felt a sense of pride whenever she would say I was the responsible one. By the time I was fifteen hearing those words make me cringe. All they did was drive the wedge between my siblings and I deeper. So at a young age I learned that doing anything that drew attention to myself only brought anger and pain.
Blogging is a aberration on my part, something I would not have done if I had not gone to Spain. I started it for myself not even thinking about who or if anyone was reading it. When I realized people were reading I subconsciously became worried that by writing about anything I felt the need to write about (becoming visible) I would somehow be placing myself or others in danger. There were times when my need to express myself overcame my fear but for the most part I have been keeping a low profile.
But things are going to change. This year my New Year's Resolution is to stop trying to be invisible. It's time to toss away an old coping mechanism that has turned into a crutch. I can stand on my own two feet now.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig
Participated in that Great American Cultural Ritual know as Super Bowl Sunday this weekend. Went to a Super Bowl Party, ate way to much, drank a little, watched the game with dwindling interest as it progressed. Super Bowl games are notoriously anticlimactic. Critiqued the commercials, wondered what Michael Douglas and Sir Paul McCartney were doing in the half-time show. Also wondered how much facial surgery each one had done since each turned sixty. Note to both, it is not normal to look "younger" after you turn sixty then you did when you were twenty. All in all a very good day.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Things I Learned This Week
Proof - a number that expresses the alcoholic strength of a liquor
1.0 Proof- Non-alcoholic beer
2.8 Proof- Maximum Strength Robitussin
10 Proof- Most American beers
48 Proof- Sam Adams' Utopias MMII (world's strongest beer)
53.8 Proof- Listerine Antiseptic
198 Proof- A drink distilled from potatoes produced in Estonia in the early 1900's.
200 Proof- Not possible. At this level the alcohol starts pulling moisture from the air and diluting itself down to less than 190 Proof.
McDonald's Milkshakes- Are not made with milk. I don't know what they are made with and I don't think I want to know.
What Social Security Numbers Mean- The first three numbers are like Zip Codes and tell you which state issued the card. The next two numbers are called "group numbers" and used to divide numbers in the same "zip code" into smaller blocks- the lower the number, the earlier you got your card. The last three numbers are "serial numbers" and run consecutively from 0001 to 9999 in each "group number."
How Much Wood A Woodchuck Could Chuck if a Woodchuck Could Chuck Wood- 700 pounds of wood. But a woodchuck can't chuck wood because a woodchuck is actually a groundhog. British trappers could not pronounce the Cree Indian word for groundhog (wuchak) correctly and called them woodchucks instead.
What "Sea-Monkeys" Really Are- Brine shrimp. The eggs lie dormant until put into water and they then "come back to life." Very popular with children until they found out they died after a month.
1.0 Proof- Non-alcoholic beer
2.8 Proof- Maximum Strength Robitussin
10 Proof- Most American beers
48 Proof- Sam Adams' Utopias MMII (world's strongest beer)
53.8 Proof- Listerine Antiseptic
198 Proof- A drink distilled from potatoes produced in Estonia in the early 1900's.
200 Proof- Not possible. At this level the alcohol starts pulling moisture from the air and diluting itself down to less than 190 Proof.
McDonald's Milkshakes- Are not made with milk. I don't know what they are made with and I don't think I want to know.
What Social Security Numbers Mean- The first three numbers are like Zip Codes and tell you which state issued the card. The next two numbers are called "group numbers" and used to divide numbers in the same "zip code" into smaller blocks- the lower the number, the earlier you got your card. The last three numbers are "serial numbers" and run consecutively from 0001 to 9999 in each "group number."
How Much Wood A Woodchuck Could Chuck if a Woodchuck Could Chuck Wood- 700 pounds of wood. But a woodchuck can't chuck wood because a woodchuck is actually a groundhog. British trappers could not pronounce the Cree Indian word for groundhog (wuchak) correctly and called them woodchucks instead.
What "Sea-Monkeys" Really Are- Brine shrimp. The eggs lie dormant until put into water and they then "come back to life." Very popular with children until they found out they died after a month.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Getting Off The Grid
In December my husband started talking about getting off the grid. By this he meant getting rid of the phone, the TV satellite, the computer, the credit cards, and the newspapers. We would keep our e-mail addresses and use the computer at the library. We would stay connected to people through e-mail and snail mail. We would have the radio for news. We would pay for everything by cash or check.
Right.
I pointed out that he could not even stop watching the television every day so how was he going to live without the other things on his list of things to get rid of? He said he didn't need to watch TV and that we could have it disconnected at the end of December. I said OK. A few days later he came back and said he was wrong it couldn't be disconnected until the end of January because the football playoff games were in January. I said OK. At the end of January I said I was looking forward to not having a television starting in February. A few days later he said the television would not be disconnected until the end of February because the Super Bowl was at the beginning of February. I smiled and said Ok.
Earlier this week my sister called and asked if I was coming to Denver this weekend. I said yes. She then asked if my husband wanted to come since they were having a Super Bowl party on Sunday. I ask him and he said yes. Yesterday my husband told me that since we were going to Denver for the Super Bowl we didn't need the satellite hook-up anymore and he was thinking of calling and having it disconnected right away. I said OK. Today he told me the satellite will be disconnected tomorrow.
We have now unplugged one thing from the grid. That is as far as I am willing to go.
Update: I guess the satellite is going just in time. I just spend five minutes watching Juggling Championship 2004 on ESPN and I am ashamed to report that I now know what a single, a double, and a triple mean.
Right.
I pointed out that he could not even stop watching the television every day so how was he going to live without the other things on his list of things to get rid of? He said he didn't need to watch TV and that we could have it disconnected at the end of December. I said OK. A few days later he came back and said he was wrong it couldn't be disconnected until the end of January because the football playoff games were in January. I said OK. At the end of January I said I was looking forward to not having a television starting in February. A few days later he said the television would not be disconnected until the end of February because the Super Bowl was at the beginning of February. I smiled and said Ok.
Earlier this week my sister called and asked if I was coming to Denver this weekend. I said yes. She then asked if my husband wanted to come since they were having a Super Bowl party on Sunday. I ask him and he said yes. Yesterday my husband told me that since we were going to Denver for the Super Bowl we didn't need the satellite hook-up anymore and he was thinking of calling and having it disconnected right away. I said OK. Today he told me the satellite will be disconnected tomorrow.
We have now unplugged one thing from the grid. That is as far as I am willing to go.
Update: I guess the satellite is going just in time. I just spend five minutes watching Juggling Championship 2004 on ESPN and I am ashamed to report that I now know what a single, a double, and a triple mean.
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