Saturday, December 27, 2008

moments in the morning...

I feel like I'm waltzing through a fictional story where the plot continues to thicken, and the scenes are changing too rapidly for me to keep up with. As I flip through the chapters, searching for any kind of foreshadowing, I can't seem to find which page to turn to. I keep hoping that the next paragraph will have me reading that my rent is still due on the first, i'll walk down the street to get coffee in the morning, i'll run my usual route up and down and all around Belmont Blvd., I'll go to work, have all of my friends at my fingertips, and I'll continue to enjoy my favorite luxuries (such as my beloved kombucha tea). However, the rising action only has me in disbelief as I stare at photos of my new apartment in Seoul, the school where I'll be teaching, and a collection smiling Korean children. I'm starting to have my randomfreakoutcryingmooshmyfaceinapillow moments that are coupled with bouts of ridiculous excitement. It is a weird place to be in as I vacillate between such extreme highs and lows. Yet, I'm refusing to let myself drown in an emotional muddle. As the days quickly count themselves down, I'm trying to do anything that will contribute to having the best day of my life, everyday. I refuse to leave with having a single regret and therefore I have been doing anything that I would have previously held back; it has been unnerving but wildly refreshing. People in my life need to know that they have value... that they are amazing... that I admire them... and that I think the way light and warmth radiate from their hearts is beautiful. Through this process, my pride has become a little black and blue, but my heart feels as though it is beating through an endless cadence of euphoria. This isn't to say that I've left all of caution, I have only acted through certain situations where normally I would have been too scared and too shy. This is my life that I have been so richly blessed with and while everyday is a chance to add another page to my autobiography, I will not let my story be anticlimactic.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

love is not what you see in the movies. although, sometimes it feels that way...

(Disclaimer: Again, my enter button is broken...I'm sorry about my huge, chunk of a post). This morning while I drank my coffee and ate sticky oatmeal at Bongo, I eavesdropped intently with my eyes on a couple enjoying breakfast together. They were aged slightly older than my parents but not as far into life as my grandmother and grandfather. Minute by minute the sun slowly woke up by inching its rays up the man's face. Unaware of the eye strain the sun caused him, the woman happily sipped at her latte while he would lean in closer to carry on their conversation. Their breath puffed out sharp clouds of laughter in the brisk outside air, as they couldn't keep their eyes on the sections of the newspaper they shared. In between sentences, words, the man would break his gaze, forcing the woman to put down her paper and answer to his endless parade of wit. I can only assume they chatted over election results, how much better organic produce tastes, and the newest, crazy antic that their dog came up with last night. The picture of the two caused my own eyestrain. In the back of my mind is a memory of back home. A couple, aged perfectly to have a 24 year old daughter, sitting apart in a dimly lit room. They argue over watching Star Trek or Trading Spaces until one surrenders and goes to bed. This is how I remember them: no newspapers, no morning coffee under a ceiling of sparkling Autumn leaves, no laughter, nothing magical and nothing special...anymore. My Bongo couple finished breakfast and the woman inhaled her last espresso sip. Her husband, as I noted by his tarnished ring, grabbed her around the waist and whisked her into a goodbye kiss. In my haphazardly placed happiness to witness love but simultaneously feel slightly sick, a friend, whom I haven't seen in a few months, broke the moment. His smile was ridiculously refreshing and after a long, heavy, but great conversation, my heart felt warm and rekindled. Love, in all of its powerful forms..including friendship, is not simply important...but is a necessity, like the heart pumping blood to every facet of the body. In our goodbye, the canopy of trees rained with yellow leaves, trapping everyone sitting outside in a storm of fall weather. I was, of course, thankful to be having the best day of my life...

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

morning moping.

i haven't written in six months. obviously. there are moments when i feel prompted by a spark of motivation to type up something read-worthy; however, i only get left with a half-dozen or so half-assed and half-written attempts. as i usually write in every sporadic blog entry, i am SERIOUSLY going to make more of an effort to update fractures of my daily journeys. i also blame my barren blog due to the recent death of my computer's enter button. May it rest in peace...and may you, dear reader, get through my long, chunk of a post. Much of what i write, whether it be in blog form, a letter, a journal entry or even a silly note-i rely heavily on spacing. there is something oddly comforting to me when i write and i can consistently break-up a page rather than fully commit to an adequately sized paragraph. there have definitely been a few interesting changes in my life-some exciting and some not so exciting. wor⋅ry
   /ˈwɜri, ˈwʌri/
verb, -ried, -ry⋅ing, noun, plural -ries.
–verb (used without object)
1. to torment oneself with or suffer from disturbing thoughts; fret.
2. to move with effort: an old car worrying uphill.
–verb (used with object)
3. to torment with cares, anxieties, etc.; trouble; plague.
4. to seize, esp. by the throat, with the teeth and shake or mangle, as one animal does another.
5. to harass by repeated biting, snapping, etc.
–noun
6. a worried condition or feeling; uneasiness or anxiety.
7. a cause of uneasiness or anxiety; trouble.
8. act of worrying.
9. Fox Hunting. the action of the hounds in tearing to pieces the carcass of a fox.
—Verb phrase
10. worry along or through, Informal. to progress or succeed by constant effort, despite difficulty: to worry through an intolerable situation. (I hate not having a functioning enter button!) i wake up and everyday begins the same: my feet shuffle over to my coffee pot and i begin to prepare my internal alarm clock. the extremities of my body function on auto pilot since my brain has not plugged in the wires that connect them. when my coffee is finished, my hands automatically know the correct ratio of rice milk to swirl into the mug. i silently hope that my "borrowed" internet will grant me connection and i jump from site to site, slowly waking up. Then it happens... yesterdays worries flood my mind and my heart rate rapidly increases. The chair creaks from my shifting and squirming and i try to find anything to distract me from yesterdays mistakes... yesterdays shouldn't-have-saids... and yesterdays wish-i-would-have-saids. As the sun comes up, I peel my banana down and quickly my blood sugar spikes from the fruit's high glycemic index. the sugar pairs with the acidity of the coffee and endorphins flood my bloodstream. a calming blanket drapes over my shivering nerves; i wrap myself in it's warmth. bliss conquers worry and my anxiety transitions to thankfulness. i'm reminded, every morning as i'm given a new sunrise, that i'm ridiculously lucky and overwhelmingly blessed. then i decide... every day... over and over and over again... today will be the best day of my life.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

I feel strange. The feeling is somewhat like noticing sticky hands; you wonder how it is even possible to acquire a random substance that coats the delicate skin between the fingers.

The hand stretches and the fingers attempt to part from each other, peeling slowly in opposite directions. Meanwhile your eyeballs shift around all of the surfaces that the hands could have possibly touched, trying to assess what could have caused the foreign, finger-filth (sorry.. I'm a sucker for alliterations).

I don' t know what to say or do or how to even begin formulating a plan in my seemingly weak thoughts.

I feel like I've consumed cup after cup of coffee... that I slept on my neck in a contorted way... that I stubbed my toe... or that hit my elbow right on the most sensitive tip of the joint. The news came to me as a shock.. but now my heart simply feels like it has a bad head cold.

Surely this post sounds dramatic..but truly this is what I'm experiencing in my life right now and this is my small attempt to blog more often.

I do know, inside and out, that just as it is easy to wash off sticky fingers, situations always have a way of cleansing themselves...

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

I'm not good a blogger. I suppose I'm stating the obvious considering my last post reads from Nov. 3... and it is now well into March.

The problem, I believe, lies in the blank box dedicated for one's post. It is daunting to me. I keep a personal journal where I have no problem recording my monotonous and trivial thoughts; however, when I am attempting to create a blog post, the cursor teases me, saying, "What's next? Oh..and by the way... no one will want to read this."

This blog was originally created to record my vegan transformation.

As much as becoming vegan is fascinating to me (honestly I get excited to scrutinize food packages and read aloud chemical additives in twinkies) it is assuredly a ridiculous feat to others that always prompts the question, "What in the world do you eat?", coupled with a gaping mouth and other forms of body language labeling me weird.

The question to me now is... is this blog really an outlet for myself? I guess it entirely can not be so if it is open for public viewing.

Therefore.. this is my final post strictly related to my veganism. Enjoy.

I have been vegan since September 1, 2007. It has been 6 months of growing.. changing... failing... starting over etc. Yet, it has been one of the best decisions that I have ever made for myself. Everyday I feel that I learn something new: a brand of juice I enjoyed contains dairy... a certain type of bread that I thought was vegan is made with a whey product... and the ONLY vegan thing available at Carrabba's (I don't work there anymore though...) is salad.

Let's make beef: We will need 2,500 gallons of water, 35 lbs. of topsoil,
12 lbs. of grain and the energy equivalent of one gallon of gasoline to produce one pound of feedlot beef! It would take a complete dumb ass not to agree with me that this is just a lil' bit wasteful.

Also, 70% of US grain production is fed to livestock. I love me some livestock (I grew up on a horse farm..yay and nay) but there are quite a few people starving in our world.

A final thought: Our country's petting zoo creates ten times the waste produced by the human population. WOW. That is a LOT of poo.

Enough of my preaching because I'm probably just as guilty as everyone else. Yet I feel that we can at least TRY to do something about all of this... which is one of the main reasons that I made my decision (I'm not even going to start on the free health benefits...).

Even though I often feel so small and I question how just little me, one person, can make any kind of a difference.

Yet, I have decided that if I just carelessly continued on without any attempt to change, then nothing will be accomplished... no matter how small of an effort or contribution it may be.
*******************************
Small update:

I have gone from Starbucks.. to Carrabba's... to Borders.. and now to...
Whole Foods.

I am so happy. I start on Saturday.
*******************************

This is what I'm currently reading:



and



Both women are amazing writers and their words are challenging me in two entirely different ways.

I think I'm done for today and hopefully I'll post again before four months go by again :)

Have a good day and don't get lost.