I don't feel happy unless i have a big stack of books by my bed. I tend to buy three at a time, and usually read one fiction and one nonfiction, plus a journal concurrently.
Right now there is:
Sex Matters: From Sex to Superconsciousness by Osho
Red Thunder & Red Lightning by John Varley
Pillow: Exploring the Heart of Eros by Lily Pond
The Tale of Tom Kitten by Beatrix Potter
Complete Sonnets by William Shakespeare
The True Game by Sher S. Tepper
The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett
What books are by your bedside table?
November 28, 2007
November 26, 2007
Talking to myself
“Blessed are we who can laugh at ourselves for we will never cease to be amused.” - anon
Some things I know about myself:
I am self reliant, self sufficient, and self supported.
I am self employed - I get to choose my OWN eighty hours a week.
I am self disciplined, extremely organized & efficient.
I have self worth, self respect, and self esteem.
I self pleasure, I am self satisfied, I am self contained.
I am self actualized, self fulfilled, and self regenerating.
I am frickin' lonely.
Years ago, in one of those true, new age hippy dippy santa cruz crunchy granola moments, I decided to marry myself. I loved my boyfriend dearly, but realized at some point we were never going to hear those wedding bells.
So I wrote some lovely vows to myself, bought myself a beautiful, expensive diamond & opal ring set in white gold, went to the ocean for a ritual with myself, and witnessed myself promising to love myself.
Well, time went on & I realized I was pretty bored with myself. Not wanting to cheat on aforementioned boyfriend, I decided to have an affair with myself. Every time he took a shower, I reached for the hitachi. Ditto when he mowed the lawn. It got to the point when my affair was taking over my life, and I caught myself sneaking off at parties to do myself in the bathroom.
Of course, once I stopped putting energy into my real relationship... well, that’s another story. So I found myself by myself, feeling all lonely and bitter, and wondering why I was single. Then it occurred to me - I wasn’t available! I was still always with myself!
So I divorced myself. Yep, went back down to the ocean, thanked myself for all the wonderful gifts from the relationship with myself, and chucked that expensive-ass diamond ring into the ocean. I still wonder who will it find it.
I love myself and I’m still best friends with myself, in fact, right now, I’m going to go play with myself. If you don’t think I’m a complete kook, come play with me sometime... I’m finally free!
Some things I know about myself:
I am self reliant, self sufficient, and self supported.
I am self employed - I get to choose my OWN eighty hours a week.
I am self disciplined, extremely organized & efficient.
I have self worth, self respect, and self esteem.
I self pleasure, I am self satisfied, I am self contained.
I am self actualized, self fulfilled, and self regenerating.
I am frickin' lonely.
Years ago, in one of those true, new age hippy dippy santa cruz crunchy granola moments, I decided to marry myself. I loved my boyfriend dearly, but realized at some point we were never going to hear those wedding bells.
So I wrote some lovely vows to myself, bought myself a beautiful, expensive diamond & opal ring set in white gold, went to the ocean for a ritual with myself, and witnessed myself promising to love myself.
Well, time went on & I realized I was pretty bored with myself. Not wanting to cheat on aforementioned boyfriend, I decided to have an affair with myself. Every time he took a shower, I reached for the hitachi. Ditto when he mowed the lawn. It got to the point when my affair was taking over my life, and I caught myself sneaking off at parties to do myself in the bathroom.
Of course, once I stopped putting energy into my real relationship... well, that’s another story. So I found myself by myself, feeling all lonely and bitter, and wondering why I was single. Then it occurred to me - I wasn’t available! I was still always with myself!
So I divorced myself. Yep, went back down to the ocean, thanked myself for all the wonderful gifts from the relationship with myself, and chucked that expensive-ass diamond ring into the ocean. I still wonder who will it find it.
I love myself and I’m still best friends with myself, in fact, right now, I’m going to go play with myself. If you don’t think I’m a complete kook, come play with me sometime... I’m finally free!
After shock
Last night
you asked me
why I cried
Heaving naked sobs
against your chest
What can I say
except
After the earthquake
Tsunami
you asked me
why I cried
Heaving naked sobs
against your chest
What can I say
except
After the earthquake
Tsunami
November 25, 2007
Sooner or Later
Sooner or later a person begins to notice that everything that happens to her is perfect, relates directly to who she is, had to happen, was meant to happen, plays its little role in fulfilling her destiny.
When she encounters difficulty, it no longer occurs to her to complain—she has learned to expect nothing, has learned that loss and frustration are a part of life, and come at their proper time—instead she asks herself, why is this happening?… by which she means, what can I learn from this, how will it strengthen me, make me more aware? She lets herself be strengthened, lets herself grow, just as she lets herself relax and enjoy (and grow) when life is gentle to her.
Strengthened by this simple notion, simple awareness, that life is perfect, that all things come at the proper moment and that she is always the perfect person for the situation she finds herself in, a person begins to feel more and more in tune with her inner nature, begins to find it easier and easier to do what she knows is right. All chance events appear to her to be intended; all intentional actions she clearly perceives as part of the workings of Chance.
Anxiety seldom troubles her; she knows her death will come at its proper moment; she knows her actions are right and therefore whatever comes to pass as a result of them will be what was meant to happen. When she does feel anxiety, she realizes it is because of that thing she’s been meaning to do but hasn’t been done, some unfulfilled relationship she’s been aware of, but… She perceives the anxiety as a message that she’ll have to stop hesitating if she wants to stay high…
(author unknown)
When she encounters difficulty, it no longer occurs to her to complain—she has learned to expect nothing, has learned that loss and frustration are a part of life, and come at their proper time—instead she asks herself, why is this happening?… by which she means, what can I learn from this, how will it strengthen me, make me more aware? She lets herself be strengthened, lets herself grow, just as she lets herself relax and enjoy (and grow) when life is gentle to her.
Strengthened by this simple notion, simple awareness, that life is perfect, that all things come at the proper moment and that she is always the perfect person for the situation she finds herself in, a person begins to feel more and more in tune with her inner nature, begins to find it easier and easier to do what she knows is right. All chance events appear to her to be intended; all intentional actions she clearly perceives as part of the workings of Chance.
Anxiety seldom troubles her; she knows her death will come at its proper moment; she knows her actions are right and therefore whatever comes to pass as a result of them will be what was meant to happen. When she does feel anxiety, she realizes it is because of that thing she’s been meaning to do but hasn’t been done, some unfulfilled relationship she’s been aware of, but… She perceives the anxiety as a message that she’ll have to stop hesitating if she wants to stay high…
(author unknown)
November 24, 2007
First Response
Wow.
I just got back from a trippy experience. I took my kid out to dinner at our favorite restaurant. Each with our book, we ordered our usual artichokes, spinach salad & chicken nuggles. Out of the blue, quite calmly and in a low voice, a woman said, "Call 911 - Please call 911".
I looked up & saw an elderly gentleman slumped in his chair. I walked up & said I knew CPR and reached for his throat pulse, finding none. I looked at the lady next to him, who was clearly terrified. "We need to get him onto the ground."
I put my arms around his shoulders and he slipped hard onto the floor, first his tailbone, then his back. Suddenly his eyes flew open & he started speaking in French. Since he was clearly breathing, I knew I didn't have to do mouth to mouth, just stay present. I looked in his eyes & rubbed in back, murmuring in French that he was going to be all right, everything was fine.
He started gagging and I called the waiter to bring a bowl, anything. The poor guy started barfing beyond belief, and I just continued to baby him. I looked up to see my kid across the room, watching with big round eyes.
The paramedics came in and took over. I went back to my table, pretty damn shaken. Thank goodness I took CPR this summer. Thank goodness I happen to speak a little french. "Are you okay?" I asked my kid.
Clinging to my arm for just a moment, all she said was, "You're my hero."
Wow.
I just got back from a trippy experience. I took my kid out to dinner at our favorite restaurant. Each with our book, we ordered our usual artichokes, spinach salad & chicken nuggles. Out of the blue, quite calmly and in a low voice, a woman said, "Call 911 - Please call 911".
I looked up & saw an elderly gentleman slumped in his chair. I walked up & said I knew CPR and reached for his throat pulse, finding none. I looked at the lady next to him, who was clearly terrified. "We need to get him onto the ground."
I put my arms around his shoulders and he slipped hard onto the floor, first his tailbone, then his back. Suddenly his eyes flew open & he started speaking in French. Since he was clearly breathing, I knew I didn't have to do mouth to mouth, just stay present. I looked in his eyes & rubbed in back, murmuring in French that he was going to be all right, everything was fine.
He started gagging and I called the waiter to bring a bowl, anything. The poor guy started barfing beyond belief, and I just continued to baby him. I looked up to see my kid across the room, watching with big round eyes.
The paramedics came in and took over. I went back to my table, pretty damn shaken. Thank goodness I took CPR this summer. Thank goodness I happen to speak a little french. "Are you okay?" I asked my kid.
Clinging to my arm for just a moment, all she said was, "You're my hero."
Wow.
Label Spices, Not People
My parents are not American, and we have never celebrated thanksgiving, so I was rather surprised when my mom called to see what I was up to today. I told her I was fixing my leaky toilet she volunteered to help, and bring lunch. Cool enough.
On arriving, she gave me an article on happiness from entitled “The Four Love Personalities: knowing your type is the key to a better relationship.” A friend's response was to move beyond labels. I pondered this on my morning walk.
What purpose do labels serve? Beyond distinguishing spices, I mean. What labels to you identify with? Dom, sub, top, bottom, gay, straight, bi, curious, poly - we use a lot of labels on line, striving to define ourselves in certain ways.
I have always considered myself bi, but do I really define myself by who I am fucking? Or my politics? I identify with being a switch, and definitely as queer, but have moved along the rainbow spectrum from lesbian seperatist to tresbian (tranny loving lesbian, and french for very good, get it, tres bien) to limerick queen of the universe.
For a long time I thought of myself as a single mom, so I was single, and a mom. Thoughts create reality. Now I'm putting myself out as available, fun, mature, experienced, and a roller skating babe. Life is good, and only getting better.
Other labels I resonate with feel like ingredients to the soup that is Lady of Delights: Witch, Priestess, Healer, Astrologer, Guide, Business Woman, Office Manager, Independent Contractor, Homemaker, Gardener, Teacher, Artist, Dancer, Friend, Confidant, Lover, and of course, most recently, Blogger...
On arriving, she gave me an article on happiness from entitled “The Four Love Personalities: knowing your type is the key to a better relationship.” A friend's response was to move beyond labels. I pondered this on my morning walk.
What purpose do labels serve? Beyond distinguishing spices, I mean. What labels to you identify with? Dom, sub, top, bottom, gay, straight, bi, curious, poly - we use a lot of labels on line, striving to define ourselves in certain ways.
I have always considered myself bi, but do I really define myself by who I am fucking? Or my politics? I identify with being a switch, and definitely as queer, but have moved along the rainbow spectrum from lesbian seperatist to tresbian (tranny loving lesbian, and french for very good, get it, tres bien) to limerick queen of the universe.
For a long time I thought of myself as a single mom, so I was single, and a mom. Thoughts create reality. Now I'm putting myself out as available, fun, mature, experienced, and a roller skating babe. Life is good, and only getting better.
Other labels I resonate with feel like ingredients to the soup that is Lady of Delights: Witch, Priestess, Healer, Astrologer, Guide, Business Woman, Office Manager, Independent Contractor, Homemaker, Gardener, Teacher, Artist, Dancer, Friend, Confidant, Lover, and of course, most recently, Blogger...
November 17, 2007
You're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you
| You might think I'm watching But really I'm just raising An eyebrow... |
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