It's a sad sorry state of affairs, Batman.

You know you are having a rough night when a 20 year old homeless kid who has only eaten three times in the past week and girlfriend is breaking up with him tells you, "It's going to be ok. Things will get better." And when later thanked for the comfort says with a shake of his head, "You just looked so broken."

Circles of Hell

It's gotta be said: Dante was amiss in not including a tenth circle of hell.

Tenth Circle: Full of the wandering discontent Nomads of the earth. Their punishment? Eternally packing never ending ripping boxes of useless shit they "might need one day."

Love for Pinky Toes and Sleeping In

I was very excited last night because I had a random day off today and was going to have the opportunity to sleep in this morning. As is custom at Hoyt House, one of us having the next day off is a good enough reason to convince everyone to drink like they have the next day off - and we commenced early and went late. I wandered up to bed at some ungodly hour - stopping off in the bathroom to brush my teeth.

Not quite sure how, but in the relatively short time I was in the bathroom I managed to slice my left pinky toe to an alarming degree and not notice at all (thank you PBR - the poor man's anesthetic.) I got into bed and started to get comfortable when I noticed a throbbing in my foot. After reaching down to investigate, I turned the bedside light on to find my hand covered in blood.

Not extremely concerned, I limped to the bathroom and stuck my whole leg in the sink since I had managed to smear red goo (yeah - goo - not just blood) all the way up to my knee. After cleaning it off, I realized the source of all the gore was the tip of my toe- which looked like it was seriously considering falling off. If I still had my camera (next blog will be the story of its tragic death) I would take a picture of it to post.

Anyways, had I been sober, I would have realized that something as serious as a trip to the ER for stiches might be in order - but not wanting to deal with getting out of my PJ's, I puckered a baby round bandaid on the end of it after it stopped bleeding and called it a night.

To bring this anecdote full circle - I limped back to bed and instantly fell into a deep dreamless sleep - only to be woken up at 8am by the feeling of something trying to tear the end of my foot off. Nothing of the sort was actually happening - but in my haste to secure the tip of my toe back on, I hadn't done a bang up job applying the bandaid and it came off in my sleep - leaving my poor toe exposed and once again, bleeding.

With my ravaged toe, blinding headache, bruised shin (another mysterious injury), and raging morning heat all competing for dominance, I gave up the fight to fall back asleep after about 15 minutes and started my day.

Truly truly, there is no rest for the wicked.

*Side bar~ In lieu of a 9 hour wait in the ER for a "hurt toe" I am going to let it heal naturally and have a story to tell about my effed up looking little piggie.

Love for Comfort

In case you haven't noticed - the extremely trendy "Maxi Dresses" you see flitting down every street....

...are nightgowns you can wear in public. Not only can a woman wear this and be insanely comfortable and keep cool- but she can wear one and expect to be complimented on her "adorable dress." In past summers, if someone my age was caught going out in one of these they would have been stared and snickered at for wearing a glorified mumu .

Point being, if you are expecting to see me wearing anything else while this ungodly hot weather continues (and possibly even when winter comes) you will be sadly dissapointed.

Just a rant.

If you live in Portland and have kids, know anyone that has kids, work with kids, or possibly kidnapped a child for the day - you were at the Oregon Zoo last Wednesday morning. From now on, whenever I hear the phrase, "It was a zoo in there!" I will instantly associate it with the mayhem that I experienced there this past week.

Now, it's not uncommon for the zoo to be busy on a nice day in Portland. Wednesday was not only a nice day - but it was the FIRST nice day after about a week and a half of rainy days, it was pay day for many, and *Drum roll* the PBS Kids show Between the Lions was performing 3 live shows all before 1 pm.

I arrived to the zoo parking lot a mere three minutes after the zoo was scheduled to open. After racing three minivans, two suvs, and one god awful huge truck thru the lot of compact car spaces, I squeeeezed into one of the only remaining available parking spots at the very back of the lot.

For the first time ever, I decided to forgo the bane of my existence (a.k.a. the double stroller) and storm the zoo armed only with a backpack of snacks, diapers, water, and my own two (already sweaty) hands. This. Was. A. Horrible. Mistake.

We trekked across the lot only to arrive at the entrance to the zoo where every line - all eight of them - was backed up so far people were waiting in the loading zones in the parking lot. Looking around at the other parents' faces I realized I was not alone in my belief that the gates in front of me were actually leading to the mouth of hell - not a fun filled morning with the kids.

Cursing every person who ever felt the need to remind me how lucky I am to have such an easy job, I got in line. Within seconds, there was a troop of six more behind us: 2 six year old boys (twins), 1 young girl (probably 8 or so), a frazzled mom, and a grouchy grandma pushing a screaming shoe throwing 2 year old.

I inched forward, attempting -unsuccessfully - to gain a foot of much needed personal space from the madness behind me. Apparently I need to work on my stink eye, because whatever look I was shooting over my shoulder at the grandma pushing the stroller so far forward she was on the back of my flip flop, was NOT working.

Discontent with merely irritating me through poor stroller driving, bitch grandma made it personal by attempting to push me out of the line and cut in front of me not five minutes later. At this, I grasped Noah and Hayden's slippery hands firmly and said loudly enough for her to hear, " Step forward boys - WE're in this line, too."

Hoping I had made my point (passive) aggressively enough, I bent down to get the boy's sippy cups out of the bag. No sooner had I taken her out of my range of sight, said awful human being pushed forward AGAIN trying to force me out of line.

I shot up and spun around, opening my mouth (fully preparing to say something worth getting fired over) but before I could get anything out, the little 8 year old turned to the bitch with the stroller and said, "Grandma - be careful - we don't want to cut in front of them!"

Polite kids rock my socks. Especially when they have such poor examples of common decency to learn from. It never ceases to amaze me when I meet a rude old person who expects respect merely because they've managed to stay alive so long. The idea that they deserve leniency in their old age, and that their impolite behavior should be excused, is ludicrous. The elderly, of all people, have had more time on this planet to learn the value of kindness and patience.

Thankfully, Grandma was shamed into a grudging courtesy, and I spent the remaining 15 minutes in line only having to worry about the wild animals attached to my own two arms.

I could labor the nightmare the rest of the morning at the zoo was - but I won't. At the end of the day, the stress of the outing was balanced out by the fact the boys were so exhausted they crashed out for three simultaneous hours and I got to mellow out and regain my sanity. Thank goodness for naps.

And...I'm done.

Thank you Douglas Wood!

In my line of work I read many many many children's books. Over the past five years I've worked for several different families, each one differing in the values and beliefs they want their children to be raised with. Guaranteed, if a parent wants a certain belief or moral code built into their child, there will be multiple kid's books laying around that present the message in a way that not only conveys the beliefs in a simple, easily understandable way, but also with a air of truth, guiding the child to believe the principles/stories are Truth (capital T) from the beginning.

Because of my very intense aversion to organized religion, I've struggled with reading some of the stories I've found on these children's shelves. I take my job very seriously - I work with children during very formative years of their lives, and its hard for me in good conscience to read them books that present make believe as fact, and fiction as history - a history worth building their life on.

When one of the kids toddled up to me with this book in their hand, and I flipped through it only to see GOD sprawled across every other page, I was inwardly irritated. Having had a rough morning battling multiple tantrums and hot sticky weather, I was looking forward to naptime. But, knowing that refusing the book might induce another fit of tears, I sighed and snuggled the munchkin on my lap, opened the book, and prepared to present another set of ideas that I staunchly believed he'd be better without.

By the end of the book I was so relieved I could have cried. It's an amazing book - a beautifully illustrated story presenting the even more beautiful truth of God's presence not being confined to one entity or philosophy - but part of everything on earth.

I was so jazzed about the book in fact, that I copied it out and posted it below for you all to take a look at if you are so inclined :) I can't recommend this book, or this author, more highly!

Old Turtle by Douglas Wood

Once, long long ago…yet somehow, not so very long…

When all the animals and rocks and winds and waters and trees
And birds and fish and all the beings of the world could speak…and understand one another…

There began…AN ARGUMENT.

It began softly at first…

Quiet as the first breeze that whispered, “He is a wind who is never still.”
Quiet as the stone that answered, “He is a great rock that never moves.”
Gentle as the mountain that rumbled, “God is a snowy peak, high above the clouds.”
And the fish in the ocean that answered, " God is a swimmer, in the dark, blue depths of the sea.”

“No,” said the star, “God is a twinkling and a shining, far, far away.”
“No,” replied the ant, “God is a sound and a smell and a feeling, who is very, very close.”

“God,” said the antelope, " is a runner, swift and free, who loves to leap and race with the wind.”
“She is a great tree,” murmured the willow, “a part of the world, always growing and always giving.”

“You are wrong,” argued the island, “God is separate and apart.”
“God is like the shining sun, far above all things,” said the blue sky.
“No, He is a river, who flows through the very heart of things,” thundered the waterfall.

“She is a hunter,” roared the lion.
“God is gentle,” chirped the robin.
“He is powerful,” growled the bear.

And the argument grew LOUDER and LOUDER and LOUDER…

Until…

STOP!

A new voice spoke.

It rumbled loudly, like thunder. And it whispered softly, like butterfly sneezes. The voice seemed to come from… Why it seemed to come from…Old Turtle!

Now, Old Turtle hardly ever said anything, and certainly never argued about things like God.
But now Old Turtle began to speak. “ God is indeed deep,” she said to the fish in the sea; “and much higher than high,” She told the mountains.

“He is swift and free as the wind, and still and solid as a great rock,” She said to the breezes and stones. She is the life of the world,” Turtle said to the willow. “Always close by, yet beyond the farthest twinkling light,” She told the ant and the star.

“God is gentle and powerful. Above all things and within all things. “God is all the we dream of,
And all that we seek,” said Old Turtle, “all that we come from and all that we can find.

“God IS.”

Old Turtle had never said so much before. All the beings of the world were surprised, and became very quiet. But Old Turtle had one more thing to say.

“There will soon be a new family of beings in the world,” she said, “and they will be strange and wonderful. They will be reminders of all that God is. They will come in many colors and shapes
with different faces and different ways of speaking. Their thoughts will soar to the stars,
but their feet will walk the earth. They will possess many powers. They will be strong, yet tender, a message of love from God to the earth, and a prayer from the earth back to God.”

And the people came.

But the people forgot. They forgot that they were a message of love, and a prayer from the earth. And they began to argue… About who knew God - and who did not; and where God was, and was not; and whether God was, or was not. And often the people misused their powers, and hurt one another. Or killed one another. And they hurt the earth.

Until finally even the forests began to die… and the rivers and the oceans and the planets and the animals and the earth itself...Because the people could not remember who they were, or where God was.

Until one day there came a voice, like the growling of thunder; But as soft as a butterfly sneezes,

Please, STOP.

The voice seemed to come from the mountain who rumbled, “Sometimes I see God swimming, in the dark blue depths of the sea.”
And from the ocean who sighed, “He is often among the snow-capped peaks, reflecting the sun.”
From the stone who said, “I sometimes feel her breath, as she blows by.”
And from the breeze who whispered, “I feel his still presence as I dance among the rocks.”
And the star said, “God is very close.”
And the island said, “His love touches everything.”

And after a long, lonesome, and scary time…

..the people listened, and began to hear…

And to see God in one another… and in the beauty of all the Earth.

And Old Turtle smiled.

And so did God.

Seen while driving...

If it hadn't been for the fact I was attempting to pacify two screaming 2 year olds hollering for sippy cups in the backseat, adjusting the volume on my radio so I could hear the voicemail I had playing on speakerphone, and keeping my travel mug of tea from tipping over - I would definitely have given the driver of the car bearing this, and only this, bumper sticker an enthusiastic thumbs up as I pulled past her at the stop light.

Three cheers for Random Acts of Kindness

Tonight in the bakery section of Fred Meyers, a nice looking guy about my age grabbed a loaf of bread beside me, paused, and said in the way of old friends, "You look really cute today!" And walked away with a big smile.

I managed to squeeze out a "Thank you!" before he turned, and I stared back at the loaves of dark rye, embarassed yet more blessed than I can express by his random compliment and positive energy.

I turned to follow him with my eyes, somehow hoping the smile I was shooting at his back registered in his mind and he could sense how completely happy I was in that moment and how that one tiny act of kindness literally turned my whole day around, filling me with the warmest fuzzies I've had in quite some time.

Call it cheesy, but I feel the absolute need to put it out into the universe since I will never meet him again - to my kind stranger today - thank you, thank you, for taking a second to make a sad girl's evening. Your genuine smile and words meant more than you know. I hope my embarassment didn't overshadow my happiness, and that you benefited as much from giving the compliment as I did recieving it.

Moral of the story~ Share the love y'all. You never know how much one sentence can improve someone's outlook.

Love for Humans

Shadow Art by Tim Noble and Sue Webster

The human mind is a beautiful and complex thing.

Love Hurts.

I stumbled across this piece while going through old files of my writing earlier today. Most of my writing in the past six months has been inspired by the rollercoaster of insane emotions that made up my days - but not this piece. I remember writing this in a drunken haze after learning that one of my friends was in an abusive relationship...and refused to leave it, regardless of the pain, physical and mental, this person was being put through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hit me, shake me, push me, slap me til I’m black and blue and cannot stand. Burst vessels behind my eyes as the tidal waves of pain thunder in my ears and rattle the marrow in my jaw.
Countless times would I stand up again just to be laid flat- quiet my pleas and accept the apology rolling from your trite, sober tongue in the morning.

But. You are not so kind.

Your attack leaves no bruises. The tongue, quicker than any upraised hand strikes with the force of a head on collision – over before the sound registers. The sickening crunch of cruel truths and lies fill the room and I’m thrown – shattered to pieces – mind splitting, arteries pouring pulsating streams of r.e.d. – all over the floor where we first made love.

I stand, broken, somehow still whole and search for a lone whisper of defiance rattling around my chest. Nothing. I exhale, empty, and stumble to our bed. Sore, one more night, alone beside you, hoping in vain the morning will open your eyes and you’ll see again what lured you so long ago.

Love. This violent sickness will kill me yet.

A Brave Man. I heart you Stephen Colbert.

For whatever awesome mischance Stephen Colbert was asked to give the main address at the 2006 White House Correspondents' dinner...I absolutely cannot believe this speech didn't get more press...It's a beautiful and hilarious thing. Totally worth the time to watch it!!

Part 1:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qa-4E8ZDj9s

Part 2:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOYZF3It848

Part 3:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iAvFM4TYQKU

Doubles

And your ridiculous belief that you’ll spend sun filled days in laughter and exotic breezes is so optimistic of a relationship built on ink soaked pages of best feet forward and unbroken promises.

Games. Games, running walking talking circles around who you’ve always been. Twisting, turning spheres of words, your gift and vice, round your head to unlock a door to who you should have been long before now.

Words. Words, begging pleading, striving to convince us, as much as yourself, that this is who you want to be, were meant to be, truly are inside.

This nymph, quiet, demure, pleasing in simplicity and gut wrenching nerve grating with innocence would make us sick if it weren’t for the silent amusement she brings us. Laughter spills from our eyes and drops to the floor in front of you – quickly swept out of sight so she can’t see we’re giving you away with smirks.

Sigh. Sigh for the love you could lose when your true colors show, and the flash of lightening you’ve magically caught through her would extinguished in the haze you’ve persuaded her you’re free of.

Hide. Hide in sincere smiles shared only through pictures and during the scheduled peaceful evenings and passion filled mornings of regular weekends.

Deny. Deny yourself, one piece at a time, until the man we all know for what he is – and love anyway – gives in silently and becomes the stability girls like her desperately seek…one more screw in the machine of mundane normality, living to see old age, and loving to avoid dying alone.

Hope. Hope that this will end in whisky drenched rages against women and relationships. That your eyes will adjust to the naivity screaming from your entwined hands and lingering smiles.

Smile. Smile back as me as I grin in pitying wonder that you too have succumbed to the soul binding crutch that is monogamy.

Learn. Learn your lesson one more time with wasted years attempting the impossible. You will never be tied down, and this ridiculous dream of sun filled days and exotic breezes will fade into the nightmare we all forsee so clearly.

Good luck.

Comments

So you're all awares~ I've gotten a couple emails from people saying they haven't been able to figure out how to post comments on posts: problem solved :) I had the wrong Comment option checked.