tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69012805675075954272024-03-05T20:10:09.721-08:00whichwaydidshego(discovering the way and knowing the she)whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-3816531120265613392015-01-28T20:45:00.000-08:002015-01-28T20:54:55.951-08:00Learning with The Doctor...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I haven't been active on this site in a very long time, but I have been taking a class on Coursera.org called Learning How to Learn. It's been a fascinating journey, and this is my second project. I hope you will indulge me, and have a laugh while you're at it. Thanks!</div>
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<a href="http://youtu.be/5ZEHmLG-EPo">Follow this link</a> to see my video project, which just happens to me my first ever video on YouTube... Ack!</div>
whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-42649175585025719952011-01-20T13:30:00.000-08:002011-01-20T13:39:56.999-08:00Be the change you want to see.<p>I take such joy in finding ways to live a more ecologically friendly life, odd as that sounds. Each time I discover a new way of living wisely I feel a sort of delight that isn’t easily taken away. </p> <p>Just yesterday, ironically minutes after my final load finished, my back-ordered <a href="http://www.gaiam.com/product/wonder+ball.do">Wonder Ball</a> arrived, a way of using less or no detergent and getting things clean. I can’t wait to use it! I already started using the <a href="http://www.gaiam.com/product/static+eliminator+2+per+box.do">Static Eliminator</a> instead of dryer sheets. I had no idea how many chemicals were in those little sheets! But when I think of a lifetime of using them (even if I was someone to use half of one per load), I’m embarrassed by the waste.</p> <p> One of the great things about having these items for laundry, besides the environmental benefits, is the money saved. The Wonder Ball lasts for 2,000 washes and the Static Eliminator for 500 washes. For a single woman with not a lot of laundry, that’s a long time.</p> <p>The other thing that is great about using these products for the lifestyle I’m working toward is that they travel well. I don’t have to buy small packages of products I don’t even know if I can trust because that’s all that is available, or alternatively I don’t have to carry bottles or boxes of detergent around.</p> <p>Another item I purchased part way through the year is a <a href="http://www.classicshaving.com/Safety_Razors.html">safety razor</a>. This is going old school, and I love it! The razor I chose was the <a href="http://www.classicshaving.com/catalog/item/522941/7039833.htm">Vintage Butterfly Safety Razor with Gun Metal Finish</a>. Does that sound like me or what? It's pretty hot to look at, and gives a nice, close shave. <br /></p><p>I will say it takes some getting used to. After a lifetime of shaving with those disposable things, using quality takes practice. You don’t need to push for one thing. Nor do you take fast, long strokes. It’s just as easy, mind, but it’s a different way. When done properly, it is the closest shave you’ll ever have. And the waste is almost nil. Plus, it’s purdy.</p> <p>Some changes I’ve implemented over the last year or so:</p> <ol> <li>Only reusable shopping bags. (If I don't have them with me I go without or don't buy.)</li> <li>Only handkerchiefs. (So, so much nicer on your nose!)</li> <li>Only cloth napkins. (This includes always carrying one with me for restaurants without them.)</li> <li>Rags instead of paper towels. (Best change made - works much better and you don't realize how often you use paper towels.)</li> <li>Always use my own container for coffee and other drinks. (Again, don't buy if don't have a container with me.)</li> <li><a href="http://lunapads.com/divacup/diva-cup.html">DivaCup</a> instead of tampons, <a href="http://lunapads.com/pantyliners/thong-pantyliner.html">LunaPads</a> instead of liners. (I cannot believe I hadn’t heard of these before! So much more effective, more comfortable, and healthier!)</li> <li>Never plastic utensils. (Again, proper silverware carried with me.)</li> <li>Ending all catalogues and junk mail. (So easy and so few do it.)</li> <li>Changing to non-disposable razor with replaceable blades.</li> <li>Laundry detergent and dryer sheet alternatives.</li> <li>An <a href="http://www.sonystyle.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?productId=8198552921666257815">eReader</a> instead of books; an <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Iomega-Portable-Drive-SuperSpeed-USB2-0/dp/B0041RSI1G">external hard drive</a> instead of DVDs.</li> </ol> <p>I’m not militant about any of this, don’t impose my ways on anyone around me (beyond blogging), and when in other’s homes I use what they have. But for me, all of these have been really easy changes. And I feel great about them.</p> <p>Obviously, there is so much more I could be doing. And I’m working toward quite a few new changes. But I also won’t be so over-the-top about it that I can’t enjoy things with people. For instance, the one and only time I used a paper coffee cup last year was when I was out with a friend and we drove to the coffee shop in his vehicle a mile away from my car with my cup inside it. I was out to have coffee with a friend on a schedule. It was to be my treat. Of course I ordered something, and we had a lovely visit.</p> <p>I hope this inspires someone – even just a little. It started small with me, just the shopping bags, and expanded from there. But these changes, they feel good. It may seem small, all this… one little person, what can she do? But you know what? I know that last year because of my changes a tree or two less were used for wiping my nose on or cleaning up a spill. I love trees. Simple as that.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-42315363756042324322011-01-15T00:00:00.000-08:002011-01-15T01:42:01.398-08:00The gypsy in me.Today I awoke a bit healthier than I have done in the last week or so. But what I awoke to was a longing for the visceral again. For actually seeing the world. Walking it. Interacting with it. Tasting it’s flavors. Understanding bits of it. Definitely appreciating it. <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3KdMSBbZ6RzUBO2JpSLNaN3mziq6CMxdatupgUQs9RM2frouzXQsjCB6gb2jcKhzU-b7O08aF2oUs4buoT65fPtQLsudwKe2e257kXRJyg3A8cRkp36S6-DDz75YwEUlvm8pvTTmMH85p/s1600/world.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3KdMSBbZ6RzUBO2JpSLNaN3mziq6CMxdatupgUQs9RM2frouzXQsjCB6gb2jcKhzU-b7O08aF2oUs4buoT65fPtQLsudwKe2e257kXRJyg3A8cRkp36S6-DDz75YwEUlvm8pvTTmMH85p/s400/world.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562338074111092802" border="0" /></a>When I get this feeling at this level, it actually physically hurts that I'm not attaining it. It’s the deepest, most intense longing in me. It goes beyond even the desire for companionship. </p> <p>It’s not about making my mark on the world. My time here on this planet, in the scope of all of history and all that is to come, is miniscule at most. It’s about BEING in it. Experiencing it. Knowing, <em>truly</em> knowing, the wonder of it during these moments I'm privileged to be in it. Glimpsing it’s beauty in this moment. Marveling at the cultures I encounter. And touching as much of it as I possibly can.</p> <p>This. This is what drives me. What feeds me. I spend my time downloading books to my reader or films to my external hard drive in anticipation of the first step of this journey. Yet, in reality when I go I won’t give a crap about these things. I’ll care about engaging with what is around me. Not what is made to entertain. (Not that I obviously don’t enjoy these things… but they often can dilute the preciousness of the moment as well as suck time from this sacred interaction.)</p> <p>I used the word “sacred.” I do see being deeply engaged in each moment as spiritual encounter – as the most profound way to honor the divine, or at least to honor this mysterious gift called life.</p> <p>But I digress. This drive, this desire for a nomadic existence is both marvelous and maddening. How do I support myself financially is the most trying part to figure out. (Yes, I am open to suggestions – and especially connections.) </p> <p>It is isolating, too. Many people I meet think it’s a great dream, but then have a lot of negative comments about it. They even become angry. I do understand. They have made choices in life that have allowed them to walk away from their dreams. To encounter someone who still holds to theirs is not always comfortable. It is only hard when I get discouraged and haven’t someone who believes in me and my goals to encourage me. (I’m so very grateful I have a few wonderful women who do that for me now. What a true blessing.)</p> <p>Whatever this wayfaring passion is, it is my objective; my goal. my <em>future</em>. I just wish so much I knew how be in it now rather than always, ever “moving towards it.”</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EficDh-xVsIYVVT_GH8BhRVPHWLfwMCql-UARv_0JBCdJVVW_x-WGF47Ngz6Pr-U8tZHJmZlC48syLPo3HUesAs9Q0a3U9scITTGzPYdRwk5AYZbePEe40140mSfEGvtEMSK-N5KqcZu/s1600/walkingalone_redroad.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EficDh-xVsIYVVT_GH8BhRVPHWLfwMCql-UARv_0JBCdJVVW_x-WGF47Ngz6Pr-U8tZHJmZlC48syLPo3HUesAs9Q0a3U9scITTGzPYdRwk5AYZbePEe40140mSfEGvtEMSK-N5KqcZu/s400/walkingalone_redroad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562345051406515842" border="0" /></a></p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-48277298771025411352011-01-05T18:00:00.000-08:002011-01-05T18:30:04.429-08:00The weight of me.<span style="font-style: italic;">I thought with the New Year I would start afresh. An invigorated focus on my goals in life brings me back with a new look for the blog and a refreshed sense of purpose for my writing. But first, a reflection…</span> <p>The last few months I have had some personal breakthroughs I didn’t even know I was needing. (Sometimes those are the most awe inspiring.) These epiphanies have centered me as never before. </p> <p>What it comes down to is a knowing myself completely at the deepest levels of my being. Really being good with who that is. This is an all-encompassing knowing; a resting in and embracing of my whole self. This includes recognizing and appreciating my place in the journey of life, loving my body just as it is, and being both contented with and excited about my spiritual path with the wrestling and expanding it involves.</p> <p>This sounds so corny, really. But it was born of coming the other side of an intense trauma after finally truly healing. In that final emergence from the dark waters of that churning ocean of betrayal, despair, and brokenness I was lost in, with that first step on dry land I felt the weight of me. By that I mean I knew the depth of my courage as well as just how intense and incredible my strength is. That was my “grounding.”</p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRPg3LQlpIxQJpELU880Y0GIIFInInl6EwIGZGJ7KVmHzd0za8q87XN4W1KuFPm-MDBzVN20Kea-VN1jUB2boaU7nnsDKH4azHA15mFjXP3VPCwx9yiwd06FMfx2RfEc4kHwb3x2QEpaHA/s1600/ocean-storm.jpeg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRPg3LQlpIxQJpELU880Y0GIIFInInl6EwIGZGJ7KVmHzd0za8q87XN4W1KuFPm-MDBzVN20Kea-VN1jUB2boaU7nnsDKH4azHA15mFjXP3VPCwx9yiwd06FMfx2RfEc4kHwb3x2QEpaHA/s400/ocean-storm.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558880230797620834" border="0" /></a>One interesting thing about that ocean: you feel so overwhelmed in the depths of it when you can’t see the shore as the waves are pounding you and threatening to take you under, but the very hardest part is when you finally stand in the shallows of the tide and are taking that long walk to the beaches. Because you feel the sand between your toes as you step, you think you are on land, so the effort is all the more frustrating as you fight to bring your legs forward through the eddying riptides. Never have you worked so hard, yet you don’t realize you really aren’t out of it yet. It’s only on that first step out of the waters that you find that true freedom.</p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Q_zAsIctEPnkFydfy_zQBFmP6q4o1FTiPqfKdKfItC912IcFQkz9LUNcZ77k0eW4MsUpboq4OHwpHt4tIpoLGD8dyvA22LO3yTCD67IXZhddMlHDZWf0PIicZ2Rzfg0IGbH-xLJjECPk/s1600/out+of+the+ocean.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Q_zAsIctEPnkFydfy_zQBFmP6q4o1FTiPqfKdKfItC912IcFQkz9LUNcZ77k0eW4MsUpboq4OHwpHt4tIpoLGD8dyvA22LO3yTCD67IXZhddMlHDZWf0PIicZ2Rzfg0IGbH-xLJjECPk/s400/out+of+the+ocean.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558880230365973554" border="0" /></a>And that’s the moment you know. You know just how fierce you are. You know it’s not an invincibility but an endurance. You feel your strength in every molecule and know… that you can. Who you are is enough – more than enough. Whatever comes next, strenuous and painful or freeing and joyful, will not be beyond you. You can.</p> <p><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/419143.Edith_S_dergran">Edith Södergran</a> said:</p> <blockquote> <p><em>“My self-confidence comes from the fact that I have discovered my own dimensions. It does not behoove me to make myself smaller than I am.”</em></p></blockquote> <p>I know my own dimensions now. In fact, I OWN my own dimensions. I revel in them. So I walk tall. Because I am tall.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-54015405409590995142010-10-10T01:19:00.000-07:002010-10-10T01:25:10.950-07:00Love (supposedly) happens.<p>I just watched a film tonight on a whim. It was called “Love Happens.” It was a good film in that it had a depth I didn’t expect and wasn’t the rote Hollywood love story. For me however, what was glaringly obvious was that in my life love doesn’t seem to happen.</p> <p>In the end, what I saw was the lack of it in my life. In the past I have idly wondered about how people have love more than once in their lives. At the conclusion of this film I <em>felt</em> the frustration of the main character experiencing the potential for real love a second time while I can only long for it just once.</p> <p>It’s hard not to think how much I must lack as a person to not ever have been very near it. Mostly, though, at the moment I feel envy for those who find it so easily. I even envy the potential pain – because I know that it is only possible to experience deep love if you risk greatly.</p> <p>Perhaps that is the problem. I know the risk it takes. Therefore in the past when I’ve decided to trust, I dove in the deep end with an open, vulnerable heart – expectant and ready. Finding out after all that talk of oceans that they didn’t know how to swim, or at most only wanted ankle deep waters, made it hard to want to keep climbing that ladder to the high dive board.</p> <p>But I would again. If someone would talk of oceans once more. It seems they no longer do. Not to me.</p> <p>So do I see this as a reflection of how unworthy I am? Do I just keep moving forward, pretending-until-I-believe that life without love is still great? Do I give up the biggest portion of who I am to be someone who is more accessible in order to have it? Or do I keep hoping that someone I can be crazy about will cross my path who will love me – as I am? Because honestly, hope is exhausting, and quite frankly, after nearly 42 years, unfulfilling.</p> <p>I know, I know – I’m not being very positive. I’m sure I’ll find that place of graceful patience again. But for tonight I’m childishly covetous of you who have love and am generally discontented with my life lived thus far without it. Just for tonight, while still trusting the journey, knowing love happens is a horrible reality rather than a wondrous possibility.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-27358588585009737352010-09-15T01:15:00.000-07:002010-09-15T01:21:07.279-07:00Timing is everything.<p>Hope. That’s what this is. I’d forgotten. Or at least, I’d forgotten the pleasant side of it. This last month, being out of touch, I have been discovering hope again… in the strangest of ways.</p> <p>I suppose it had been building for a while, leading me to this place of feeling again. Then I had a couple weeks where suddenly I was feeling all the pain of the traumas of the last five years – all at once. It was nearly unbearable, but I knew that if I could feel this pain, if I could find a way to walk along with it, then I could again feel love and have passion and find… hope. I just didn’t want to be numb anymore, but until then didn’t have the tools – the pain and heartbreak – to be free of the anesthesia. </p> <p>The thing about pain is that without feeling it we can’t feel anything. Not really. Certainly not deeply. Overwhelmed, I had flipped that switch to “off” in order to deal with the fallout of various extreme situations that I was bombarded with in rapid succession. However, by the time I wanted it turned on, I couldn’t reach it. I was so far from it wandering in that darkness, I couldn't even see it.<br /></p> <p>When I then all these years later unexpectedly backed into it, I was blinded by the light. It was incapacitating to experience so much emotional pain all at once. Now my heart has adjusted. (I’m so grateful.) And I find I have passion again… so much of it! Yet, now it it tempered with wisdom and experience, so it is a fuller and a more beautiful sort of passion.</p> <p>I’m not saying everything’s perfect, and frankly I hope I never will say so – how boring that would be! I am saying I feel [internally] prepared for what may come. More, I am moving toward it with anticipation while still endeavoring to be present even in these duller moments.</p> <p>As this hope builds, and more specifically as I complete my few remaining (time consuming) projects, I will be much more consistent with my blog entries… and I would imagine they will be getting more interesting as I enter into the flow of, well, my destiny.</p> <p>Here’s hoping…</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-69737952668018359282010-08-17T20:00:00.000-07:002010-08-17T20:00:01.151-07:00What I found.Over the last weeks while researching other things I've come across some pictures that made me laugh at...<br /><div style="text-align: center;">the whimsy<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM1B5_uN8ea7F4QIid7dYsnu3nKlnoxURBpDzuI1I1b00K32JwHsjZw1eyxKZ-3VUDzj53Q2LoKkc-wz1Llt8t9lTXPoipHeE1eyhbkXV-m36IB30Z0LyrdfGYelaTxdITlKOzr1tywFhE/s1600/boy+in+puddle.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM1B5_uN8ea7F4QIid7dYsnu3nKlnoxURBpDzuI1I1b00K32JwHsjZw1eyxKZ-3VUDzj53Q2LoKkc-wz1Llt8t9lTXPoipHeE1eyhbkXV-m36IB30Z0LyrdfGYelaTxdITlKOzr1tywFhE/s400/boy+in+puddle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506252626595483842" border="0" /></a>the irony<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg281k6si-Qe9K0lCZduKE2QIdQ8TsXkj1El9yIIVPhBysws83RWK-bOZv4e2TiV8MlOzybVOHW1vAqia8rbaNC0DPocT5fQRvyOvSYn2iHq5hzcssmsRQtYHKaOO5yMqYzPD2Ubcit4uKv/s1600/bp.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg281k6si-Qe9K0lCZduKE2QIdQ8TsXkj1El9yIIVPhBysws83RWK-bOZv4e2TiV8MlOzybVOHW1vAqia8rbaNC0DPocT5fQRvyOvSYn2iHq5hzcssmsRQtYHKaOO5yMqYzPD2Ubcit4uKv/s400/bp.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506252602219050738" border="0" /></a>the sweetness<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPxMbhPsMV1omYJjb9jxidlJepu3Ose9CVY4ofzTB_cCAMFQXic4d7OapAwMfGVM2QGH5pT33eQoLyczWMe8SqC2I6R4LQZQ4eVWWLswDxk8Yry3vbMUHGpb1RZzzXA7yQzcnxfxtAGNg/s1600/funny-dog-pictures-alone-street-rain-storm-waiting.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPxMbhPsMV1omYJjb9jxidlJepu3Ose9CVY4ofzTB_cCAMFQXic4d7OapAwMfGVM2QGH5pT33eQoLyczWMe8SqC2I6R4LQZQ4eVWWLswDxk8Yry3vbMUHGpb1RZzzXA7yQzcnxfxtAGNg/s400/funny-dog-pictures-alone-street-rain-storm-waiting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506252610019059842" border="0" /></a>the perpexity<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1lAS6NtXSDjEaCiomakDxlrsSThIBc61pPEM_cbTLAd6-PNzfi56r2QkAvbAARuv5n_xfssx72vuoV9m5Q9LvNWMzT7vKN8pZm2cWCPAt8YujzutWb70aJ1mISe1yfGrVVm1QZP5kj2_/s1600/strange-car-accidents-04.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1lAS6NtXSDjEaCiomakDxlrsSThIBc61pPEM_cbTLAd6-PNzfi56r2QkAvbAARuv5n_xfssx72vuoV9m5Q9LvNWMzT7vKN8pZm2cWCPAt8YujzutWb70aJ1mISe1yfGrVVm1QZP5kj2_/s400/strange-car-accidents-04.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506252614414636162" border="0" /></a>the hilarity<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIG20G7DzY3YF9CN3D5xMTIXuhKWM8_KYbFsSbrn9MiPpgbyDxvOJk0MZHEdPhPFXBNf4CEb7rHjXNBuJ44matCYAN6NO3EUS20IkNx8qz2_2pNe2mrDiTHJ4nji4fluH7oI8fXeyxyuk0/s1600/signs-1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIG20G7DzY3YF9CN3D5xMTIXuhKWM8_KYbFsSbrn9MiPpgbyDxvOJk0MZHEdPhPFXBNf4CEb7rHjXNBuJ44matCYAN6NO3EUS20IkNx8qz2_2pNe2mrDiTHJ4nji4fluH7oI8fXeyxyuk0/s400/signs-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506252623432561154" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: right;">...of life and us in it. Hope you laugh today!<br /></div></div>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-53357628642087067982010-08-16T22:30:00.000-07:002010-08-16T22:40:40.832-07:00The way here.I’ve been going through a bit of a transformation lately. It’s been a few years in the process, but the chrysalis is opening, and the view is great! <p>I think the most recent revelation in this evolution has been in finding that I’m sincerely content to be where I am while at the same time looking forward to all the years yet to come. I’m actually excited for 50, though not wanting to miss a second of all the years in between. </p><p>This is in contrast to how I was living. Internally I felt that there just wasn’t time – everything had to be rushed and was eminent because life was in fast forward. While I always was one to “suck the marrow” from life, this frenetic, whirlwind living I think really started after September 11th. Time froze while at the same time I felt like it went into overdrive. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgUVmJyBXr0Q0ueO19W-5oNcE8sAxmAD4djWUxxN5-oQFJXywkocXl-hOUDKPUIf_lpsiokxVRrbZTqjI4gywRjVwcicS-R-VCRZkWCSoEdL4Pjy5ybjhqcBkEYAzVcSt5Hl8LYuyyiek/s1600/todo_teleport.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgUVmJyBXr0Q0ueO19W-5oNcE8sAxmAD4djWUxxN5-oQFJXywkocXl-hOUDKPUIf_lpsiokxVRrbZTqjI4gywRjVwcicS-R-VCRZkWCSoEdL4Pjy5ybjhqcBkEYAzVcSt5Hl8LYuyyiek/s400/todo_teleport.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506240161034668274" border="0" /></a>I never got out of that gear – not really. Not internally. I was almost in a panic to do and see all that for which I hoped and planned. I knew my mortality and was putting all sorts of energy into racing against it. </p><p>Suddenly, though, I feel like I have time. I’m resting in knowing me; knowing I accomplish what I set out to do, so it will happen. In the mean time, I’m here. That’s kind of great. My mortality hasn’t changed, just my perspective on how to be with it. </p><p>There’s another level to this, too. It’s the whole thing about feeling and looking (and acting!) younger than I am... This has always been a fantastic thing in my book. (What woman doesn’t want to frequently be taken for 10 years younger than she is??) Now, however, I’m really quite proud and grateful to be my age. Because it took to here to be so grounded and solid in who I am. No thoughts of what others think or how my family might react. My perspectives and beliefs won’t be altered by other’s judgments... no matter how much I might love them. </p><p>Considering my world view is so far from my entire, very large and well loved, extended family as well as the community I was so vigorously involved in for my first 35 years of life – the only community I’ve known, in fact - that is an extreme statement. Their disagreements and judgments on my Weltanschauung won’t cause me to waiver from it. If I am very blessed, they might one day understand I haven’t left my faith – only expanded it. But I can’t concern myself with the reactions of others, positively or negatively, when it comes to this subject. I embrace and accept others where they are at... I don’t ask them to do it/think it/feel it my way. I try to meet them where they are at and hopefully I will grow by embracing and understanding them. </p><p>Now, to looking young... sure, it gets me in more places and gives me access to more people who wouldn’t normally talk to (or date!) someone my actual age, but I love what those extra years have brought me. Suffering. </p><p>Because it’s only when you come out on the other side of deep pain and loss, that engulfing kind of brokenness, that you know your true strength. You know how deep your courage runs. Your footing there is solid and unwavering. You know yourself utterly. And can rest in that. </p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-6dtsLYlD_N9M3aZLDLY4okpGdOabxX0zrPqgc34519rS7HJm6uDrVKZacZbuth5rPLBaSk8rrtx5ux-ll9ReqDuUsuDs5CDl1QD9v87qjNh7XTn9AgdQUHiu7zSGXcXq1K4K50_J3jv/s1600/WomanLantern2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-6dtsLYlD_N9M3aZLDLY4okpGdOabxX0zrPqgc34519rS7HJm6uDrVKZacZbuth5rPLBaSk8rrtx5ux-ll9ReqDuUsuDs5CDl1QD9v87qjNh7XTn9AgdQUHiu7zSGXcXq1K4K50_J3jv/s400/WomanLantern2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506245011146760962" border="0" /></a></p> <p>When you get there, to that place of peace with the ever-present pain, you will find real joy and passion again (likely in fits and starts, but you will find it). In fact, it will be richer because of the freedom taming such a ferocious beast brings. You will be full. </p><p>What a miraculous place to be. Hooray for aging!</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-55195438353690760002010-08-12T00:00:00.000-07:002010-08-12T00:00:02.550-07:00What they mean.Words. I never realized how much I prize them. The look of them; the sound of them. Where they come from; how they came to be. Why they mean what they do. I love words. <p>Specific words. <em> Elegance. Passion. Art.</em> They hold pictures. <em>Home. Family. Friends. </em>They hold emotion. <em>Adventure. Faith. Live. </em>They hold hope.<em> Explore. Connect. Create.</em> They hold my soul. <em> Love.</em> It holds everything.</p> <p>Even in my art, words are vital. I love having them around me. To look at. To consider. To embrace. </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQmv_cISGysNwGkBv5iJoJ3o3LfGghtjzWuuVGlag5J6uQemPez-3MJN2y3X0MagnM_2CiIv9oMzz5pwN8kHHbLhR19-fVB-JjiubNAc2kLW5voyaXplvLRCxKbiZzKDBw5TA26qNxn_5/s1600/words+are+love.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 334px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQmv_cISGysNwGkBv5iJoJ3o3LfGghtjzWuuVGlag5J6uQemPez-3MJN2y3X0MagnM_2CiIv9oMzz5pwN8kHHbLhR19-fVB-JjiubNAc2kLW5voyaXplvLRCxKbiZzKDBw5TA26qNxn_5/s400/words+are+love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501826177463927410" border="0" /></a>I guess this demonstrates what I value. A story. How it is told. The words it uses. A person. How she describes herself. What I see in her. What it communicated. And faith. Sharing hope, asking for help, expressing gratitude… all in words.</p> <p>Perhaps because I am physically separate from all of my friends and most of my family, the depth of meaning that words take on is even greater when a hug cannot be had or a laugh cannot be heard. A word can be felt. They have texture. I feel them.</p> <p><em>Verve. Vivacity. Vivid.</em> They are favorites, and hopefully me.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-81881974346464004022010-08-11T00:00:00.000-07:002010-08-11T00:00:06.748-07:00Where we love.My wonderful friend Courtney is getting married today to the love of her life, Rebecca. In the world I come from, this would not be okay… but I don’t think it’s okay that when two people find that rarest and most illusive of things, deep and abiding love, that anyone would ever take issue with their union. That they have to go out of state to legally make this bond is very sad, indeed. I am acutely grateful they have such grace as to embrace this forced journey rather than begrudge it. <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8kZ7YaJqXSdLG8l7eD5Kiyd8lKsw2LJsDc8s1rwX59oMsXssGodj3hTpqXbUh5XlR8QgQ8fsBqotWy6BRPzGCP_ZJSEw4hTe-2cxw3O3QNziskzRhOabF4nmKICyjAlhKGsDU7aokOrwD/s1600/lesbian-wedding-rings-2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8kZ7YaJqXSdLG8l7eD5Kiyd8lKsw2LJsDc8s1rwX59oMsXssGodj3hTpqXbUh5XlR8QgQ8fsBqotWy6BRPzGCP_ZJSEw4hTe-2cxw3O3QNziskzRhOabF4nmKICyjAlhKGsDU7aokOrwD/s400/lesbian-wedding-rings-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503314880298779410" border="0" /></a>I have had few friends in the course of my life who have given to me as much as Courtney has over the last few years. She has been a light. She has supported me in so many, and to me, miraculous, ways. In short, she has been a friend. But in truth, she has become a sister. </p> <p>We have shared so much with each other during this time, but what was so beautiful to me as I got to know her was HOW she and Rebecca loved each other. It is protective and gentle, yet fierce and vibrant. It is both tactile and cerebral. It is comfortable and natural, yet intense and passionate. But most of all, it is true and enduring.</p> <p>I am so thrilled that today they join together in this way; that they commit to each other openly and lastingly. How magnificent! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYzb5AuusHqIxWkZO0UJtH4MFKNSlHCMTxOCkqXj1CalDtv8AjNU5_h_PUQ8_udF6vln_iptgkWziQeObW2KOke3lOPHEUJ2-7fcigdId57Yxqvi2lawZTmI-uWOkMfQCVaeG6Z3fjt8E_/s1600/courtney+%26+rebecca.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYzb5AuusHqIxWkZO0UJtH4MFKNSlHCMTxOCkqXj1CalDtv8AjNU5_h_PUQ8_udF6vln_iptgkWziQeObW2KOke3lOPHEUJ2-7fcigdId57Yxqvi2lawZTmI-uWOkMfQCVaeG6Z3fjt8E_/s400/courtney+%26+rebecca.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503315427428017906" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Deep joy, great peace, and lasting hope I wish for you both as you begin your journey together... you already have abiding love.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;">With all my heart.<br /></p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-25160508260980624342010-08-10T00:00:00.000-07:002010-12-12T15:44:15.767-08:00Ten on Tuesday.<span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">It's been a while since I've done one of these. I sort of morphed questions from a couple different entries on the "official" list site into this one list because a lot of times the questions just didn't apply to me. Hope you enjoy this "get to know me" post - and I'd love to know the answers some of you all have to these as well!</span><br /><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">1. What is your favorite summer television show? </p><p>Probably Psych. It never fails to make me laugh – usually hard. But after the last episode, Memphis Beat has caught my attention in a big way. Though not a comedy per se, I’m STILL laughing at parts of that one! And it has great music, too. </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">2. If it was raining so hard on a Saturday that you couldn’t leave your house, what would you spend the day doing? </p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLko760RZzzXmX8nQJMH5Q6pYfNLRO5s7e2nEfCUWquQrCM8idjBOwW-x99urgT1ktow4-GXcJuAj22Tib5P1HogQ5nD5LbMwLETA5HZwAVbp6CXwQmPCuz-OhLwbqNFPWUuptZghMa_t/s1600/img-set.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLko760RZzzXmX8nQJMH5Q6pYfNLRO5s7e2nEfCUWquQrCM8idjBOwW-x99urgT1ktow4-GXcJuAj22Tib5P1HogQ5nD5LbMwLETA5HZwAVbp6CXwQmPCuz-OhLwbqNFPWUuptZghMa_t/s200/img-set.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502870363623380082" border="0" /></a>It would never rain so hard that I couldn’t go play in it! (I’d jump in puddles, go for a run, maybe even go sliding in the mud, or simply taste it on my tongue. And yes, I've been out in a hurricane.) But my favorite thing to do after coming in from playing in it is to cozy up with a good book, a cup of cocoa or a really exquisite tea (depending on the book), and if I’m lucky a fire... and listen to the tattoo of the rain while I sink deeper into the comfy chair. (I neither have a comfy chair nor a working fireplace, so this really would be an indulgence!) </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">3. What was your favorite candy as a child? </p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-ZbMJbSqxzAeN1Wn4q9DVYWrMnmBM64SHYM7SK5HLPL2kESAQqxjOiumAwwGKNMY_ZRW5o36AwRJkMrtbWc1abQbBtQdWhiVfWQPoI0t0EZJebUb7oNOa8UPWYxKfvcey8fFkG6VsRrN/s1600/chick-o-stick.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-ZbMJbSqxzAeN1Wn4q9DVYWrMnmBM64SHYM7SK5HLPL2kESAQqxjOiumAwwGKNMY_ZRW5o36AwRJkMrtbWc1abQbBtQdWhiVfWQPoI0t0EZJebUb7oNOa8UPWYxKfvcey8fFkG6VsRrN/s200/chick-o-stick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502868981847492562" border="0" /></a>I don’t remember, but I’m pretty certain it involved chocolate. Oddly, I remember my brother’s favorites, though. Oh! But my favorite thing to get with my “treat ticket” at the “snack shack” after a little league game was Chick-o-Stick. Soooooo fantastic! </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">4. Did you get an allowance? What was it based on? What did you do with it? </p><p>You know, I must have, but I honestly don’t remember it lasting long. I always had chores and responsibilities, though. </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">5. What is your favorite flower? </p><p>Peonies. Vibrant, sassy-yet-elegant, delightful, diverse... guess that sums me up as much as the flower! </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UeI6F7Jp2tKyNQXEPq7YOh2-6iYteUQL10jNUopJSvC0bjnvCp3oJGqMbSgdwCkvkxSHZMpXBmjbccoYrYgVuio86jr8FKBjJ3bzutYvA181_HX6TnzwAEhT6v-88qKCqRlYP_bA1cam/s1600/5808peonies.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 352px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UeI6F7Jp2tKyNQXEPq7YOh2-6iYteUQL10jNUopJSvC0bjnvCp3oJGqMbSgdwCkvkxSHZMpXBmjbccoYrYgVuio86jr8FKBjJ3bzutYvA181_HX6TnzwAEhT6v-88qKCqRlYP_bA1cam/s400/5808peonies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502870642773600818" border="0" /></a>6. Do you prefer time with family or time with friends? </p><p>Hmm. Most of my friends are very far away, so I covet that opportunity to spend time with them. I have a fantastic family with whom I love to hang out, but lately I’ve realized I’m not really that “in sync” with most of them both philosophically and because so many of them are married with families, so time with them is still good, but not what it was. </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">7. Looney Tunes, Tiny Toons, or Animaniacs? </p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0HcMKT-nfh1MU50chNmOcCHIoa8obDx8EKVU1D-cU8DiGuTNzOtdDRy7fExU30tDN4dbrBeDE6Jgttz3Nvs_hecc2BA183QXieN9U8KZ0dCxKjOWEbP3Y7llxeQgqnR-jd4enJ70eSyH/s1600/animaniacs.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj0HcMKT-nfh1MU50chNmOcCHIoa8obDx8EKVU1D-cU8DiGuTNzOtdDRy7fExU30tDN4dbrBeDE6Jgttz3Nvs_hecc2BA183QXieN9U8KZ0dCxKjOWEbP3Y7llxeQgqnR-jd4enJ70eSyH/s200/animaniacs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502868983439204994" border="0" /></a>Animaniacs – a gazillion percent. Enjoy all the original Looney Tunes, but never ever liked Tiny Toons. </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">8. Best daytime talk show: Oprah, Ellen, The Doctors, Tyra (ha!), Dr. Oz, or Dr. Phil? </p><p>I’ve never seen any save the first two, and of those I’d choose Ellen for sure... but honestly if I’m watching TV in the daytime for whatever reason, I’d rather watch a rerun or something I’ve tivoed or a video. Oh! Or Craig Ferguson on the computer! But Ellen is great, I must say. </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">9. Would you rather have the power of invisibility or the ability to fly? </p><p>Well if I were really to choose a superpower, it’d be teleportation... but of these two, I’d choose flying, hands down. The only thing being invisible is good for, it seems to me, is stealing things... or prank scaring people. </p><p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">10. Name 1 thing you love about being an adult. </p><p>The experience gained. The ability to be so solid in who I am. To know what I know and what I don’t know without being embarrassed or intimidated by either. To be comfortable in my skin and content in the journey. That’s more than one. Sorry. Okay – the experience gained (and the perspective that gives).</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-89402614850370040842010-08-09T00:00:00.000-07:002010-08-09T00:19:26.353-07:00Psyched out.My last installment of USA Network original shows is most certainly not the least. Psych is in the midst of it’s fifth season and is going strong. It is a different breed from all the other shows I’ve talked about, more akin to Monk… but sillier. And funnier. <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_WRfu0dm28NsnZPZpOun58gS0CiUVQhcfA5EGpKJQDFHPReOhNOIY8Q5Dq9iA8tQ1gnCxw54pmYpwbI8UbTsKs-PySoBfLyPsR5LiBKEgTEBhgtWNUbi3bSIE6_l1EZfeUiclOWEldjt/s1600/psych.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_WRfu0dm28NsnZPZpOun58gS0CiUVQhcfA5EGpKJQDFHPReOhNOIY8Q5Dq9iA8tQ1gnCxw54pmYpwbI8UbTsKs-PySoBfLyPsR5LiBKEgTEBhgtWNUbi3bSIE6_l1EZfeUiclOWEldjt/s400/psych.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503293036904269122" border="0" /></a>Shawn is a guy who was trained all his life by his cop dad to notice details, quizzed incessantly during his childhood, he was groomed to be a detective. Gus was his uptight best friend. But Shawn was too much of a screw off (likely because of his dad’s zealousness) and didn’t go the cop route. But with his skills he could solve crimes. One day he got blamed because he knew too much when he called in a tip, so thinking fast, he claimed to be psychic. Then he went and spent Gus’ money to create Psych Detective Agency.</p> <p>Shawn and Gus are at the heart of the humor. There have been episodes where I couldn’t breathe for laughing so hard – where I had to go back and watch again because I missed what came next, but before I got there I was again laughing too hard and missed it again. The humor is a lot about pop culture, some about 80’s references since that was their childhood, and then just their general bizarre-best-friends humor. Admittedly there are times when I cringe for their being too ridiculous, but mostly I just laugh. Hard.</p> <p>Their relationship, though, is something to behold. Dulé Hill (from West Wing) plays Gus, and he is the yang to James Roday’s slacker Shawn. It’s this ongoing battle with an intense bond going back years. The struggle and the tension meshed with the history and the camaraderie is what really makes this show work. </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzXrHehHWTYGbKiJghkvlMcf_lUjrlID5JBC0T9XVjSPiQnjqucR8fB23SP_KltZ2Hcc7-k-CLjfBo-ZAmfsRw1gNb4bcu2Gep-Fj0xgbpPK-R327Ixfv2G0OuW70aXOkPTs0a7-GVTtZ/s1600/psych-060713.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzXrHehHWTYGbKiJghkvlMcf_lUjrlID5JBC0T9XVjSPiQnjqucR8fB23SP_KltZ2Hcc7-k-CLjfBo-ZAmfsRw1gNb4bcu2Gep-Fj0xgbpPK-R327Ixfv2G0OuW70aXOkPTs0a7-GVTtZ/s400/psych-060713.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503293038718881074" border="0" /></a>Corbin Bernsen (from L.A. Law) plays Shawn’s dad who often begrudgingly or unknowingly helps, when that’s the last thing he wants to do because he thinks his son is not taking anything seriously in life, etc. The detectives that regularly (have to) work alongside Shawn and Gus (as they have been contracted to work cases with the police) are hilarious, too.</p> <p>There is so much about this show that is right. When the show The Mentalist stole the premise but made it more “legitimate” as a drama instead of a comedy, the characters of Psych even poked fun at it. This season they’ve even been poking fun at themselves; at how they have Shawn figure things out. I love it!</p> <p>I’ve debated sharing one of my favorite scenes ever, but I don’t know how it would work without a little background of the characters and the start of that episode… you just can’t get how off-the-wall funny it is without having the scene set.So I’ll settle for this quote from a recent episode:<br /><br /></p><blockquote>(Detective) Juliet: Who ever said work was supposed to be fun?<br /><br />Shawn: Ron Jeremy for starters… but that’s beside the point.</blockquote><br /><br />It was just in the middle of nothing, and plenty of fine, upstanding folks won’t get it… but it slayed me.<p></p><p>If ever there was a show for ridiculous fun, it’s this one. If you’ve never tried it, give it a chance. It might be too low-brow for you, but you might just love it.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-74948220911064883912010-08-08T00:00:00.001-07:002010-12-12T15:49:37.583-08:00Looking good.I discovered this amazing program when organizing my eBooks. It’s called Calibre. It’s free and amazingly works with all eReaders, including Kindle from what I understand. (So if you have one, you should check it out!) <p>It does all sorts of things, including converting files into whatever is best for your eReader. But most of all, it organizes… so therefore I’m in love with it. It’s like iTunes for books – only better!</p> <p>One of the features it has is a book cover scroll through option, like album art in the afore mentioned iTunes. I really had a lot of fun when setting up my library choosing the coolest covers to use. I thought I’d show you some of the best.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOANH83KyOg0Uu8nSaAPObFwJgPPp2HFGcPsleRWfptb4J0PqgAIu3W3zxuAPU4klkc92d13lbjpm4fpIv3vE99hA_-_DitN-Kq1svRjBZpsjq3-ngZxvhEV-jxgEVvCJb6vh0VPPyQxc/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOANH83KyOg0Uu8nSaAPObFwJgPPp2HFGcPsleRWfptb4J0PqgAIu3W3zxuAPU4klkc92d13lbjpm4fpIv3vE99hA_-_DitN-Kq1svRjBZpsjq3-ngZxvhEV-jxgEVvCJb6vh0VPPyQxc/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501836358424261410" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">I think this cover makes the book look</span></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">far more interesting that I understand it is.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">Covers from the 1950's & 60's tell such great stories on their own.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMOLPvaDg1omZTG71G9MxS4K2-r1IBABVjQCws_BRSOhTqxxm6AVaVRSXtjFTozrvhnF9AZhnuoxT_a3U5fCKemaSRH8PNf8RXngQW-MZ-Yn-KVDfZt4xprqKnrSKaA4kbf2DL6nCuWxf/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 381px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMOLPvaDg1omZTG71G9MxS4K2-r1IBABVjQCws_BRSOhTqxxm6AVaVRSXtjFTozrvhnF9AZhnuoxT_a3U5fCKemaSRH8PNf8RXngQW-MZ-Yn-KVDfZt4xprqKnrSKaA4kbf2DL6nCuWxf/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501836362047005698" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0); font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);">I love everything about this. It's evoking.</span></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);">It's at once vintage and modern - my favorite combination.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"><br /></span></span></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWqXqF-zqPWc0zjHMxBM8kRQp0vHuvH2_VWSScN9a6XlDRoNCZ4yodWE-OxsfJ_lDz8z6-HtY30Fa21J4YOZlOerOvIdOA6tyl00HM5v5pf6pdzPSQ1a9PIWmOjok423uek12QO-NEJRq/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWqXqF-zqPWc0zjHMxBM8kRQp0vHuvH2_VWSScN9a6XlDRoNCZ4yodWE-OxsfJ_lDz8z6-HtY30Fa21J4YOZlOerOvIdOA6tyl00HM5v5pf6pdzPSQ1a9PIWmOjok423uek12QO-NEJRq/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501838348733036226" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);">I wanted to read this before, but now</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);">I'm dying to know what it's about!</span><br /></span></span></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUgd3QBTQ268pk0nb4q0xd0k8ue5iBZsKmoul4fo4Ji2NpyCF4mlUS-mb9ppF4Sgj7QcJkFoQbpQTUM3vmgYshXG7PAtKUXpX3vd27v1en3bgv6r_X4QejUK4kVD-t9jOu0JerCOkzjEZ/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUgd3QBTQ268pk0nb4q0xd0k8ue5iBZsKmoul4fo4Ji2NpyCF4mlUS-mb9ppF4Sgj7QcJkFoQbpQTUM3vmgYshXG7PAtKUXpX3vd27v1en3bgv6r_X4QejUK4kVD-t9jOu0JerCOkzjEZ/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501838358427154002" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"><span style="font-style: italic;">This is very much my style.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I can't explain why except to say at once it is<br />simplistic and visually impacting. It holds emotion.</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeiHOn2eQfuzOqzIEzMxZyNBDBLWuqNmII3v5WE7UTsjMSW1aNAbQaSXAIft8pQo58u3m9snjgwelBi9PFuIYebZCbYLrQNRq5JPA5pMhcuQbSYZ67tsw-0cOYVe7Op3JUFo1z0bM9hSm8/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 367px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeiHOn2eQfuzOqzIEzMxZyNBDBLWuqNmII3v5WE7UTsjMSW1aNAbQaSXAIft8pQo58u3m9snjgwelBi9PFuIYebZCbYLrQNRq5JPA5pMhcuQbSYZ67tsw-0cOYVe7Op3JUFo1z0bM9hSm8/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501841865367417522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 0);">Oh my gosh! Completely irresistible!</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsaGBOPbWhF_uA7GU617MnewUlM-UAt-2XsR19yI2wyWPzXVG4RCqJJWk_1yMCBTT2Emle-k2BCvggi_To2MeSAUozG3hjhV_pfUw0GxpS0GnCdSXTdxyWwlOb9gf1sh9zNKEs2pcIDsBZ/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsaGBOPbWhF_uA7GU617MnewUlM-UAt-2XsR19yI2wyWPzXVG4RCqJJWk_1yMCBTT2Emle-k2BCvggi_To2MeSAUozG3hjhV_pfUw0GxpS0GnCdSXTdxyWwlOb9gf1sh9zNKEs2pcIDsBZ/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501838354809334818" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51); font-style: italic;">Come on - this just interests me.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 153, 51);">Fascinated to know how this cool art<br />relates to the story.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV8e_AQm-22iCGJTsvWdxo_Sz4f7YtZG2txbXmp573T7iZLMHCg2-braANspfa0pFFIriKFideOuk2TQXOmCJqxnKgqnh9nXTnCN5Hn4P1GizH9Dl09f4NsTjysQaPFShyphenhyphenUpmbQo9OeGj/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV8e_AQm-22iCGJTsvWdxo_Sz4f7YtZG2txbXmp573T7iZLMHCg2-braANspfa0pFFIriKFideOuk2TQXOmCJqxnKgqnh9nXTnCN5Hn4P1GizH9Dl09f4NsTjysQaPFShyphenhyphenUpmbQo9OeGj/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501836364591512338" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">There is a whole set of these super-cool covers.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);">It was hard to select just one.</span><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyG5k49u3VOwo5tPt2Cl-PctQaZK4_leJ5OUb39OGunKYFnNfVGbI-IBRes00Ao1njZK_Jh1lgXDJI4urRhC4dzp1L5Lm7McsN_zcs7iOqR7_PnFqf9sHXe3JRPD_w6lAA0CJEGqTQZFLR/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyG5k49u3VOwo5tPt2Cl-PctQaZK4_leJ5OUb39OGunKYFnNfVGbI-IBRes00Ao1njZK_Jh1lgXDJI4urRhC4dzp1L5Lm7McsN_zcs7iOqR7_PnFqf9sHXe3JRPD_w6lAA0CJEGqTQZFLR/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501840237775828866" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;">So graphic, it expresses so much...<br /></span></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZR48cxGWCg73FiJRm2hGoZvHupfKwpWhc29HLxlg9E602OrrZ9CjGK20oIfEQroaeQlc15j6sKVSeHkMxQfPU_qg7MXhtVM-90vN-jMG93_nuDsMK3dLrnHC9Kxgl4F6u_3zmIvtvloWv/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZR48cxGWCg73FiJRm2hGoZvHupfKwpWhc29HLxlg9E602OrrZ9CjGK20oIfEQroaeQlc15j6sKVSeHkMxQfPU_qg7MXhtVM-90vN-jMG93_nuDsMK3dLrnHC9Kxgl4F6u_3zmIvtvloWv/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501840246834457538" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);"><span style="font-style: italic;">This one is actually a picture of the book<br />with a reflection of the Guinness sign at a pub<br />in Ireland (author is Irish) - fabulous!<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sj_DU5HE9OPwMiTuUYPDTQig320J-WFjf3erfrBDrVudSxaD8M3xLczemjdzH40B0KgP2yEuDzAlVSeXG78cU3QgKDwjbJxYEbiWI1VhyphenhyphenWeSi8WNefHmSd-uX8_nPRBPCo7U5T8Ds9ac/s1600/cover.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sj_DU5HE9OPwMiTuUYPDTQig320J-WFjf3erfrBDrVudSxaD8M3xLczemjdzH40B0KgP2yEuDzAlVSeXG78cU3QgKDwjbJxYEbiWI1VhyphenhyphenWeSi8WNefHmSd-uX8_nPRBPCo7U5T8Ds9ac/s400/cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501838364997309810" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"><span style="font-style: italic;">This was an early cover which is<br />apparently much sought after...<br />with good reason in my opinion.<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">It was really hard to keep it to only ten, I found so many interesting ones.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Love to hear what you think of them! </span></div><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></div></div>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-54165871185731523632010-08-07T00:00:00.000-07:002010-08-07T00:00:05.504-07:00On a role.<p><em>In honor of my brother’s birthday (because he’s a fan), I’m talking about Burn Notice today.</em></p> <p>Burn Notice has been around a few seasons so you may have caught an episode here or there. It was the first of these clean, fun shows with characters that are relatable because they grow and have emotional depth. </p> <p>This one is about a spy, Michael Weston, who was wrongfully kicked out (burned) and is trying to make it right. To make money he works different jobs helping people in the kind of trouble the police can’t help with. There’s lots of explosions and cool “jobs” in this one. I love how with voiceovers they sort of explain the MacGyver way of getting it done as a spy, often with a touch of humor. </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58ArkXsBgvy2GKjSnDqej1ukMhyphenhyphenfw8FVaK1oRRhHXGoQSKO13ekaq2IEiqbNrjPzPcJlrcbWKEQ1pNdGJHppygPC1J3x52hcV-Fslw-zLpK0BzLX5FOlEg_HzlGtdWVtgQVvWm9YKZdLp/s1600/burn-notice-online1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58ArkXsBgvy2GKjSnDqej1ukMhyphenhyphenfw8FVaK1oRRhHXGoQSKO13ekaq2IEiqbNrjPzPcJlrcbWKEQ1pNdGJHppygPC1J3x52hcV-Fslw-zLpK0BzLX5FOlEg_HzlGtdWVtgQVvWm9YKZdLp/s400/burn-notice-online1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502546483370126098" border="0" /></a>The show is clever in many ways, not the least of which is how they keep the audience coming back when Michael never actually gets what he most wants – to be back in. But the relationships he builds, often begrudgingly because he wants to be back out there again without ties, really makes this show something special.</p> <p>For instance, they convey serious depth in the relationship with his mom who is played by Sharon Gless of “Cagney and Lacey” fame. There are so many nuances and adjustments on both sides – honestly it’s phenomenal writing as well as acting when it comes to their relationship and the perils it’s fraught with, yet how much they both fight for it.</p> <p>Another great element relationally are his two “sidekicks.” First, Sam, an ex-spy who once turned on him has now become the person he can really rely on to get his back. He’s a lot of fun, but no less complex than the rest. And Fiona, an Irish ex-girlfriend who was a bomb maker and general roustabout for the IRA. Somehow with that resume, she still has a heart. They are ever in this love-hate struggle, and it is always engrossing. But she and Sam are his crew, the two people he can count on… his best friend and his girlfriend.</p> <p>I’ve watched this in fits and spurts in recent seasons because it was too much into the jobs for the people in need and what compels me to keep watching is these relationships, but in the end I always get caught up. Because it’s worth it. And because it’s something other than hockey to talk to my brother about.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-9402751288798581202010-08-06T00:00:00.000-07:002010-08-06T00:00:04.318-07:00Reading revolution.For some time I was contemplating, then researching like mad, the potential purchase of an eBook reader. Two weeks ago I finally did do so… and it wasn’t a Kindle. <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBoyjzhQNd0S6brNQ_Pa3JU0ZgezTdh7pUiGaKSVeJn4lo2hKs2xy57xlYrmnkORUaffGJzgdo4S3JmBjphnL3yjt1MF1sgoOA6kMMD2Rkwl4SxNfC9xHJ-vSJgMzmu-qzZ-b8IvfqI0n9/s1600/colorful_books_2.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBoyjzhQNd0S6brNQ_Pa3JU0ZgezTdh7pUiGaKSVeJn4lo2hKs2xy57xlYrmnkORUaffGJzgdo4S3JmBjphnL3yjt1MF1sgoOA6kMMD2Rkwl4SxNfC9xHJ-vSJgMzmu-qzZ-b8IvfqI0n9/s200/colorful_books_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501809557496928146" border="0" /></a>I always thought I’d just never get into having a digital reader. I mean, I adore my personal (and quite large) library of books. It’s always been a dream to have a room in my home designated strictly for books and reading. (One day…)</p> <p>However, as I continued to prepare for moving abroad I kept looking at my bulging shelves of to-read books puzzling over how to manage accessing them once there. Do I re-purchase? Do I ship – there and back? Because books are such an important part of my life, it was a frustrating dilemma. </p> <p>Somewhere in the midst of that quandary, a digital book reader started to seem like a good option because even if I had to repurchase a book, it would likely be cheaper this way. When considering it a few years ago, it wouldn’t have been an affordable option, but now it seemed it might be.</p> <p>So, as is my way, I looked into every kind of reader I could discover. I read up on each of them, finding the benefits and disadvantages of each. What I realized was it really is about your personal needs and likes.</p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7mxNQuE2r0Z0l628wKwdVZDUJ66DRCbIwsAWG5D-G2YJeNVjQ_Hz-XPwZsRG9DZcnKTk-ZydQDMQ55xbvFDvpWn4-WvuYIBHkMJ1qsQDKH3K0b-8cgqBUnZ2WDIbOWRi-RhmwcNHJ6Fj/s1600/Sony+Touch+Reader.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7mxNQuE2r0Z0l628wKwdVZDUJ66DRCbIwsAWG5D-G2YJeNVjQ_Hz-XPwZsRG9DZcnKTk-ZydQDMQ55xbvFDvpWn4-WvuYIBHkMJ1qsQDKH3K0b-8cgqBUnZ2WDIbOWRi-RhmwcNHJ6Fj/s200/Sony+Touch+Reader.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501811158821432178" border="0" /></a>I purchased a beautiful Sony Touch eReader. It’s gorgeous. And red. :D (No, being red is not why I got it, but it definitely tilted me in it’s favor!) For me this was ideal. The biggest selling point was that I can underline and write in the margins of each book, which is my common practice, even in novels. But further, it’s fantastic to turn the page with my finger sliding across the screen as it makes it somehow feel more like a real book. </p> <p>The Kindle wasn’t at all ideal for two reasons beyond not having the options I just mentioned. First, in Europe where I'm planning to move, and elsewhere in the world, to download directly to the device without a computer costs considerably more. And I don’t mind using my computer anyway. Second, and much more vitally, because of Amazon’s proprietary system, you can’t download other forms of eBooks. There are hundreds of thousands of free books on Google Books that the Kindle doesn’t provide access to. To some that wouldn’t much matter, but I enjoy the classics and the majority of them are, in fact, in the public domain and therefore free.</p> <p>There are other fun features that caused the eReader to outshine the others for me, including the ability to group books in collections, but I think I’ve gushed enough. I will say, when comparing it to a Kindle side-by-side today, the only thing the Kindle seems to score higher on is that it’s screen is ever-so-slightly less glary. I’ve a feeling that has to do with the eReader being a touch screen, because Sony has been making these devices far longer (and is an electronics company rather than a book seller as well) and is therefore quite a bit farther along in perfecting and debugging. Besides, the shine factor really wasn’t such a significant difference and the eReader wins, in my opinion, in every other way.</p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHTVkx53w4V-LHPNDKuiqfs3pFSUEtPpkVPAmbr4EZAeCGIWWBhemd8_DZZ9C2gjaiNoFP0u27pCVTGEoBP4tY8vq0okY1jJ5Ew0Hsne7sKdUS1Cah99_phkjW_G60D4e8UIC_5BExkjt/s1600/woman_with_red_suitcase.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiHTVkx53w4V-LHPNDKuiqfs3pFSUEtPpkVPAmbr4EZAeCGIWWBhemd8_DZZ9C2gjaiNoFP0u27pCVTGEoBP4tY8vq0okY1jJ5Ew0Hsne7sKdUS1Cah99_phkjW_G60D4e8UIC_5BExkjt/s200/woman_with_red_suitcase.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501812427862180658" border="0" /></a>So for my lifestyle and future plans, the scales just about fell on top of my beloved Sony Touch eReader! As a side note, it’s really kind of great to think about how green this option is. Oh, plus it was on sale!</p> <p>I never knew how powerful it would feel to carry around a library with me. I swear to you, it’s absurd I know, but I am nearing 800 books – all free one way or another - on the device (in my defense, three authors take up about a third of that number)… and I love that at any time I can access any one of them. Oh, and I’ve been able to find over half of the titles on my shelves for free as well, so I’m overjoyed!</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-79295951121747526892010-08-05T08:00:00.000-07:002010-08-05T08:00:02.101-07:00Back in the game.<p><em>Wow! How did I get so far behind??</em></p> <p>Next on the list of USA Network original shows is Royal Pains. The premise behind it is a top ER doctor from New York was wrongly blamed for a patient's death and lost his job. This led to him loosing his fiancée and his home. Enter his his little brother who takes him to the Hamptons, drags him to a party, and as a result he becomes a concierge doctor for the ultra-rich. </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrqPsxaG3HENTSh75DGRWs3DdH0sTL3X0OP7swviQqVABbofRfuKDhdApwwlFdPEJ1VIDELD3xLYW_UHiD-jRT5z72_awlzoodwJpJBcxprDDcVNUF7DaHEaC-_AKNCclVOG_EhYK5jlm/s1600/royal-pains2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTrqPsxaG3HENTSh75DGRWs3DdH0sTL3X0OP7swviQqVABbofRfuKDhdApwwlFdPEJ1VIDELD3xLYW_UHiD-jRT5z72_awlzoodwJpJBcxprDDcVNUF7DaHEaC-_AKNCclVOG_EhYK5jlm/s400/royal-pains2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501879237868397666" border="0" /></a>The background out of the way, the characters in the show are a lot of fun. I’ve always liked the lead actor Mark Feuerstein, but honestly, though good, he doesn’t keep me watching. It’s his character Hank's little brother Evan who keeps me coming back. Evan is one of those people who drives you nuts, yet you find yourself in his corner time and again. He’s endearing, sometimes hilarious, and often frustrating. But the fact that his character grows and evolves is, yet again, what makes this show worth watching. </p> <p>I also find it refreshing to have a talented actress who is Indian playing the clever, compassionate physician’s assistant Divya. Not the most common casting. She is another character worth watching as she banters and manages her way through working with brothers.</p> <p>I must mention that this show has some well know actors guesting, like Henry Winkler playing the brother's father, Campbell Scott is the patron, then also Andrew McCarthy and Marcia Gay Harden have each been in it a few times. It's always interesting to see faces you know (and for me in the case of Campbell Scott to see a face I love!) bring something fresh to an enjoyable show.</p><p>Again, though, what sets the show apart is how the characters have to deal with, well, life. They live and work in a kind of wonderland, but they have to face normal everyday life issues. Most of all, they have to face themselves, their past, and family. Yet somehow the show is still light and fun and worth relaxing to.<br /></p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-3458183238559353982010-07-24T00:00:00.000-07:002010-07-24T00:00:02.973-07:00Three in a row.<em>Let’s not stop the writing trend now… more tv talk. Can you cope?</em> <p><strong>Covert Affairs</strong> is a new show with only the pilot and an episode under it’s wing, but it looks promising. A new, very green, spy is brought early from “the farm” to the agency. She is lead to believe it’s because of her linguistic abilities, but what she doesn’t know…</p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDtqTAAzHuebK_TGK6-_2SyyuO4KWZX1ZVtkt5Efz5Y6n9kbFpAZv4fM5O4GFgsQisrJGXSyVD95jPopII19ysbT1Emh_7JBn-x8lxrL1gm6kVAJM_AsqH-9VvDJehhQeDR9K9O0GiNEi/s1600/headline_1262987025.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDtqTAAzHuebK_TGK6-_2SyyuO4KWZX1ZVtkt5Efz5Y6n9kbFpAZv4fM5O4GFgsQisrJGXSyVD95jPopII19ysbT1Emh_7JBn-x8lxrL1gm6kVAJM_AsqH-9VvDJehhQeDR9K9O0GiNEi/s400/headline_1262987025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497003639534123298" border="0" /></a>This is another original show by the USA Network that focuses on relationships and how to deal with them while extraordinary circumstances are happening all around. Piper Perabo, another favorite of mine, is the lead role. She lives in the cottage behind her sister’s house, and her family doesn’t know what she does (they think she works at the Smithsonian). Her relationship with them looks to be one of the things she struggles to balance as she moves forward in this new career.</p> <p>But how she got to this point was a broken heart. And this broken heart turns out to be important because the man she loved was something more than what she thought. She doesn’t know this yet, but it is why she jumped the line, so to speak. With only two episodes aired, the reason behind why the agency wants her ex-boyfriend has not yet been exposed. However, she caught a glimpse of him when he saved her life, and now the wounds are open again. </p> <p>Without the life-saving and the spy stuff, how many of us get that? A glimpse at someone who reminds us of the one who hurt us and the floodgates of questions and emotions arise. She can’t share this, and we usually know better after we’ve zapped our friends’ patience with it all enough times. But we still ache.<br /></p> <p>Beyond that, dealing with a new job, feeling a bit behind because training wasn’t quite complete, building friendships in the workplace… all normal stuff we face. The extreme nature of her job is obviously the part where we let go of our selves as we watch, but in the various relationships and working out the kinks of a new job, we connect. So far I’m having fun with this one. It's real life, but with the adrenaline rush (and calamity) of a spy adventure.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-87554358930293731632010-07-23T00:15:00.000-07:002010-07-23T00:53:59.336-07:00Try, try again.<span style="font-style: italic;">As the writer's block continues, so to do the posts about television shows...</span><br /><br />The background of the USA Network show <strong>White Collar</strong> is that of an art thief caught by and FBI agent who, because of a girl, escaped with just 4 months left on his sentence, essentially doubling his initial sentence when the same agent caught up with him. I like that start. I like that the art thief will do something utterly absurd for love. Okay and,as an artist and an ardent art admirer, I like that he cleverly steals art (this, by the way, is not what he was convicted of). <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0cyc1L0zFIWPln1QUvFxEphxd7rze20YeVJcCqnsubOG6eEi3V6QCN8mH6kjcYL_YiwNLlAoICHLzwRDVas_Yuqx62aAJXstiT_ymOmKVZGBZm3xZHY3QcJVV0zV_8rE6q-DfQPZ5e9X/s1600/white_collar.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0cyc1L0zFIWPln1QUvFxEphxd7rze20YeVJcCqnsubOG6eEi3V6QCN8mH6kjcYL_YiwNLlAoICHLzwRDVas_Yuqx62aAJXstiT_ymOmKVZGBZm3xZHY3QcJVV0zV_8rE6q-DfQPZ5e9X/s400/white_collar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496995763390759090" border="0" /></a>The premise of the show is that to work off his now extended sentence, the thief ends up assigned to help the very agent that caught him in order to solve other high end white collar crimes – while wearing an ankle tracker with a two mile radius, of course. But then, two miles in Manhattan can take you pretty far! </p> <p>I really like the interplay between the agent and the thief as they try to find a trust level and become friends. Actually, with all the tugging of loyalties and complications of life, they end up trusting each other more than anyone else (save the agent’s wife) as they form a deep friendship. The the testing of this friendship, and the solving the mystery of the disappearing girlfriend, really drives this series. I enjoy the humor and the jobs the thief does “in the line of duty.” </p> <p>It’s a fun show, but the key is (again) the depth of the characters. Of course the premise of the show is far-fetched, and the scenarios therefore aren’t exactly every day occurrences (which is why they are so fun), but with great characters stretching themselves a little at a time for the sake of friendship, growing along the way, and grappling to find trust through it all, we the audience find our connection - and have an adventure along the way.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-78791767742355715362010-07-18T02:00:00.000-07:002010-07-20T03:43:31.023-07:00It's a start.So since I have writer’s block, what with all the trauma that has been stirred up and me being sick AND having (family) company, I thought I’d write about television shows. Specifically, those on the USA Network. Yes, it's called avoidance. <p>I’m a fan of most of their original programs. Some I enjoy more than others, but they all have interesting relationships with emotional depth, regardless of the premise of the show. I like that they have some intensity yet are funny, and basically “clean.” Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind shows with some smut now and then or some cussing, provided they have a good story and involving characters and relationships, but in this case it’s nice to just sit down and know you won’t be bludgeoned with all that extraneous stuff.</p> <p>The original series are: <strong>In Plain Sight</strong>, <strong>White Collar</strong>, <strong>Covert Affairs</strong>, <strong>Royal Pains</strong>, <strong>Burn Notice</strong>, and <strong>Psych</strong>. I chose to end the list with Psych because it is a show in it’s own category. The others follow a similar rhythm, even if they are wildly different in subject and style. Psych, however, is something wholly separate, and for me all the more fabulous for it.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDuOGMDy4m7YPl6x8aQ6QVlUb7wgm7xFur9FPlBwpaC6OgKWz3aHE6yrI9oTq0E_Uf_cTNHIk3UDwLetCyG2TORFQqAoEEpqMXb_AXlYbDTZPer3OBJ5hsR-q2B3UmM6GSylT6gI22Sf3-/s1600/in_plain_sight.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDuOGMDy4m7YPl6x8aQ6QVlUb7wgm7xFur9FPlBwpaC6OgKWz3aHE6yrI9oTq0E_Uf_cTNHIk3UDwLetCyG2TORFQqAoEEpqMXb_AXlYbDTZPer3OBJ5hsR-q2B3UmM6GSylT6gI22Sf3-/s400/in_plain_sight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495171270408219138" border="0" /></a>But today I want to start with <strong>In Plain Sight</strong>. Mary McCormack (love her!) plays the lead character of Mary Shannon, a tough, hard-as-nails federal marshal who has had to basically provide and care for her sister and mother for many years, having to be the adult when the adults didn’t step up. Her job is in many ways her salvation, helping to keep people in witness protection safe. This is in large part because of her dishy partner Marshall Mann (yes, that’s Marshal Marshall Mann), played by Frederick Weller, who is her best friend and counterpoint, being more sensitive and compassionate. </p> <p>The thing about Mary is that in all that cynicism and snarkiness, which is quite funny for the most part, she has a good heart. Marshall helps bring that out and reminds her that that’s okay now and then. The two of them together are a classic duo, though. There are lots of layers to their relationship, but it’s the kind of friendship that we’d all like to have… the kind with a knowing beyond words. </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLadpnStYWtIaADrMMPgJiXvw8qZNvAhcw5MpIac-AaK-IMwefhraPimwn1z_WeyA_OqtUT0Hu-tWwk-tF60sTUspoy2eE_n6kdsX0NmtP9sK86g7fujU0KMzk0GCbK-DjvssB8L2x4K8/s1600/in-plain-sight-20090724115010875.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLadpnStYWtIaADrMMPgJiXvw8qZNvAhcw5MpIac-AaK-IMwefhraPimwn1z_WeyA_OqtUT0Hu-tWwk-tF60sTUspoy2eE_n6kdsX0NmtP9sK86g7fujU0KMzk0GCbK-DjvssB8L2x4K8/s320/in-plain-sight-20090724115010875.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495169970541828178" border="0" /></a>There is a lot of depth of character and the dynamics of the relationships are not easy and are very real. In this way the show rarely feels contrived, because no matter how silly some of the scenarios might be to real life, the characters are real. They are us. They deal with crap in their lives, with difficult-nearing-impossible family relationships, with messing up in romantic relationships, with getting things all wrong and still wanting to be justified, with having to admit they are wrong and trying to mend things. This is why I love this show, and why the shows on this network all appeal to me.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-63686910606995951662010-07-08T15:30:00.000-07:002010-07-08T21:45:32.826-07:00The separation.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfNiN2JaL4uExXw2v-ZlpmwdZsLGmnG1xpjs34DpbBku9UJfIC13lqwt3pPWymFcvkCZ0enDHgMYTwo5RyDRxDwzhSbMfk43BFGAgAMw_Nc20dAV5-NkYuAHvSeYfuSlKX6Z0FWkmB7ww/s1600/alone-wallpaper.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 197px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfNiN2JaL4uExXw2v-ZlpmwdZsLGmnG1xpjs34DpbBku9UJfIC13lqwt3pPWymFcvkCZ0enDHgMYTwo5RyDRxDwzhSbMfk43BFGAgAMw_Nc20dAV5-NkYuAHvSeYfuSlKX6Z0FWkmB7ww/s200/alone-wallpaper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491668915568698402" border="0" /></a>Someone told me today how courageous I am. I had never thought of my decisions and actions recently as courageous until they said that. <p>I am a journeyer. In that, I see things differently than most. So, in the course of my experiencing God from the Christian perspective I was raised in and personally embraced, I continued the journey and found myself experiencing God beyond the limited ways and practices that are the habits of the church. </p> <p>This is an amazing and exciting path. However, it is also very lonely. You see, in embracing the Sacred Mystery (God with open eyes) I effectively broke my deep bonds with the community I have always been a part of as well as with my entire family. So suddenly instead of walking alone but still solidly belonging, I walk alone because I am alone.</p> <p>This is where courage was seen. In this act. It is not easy to be so disconnected. I am a person who thrives on and craves connections. It is so deeply ingrained in my being that it feels like it’s what I’m made for – to connect with others. The growth and understanding that comes from this is rich and true, but the love that exists in that acceptance is magnificent.</p> <p>I seek connections where I can, but just right now, with the exception of a few (amazing) online girlfriends, I am so very alone. There is no going back now that I’ve reached higher and farther in faith than a box of religion will allow, but do I have the strength within me to continue to be courageous… and alone?</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-48515400175230207832010-07-03T00:00:00.000-07:002010-07-03T00:52:22.128-07:00What happened.<p>Have you ever been so down that you just can’t seem to function? In that place, even breathing is hard. I’ve been there lately. </p> <p>This explains the downfall in posts, obviously. It’s hard to find a point of interest in your life when most things make you cry. I’m not vying for sympathy, but trying to explain how frustrating it can be. </p> <p>Yes, there were catalysts to this level of stress, and there were a lot more things that were waiting to surface as well. So when the current difficulties occurred, the latent pain broke free of it’s container. This is a good thing in the long run if I can face it all, but everything at once is overwhelming. </p> <p>So I apologize for my lack here on this blog, and I hope that you will stick with me. I’m working on moving forward, and this includes sharing my interests and opinions, as well as my heart here. Just scrounging for some hope. Thanks for understanding.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-25458570552978202532010-06-21T22:15:00.000-07:002010-06-21T22:32:39.939-07:00Reconnecting.My computer had a freak out recently and left me all alone. No communication with friends, no sharing my thoughts, feelings, and opinions with you, no downloaded TV shows, no DVDs, not even mahjong or spider solitaire! Oh yes, and no online business or knowing where and how to get to my next agency job! <p>Usually when I disconnect for a time, it’s a wonderful reconnection with aspects of the world with which I was less engaged while computing. However, in this case it wasn’t at all like that. Because it wasn’t by choice, I was rather lost. </p> <p>Is this dependence a good or a bad thing? Should I be appalled or pleased? I do have a ridiculous sort of love for this luscious laptop of mine. Possibly because I designed it’s specs myself… or perhaps because it’s red. ;) </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5GPkhNcUWgKD97uLmfa7JhRBFJBo2Drt70n8wm1uwV-qVklGHz7Ik3BnS456Dn82cmHTVm4gqACoVk3f74qQmhFDef5H5nJ_lJeZW1p400ljAlCAg7fHKYJlQNztF4n4Cq94W9Wf8cl7/s1600/dell+inspiron+1440.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5GPkhNcUWgKD97uLmfa7JhRBFJBo2Drt70n8wm1uwV-qVklGHz7Ik3BnS456Dn82cmHTVm4gqACoVk3f74qQmhFDef5H5nJ_lJeZW1p400ljAlCAg7fHKYJlQNztF4n4Cq94W9Wf8cl7/s400/dell+inspiron+1440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485466175955179218" border="0" /></a>Likely, though, most of all it’s because when I open it, I’m inviting in my friends. Sure there is a whole cyber universe to explore, but most of all it has given me, and kept me connected with, the most precious people in my life.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-7572893846988360162010-06-13T22:00:00.000-07:002010-06-14T01:28:37.603-07:00How we met.My good friend Elizabeth is taking part in an month long event celebrating Jane Austen. In honor of this event she asked if I would do a <a href="http://strange-and-random-happenstance.blogspot.com/2010/06/discovering-jane-guest-blog-post.html">guest blog post</a> for her outstanding blog <a href="http://strange-and-random-happenstance.blogspot.com/">Strange & Random Happenstance</a>. I was thrilled and took the figurative pen in hand. <p>The whole process got me to thinking about friendship. I mean, they are so very vital to our lives. Jane Austen shows us this in her wonderful novels. Whether family or neighbors, friendships are at the heart of her stories. And, too, they are so very essential to having a good and happy life.</p> <p>What I was thinking, though, was how Elizabeth and I connected. It’s so odd, and really rather wondrous, how these things can happen. It started, I suppose, because we both watched and liked a TV show called Gilmore Girls, but more specifically because we love reading. On a book and reading website called <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/">goodreads</a>, we both were taking part in a group on the site called <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/758.The_Rory_Gilmore_Book_Club">The Rory Gilmore Book Club</a>. But stranger still, it wasn’t until a conversation or three about the 10th Doctor Who that we connected.</p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2mV-ZKJctmUi8OHNE_iZjN-zrico6HVsYetjL3f8l1Fs5zUTyeYP8xHAaYejUEBltCs1gx4XcTPnHU26-01_L2PO5jhPLbtvefApRsLqdbBImtiK18m-Y0cpwQt0P33CBxAJeDbs6UkfI/s1600/Elizabeth.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 348px; height: 261px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2mV-ZKJctmUi8OHNE_iZjN-zrico6HVsYetjL3f8l1Fs5zUTyeYP8xHAaYejUEBltCs1gx4XcTPnHU26-01_L2PO5jhPLbtvefApRsLqdbBImtiK18m-Y0cpwQt0P33CBxAJeDbs6UkfI/s400/Elizabeth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482543126238167122" border="0" /></a>What’s amazing is how deeply we connected and in so many ways. How fantastic to make such a great friend in such an unusual and roundabout way! To be fair, I suppose it’s not all that unusual since this actually happened to me with one other person from that group on that site… Yet still, these two ladies are two of the most wonderful people I know!</p> <p>As to Jane Austen, well, I encourage any one that hasn’t done to read one of her books straightaway. You won’t be disappointed! And who knows, maybe you’ll find a friend or two along the way.</p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-18152069717409941352010-06-11T03:00:00.000-07:002010-06-11T03:42:37.210-07:00Catching the fever.Having lived abroad, I can honestly say there is nothing like the frenzied love of the sport we call “soccer,” but for which I will side with the rest of the world and call “football” from here on out. With the World Cup beginning today, I’m like a kid in a candy store with free samples – amped up and crazy excited! <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNUFAZI7WMhS7WQd-CSdsx37iz7Potu3JKR9lE1kzCQadIJpK0ez19GOOU_GMQiIon8uPGm9LhyphenhyphenNF6OVDqfpxbKrE50c1FptmWe_pz3Q6Jrui74JMIytYs5haSlBZ2qJmvB84qHhLHgMI/s1600/fifa_world_cup_trophy.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNUFAZI7WMhS7WQd-CSdsx37iz7Potu3JKR9lE1kzCQadIJpK0ez19GOOU_GMQiIon8uPGm9LhyphenhyphenNF6OVDqfpxbKrE50c1FptmWe_pz3Q6Jrui74JMIytYs5haSlBZ2qJmvB84qHhLHgMI/s320/fifa_world_cup_trophy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481457102170684658" border="0" /></a>When I was young, I played the sport for some time. Somewhere in the midst of all that, and while attending a San Jose Earthquakes game in which George Best played, I met the legendary Pelé. This man was something beyond the sport. He was exceptional, exciting, astounding to watch play, yet as a person he was kind, patient, and loved fun. And to him, that’s what it was all about, this sport of football: FUN. As a result he exuded exuberant joy even just kicking about.</p> <p>When the World Cup was played here in California, there was a buzz everywhere. You didn’t even have to know or like the sport to get caught up in the excitement of this world event. In preparing to make the world at home, different towns and cities “adopted” the various countries participating. The players from and fans of those teams would celebrate and hang out in their country’s town. My home town of Los Gatos adopted Brazil who became the champions that year. That was some intense revelry! I’d say it was not to be forgotten, but I’m pretty sure that many did just that the next day…</p> <p>However, it wasn’t until I lived in Italy that I UNDERSTOOD. This game played in about any other country in the world (excepting perhaps Asia) is not a game. Not really. The intensity, the passion is beyond what an American can comprehend. Imagine taking our love for American football, basketball, baseball, and hockey and polarizing them all into one sport. Add to this fervor a regional pride like you’ve never seen here with rivalries going back centuries starting with skirmishes long forgotten. Then times this by ten, and you might begin to get the feeling with which this sport is followed and played worldwide. </p> <p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2kPAoVPTR_1C5so2YC5mDpWE1oXgACZkuAEax3JWQn-md6ki2wlWTf0L6OzRRIud-Ap9QV2anN8bwt3QoC-y1PmAIhve89920b0fhUObIVD0diFoL9tc50SmFIejshkQTJ-RyGWjf3tU/s1600/ItaliaCampioneDelMondo_HUGE1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2kPAoVPTR_1C5so2YC5mDpWE1oXgACZkuAEax3JWQn-md6ki2wlWTf0L6OzRRIud-Ap9QV2anN8bwt3QoC-y1PmAIhve89920b0fhUObIVD0diFoL9tc50SmFIejshkQTJ-RyGWjf3tU/s320/ItaliaCampioneDelMondo_HUGE1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481460667820714194" border="0" /></a>It’s a lifestyle one follows there. In Italy, where I have first hand knowledge of the fierceness of their club rivalries and the riots that occasionally ensue, they even have a name for their national team – Gli Azzurri. When Gli Azzurri are playing, it doesn’t matter if the man next to you in the pub is a fan of one’s fiercest club rival, the frenzy and vigor of their love for their national team is so extreme that they are embracing and kissing cheeks in their extravagant joy or defending one another’s opinions when the team is not performing as expected.</p> <p>It’s a crazy, wonderful, strange, and magnificent thing, this rapture for the exhilarating sport of football. I hope a few of you will catch it!</p> <p align="center"><em>USA versus England on Saturday – the expedition begins!</em></p><p align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP3BVInBvqBZ2TfAJD_0DdfLdPqsqH7jA_MSi6wShnDoG_6OGtvEexmW3B9iXfJCiFxnpZcEVIjiZzYz_hpMpVFreF5ZKBgkYcFrhUu-Uc1aEDp9GS9rdDelVlq8QThX6LLHM3syEnW-Kz/s1600/england+us+world+cup.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 339px; height: 140px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP3BVInBvqBZ2TfAJD_0DdfLdPqsqH7jA_MSi6wShnDoG_6OGtvEexmW3B9iXfJCiFxnpZcEVIjiZzYz_hpMpVFreF5ZKBgkYcFrhUu-Uc1aEDp9GS9rdDelVlq8QThX6LLHM3syEnW-Kz/s400/england+us+world+cup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481464467113798082" border="0" /></a></p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6901280567507595427.post-83718958644691667792010-06-05T03:40:00.000-07:002010-06-06T03:23:19.745-07:00Like father like son.<p>I just now saw a lead in for a segment on a news show about a seven year old being taught to hate… they showed him holding a sign saying, “God hates fags.” The clip included the interviewer asking the parents the question, “What if he grows up and doesn’t agree with everything [you believe] anymore?” He’d be bounced out of the family – “that’s the Lord.” </p><p>After a moment of this sinking into not just my psyche but also my spirit, I wept. I wept deeply. </p><p>What this family is doing is horrifying on multiple levels. Employing a merciful and forgiving God (who IS love) to wield and spew hate is appalling and grievous. To indoctrinate their children into this hate-filled perspective is shocking and frightening. To believe one is righteous whilst judging others is above all angering and embittering. </p><p>I wanted to scream, yet could only weep. I wept for those whom with words they were wounding; I wept for their children who will have a difficult time of ever finding their own way and who might never know what unconditional love is like; I wept for how they were condemning themselves to a life, and (if one believes in such a thing) an afterlife, of misery and coldness; and without knowing it at the time, I wept for the children of a family I grew up with who suffered a similar, though in many ways more insidious, form of tyranny. </p><p>I wrote for several hours about this, detailing many things: My perspective spiritually, and how I feel they are so far from knowing who God really is. My feelings about their position on sexuality in the context of spirituality. My heartbreak at their absolutism versus, the beautiful alternative of love and understanding regardless of agreement. My feelings about their role as parents. But what it came down to was my perspective on freedom. </p><p>You see, the thing that makes it most difficult for me to decide how I feel about this is that I truly abhor how parenting is controlled by media and popular society. For instance, the public floggings of the parents whom have encouraged their kids to go for their dreams even in youth are appalling to me. To the father who climbed Mount Everest with his 13 year old son – I applaud him for nurturing those dreams and allowing his son to go for it, and not only that but doing it alongside him. It’s not like the boy didn’t have to work very hard to get there. Yes it’s dangerous, but everyday life can be dangerous – and how much better will he be for understanding the effort and preparation and exertion it takes to achieve, but also how worth it the endeavor is? </p><p>The same with the 16 year old girl circumnavigating the globe non-stop alone via a sailboat. Or the 7 year old girl in 1996 who became a pilot. (Yes, in attempting to cross the U.S. she, her father, and her flight instructor crashed and died, but she was already better educated than most college graduates, knew her mind and pursued her dream.) How dare the media, the masses, whomever, ridicule and condemn those parents because they didn’t choose to coddle and ignore their child’s dreams and potentials. They listened and gave them wings. Just because our modern society says that protection is the absolute, the most important thing, does not make it so. </p><p>Whatever we think about these hate-filled parents, why do we think we have a right to tell them how to raise their children? That above all else bothers me... because, I assure you that if we do, it won’t stop with them. So how can I, then, condemn these parents teaching hate as I so desperately want to? Within my heart I fiercely defend the freedoms we enjoy here in America. I know they are fragile, and come with a great weight of responsibility that we as a nation don’t always handle very well, but I believe it would be an insidious kind of enslavement to have my government tell me how to raise my children (or worse, to have the world do so via the UN). Such a thing frightens me beyond measure, and as a fearless optimist, that's saying something.<br /></p><p>To that end, I find it irritating that this news program put the story of the 16 year old sailor, the 13 year old climber, and an 11 year old toreador in the same light as this story of the 7 year old hater, making it seem that these parents are all the same. This is, to me, more of the media tainting and manipulating our perspective.<br /></p><p>How do we find our way free of this control while still trying to keep children away from actual abuse? Because I believe that parents of the sailor and the climber, at least, did something magnificent in fanning the flames of their child’s dreams and guiding them as they worked for it... then letting them go to achieve when the time came, knowing whatever the outcome that their child would be profoundly the better for the experience of trying. </p><p>I liked what the young climber said, “I encourage other kids to discover their own Everest and go for it.” Magnificent. Incandescent. May we all find that kind of perspective, whatever our age!<br /></p>whichwaydidshegohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17503572447021232945noreply@blogger.com1