28 September 2009
File Under:
[.p.s.y.c.h.o.b.a.b.b.l.e.],
[.b.i.p.o.l.a.r.],
[.m.e.d.i.c.a.l.],
[.r.e.l.a.t.i.o.n.s.h.i.p.],
[.s.o.b.r.i.e.t.y.],
[.c.a.r.e.e.r.],
[.f.r.i.e.n.d.s.],
[.e.v.e.n.t.s.],
[.h.i.g.h.e.r././.l.e.a.r.n.i.n.g.],
[.p.o.l.i.t.i.c.a.l.],
[.r.a.n.t.s.],
[.l.i.f.e.]
Since I’m terribly bad at updating here – and elsewhere, for that matter, I’m giving those of you who care yet another way to peek into some of the corners of my dark life. Hopefully, I’ll get back into the regular routine of updating Plurk on a semi-daily basis. However, given the enormous tidal wave of . . . stuff . . . that’s hit my life of late even that may turn out to be a feat in and of itself. Things have been so chaotic and topsy-turvey that even my much beloved Bipolar World Cafe has gone by the wayside where my regular participation is concerned. Some things occupying my time are good, whereas others I’d ask that this cup be taken from my lips, to get Biblical for a minute. Anyhow, below is a mini-timeline of my Plurk posts. Enjoy!
5 April 2008
File Under:
What does "love" mean? A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds. The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. Here are some of them:
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love." – Rebecca, eight-years-old
"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." – Billy, four-years-old
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." – Karl, five-years-old
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs." – Chrissy, six-years-old
"Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired." – Terri, four-years-old
"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." – Danny, seven-years-old
"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mom my and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss." – Emily, eight-years-old
"Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." – Bobby, seven-years-old
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate." – Nikka, six-years-old
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." – Noelle, seven-years-old
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." – Tommy, six-years-old
"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore." – Cindy, eight-years-old
"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." – Clare, six-years-old
"Love is when Mom my gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." – Elaine, five-years-old
"Love is when Mom my sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." – Chris, seven-years-old
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." – Mary Ann, four-years-old
"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." – Lauren, four-years-old
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." – Karen, seven-years-old
"Love is when Mom my sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn’t think it’s gross." – Mark, six-years-old
"You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." – Jessica, eight-years-old
Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four-year-old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."
The varried answers garnered from both the study and the contest reflect a lot about our society as it stands and where it’s going, what future generations are already learning to value at such a young age, and they both lend a great bit of a view into ethical and moral insight. However, the response by Nikka was both out of the norm and it gave me a glimmer of hope, too. Again, her response was, "If you wat to learn to love better, you should start wth a friend who you hate." Little is she probably aware, but Nikka is wise beyond her six years.
People – or, as I’ve come to prefer to call the majority of society – sheeple have been bleating about how we need to change this and that before IT’S TOO LATE. "It" is never defined. That point of no return is never given a definition or description. Sheeple call for revolution, call for change, scream about global warming, saving the planet, and rising gas prices. Yet don’t go out and vote; install solar panels on their homes (or simply turn lights out in rooms when they’re not in use); use conservation measures around their homes or offices (like basic thermostat "smarts" at home or making sure that paper gets recycled at the office – as most offices do this these days); make an attempt at recycling (much less starting a recycling program in their area!); buy local; start compost heaps; carpool to work, church, school, or whatever; take public transportation (even from park-and-ride lots!); or trip planning and consolidating stops when running errands around town – especially for those sheeple in gas-guzzling SUVs who seem to bitch, whine, and moan the loudest about gas prices when they’re doing nothing to make the situation better. Sadly, this is the society that the next generation, children like Nikka, are coming into. It’s a world of apathy in many ways, a world where we’re not working toward love.
VNV Nation’s lyrics to Testament come to mind right about now: And I’m not the only one who thinks we’re trying to say :: To the heavens and all who hear us: behold all we have made! :: We bring destruction, we bring war without an end :: and we live in hope that tomorrow never comes :: We conquer paradise just to burn it to the ground :: And we build a future to honour pasts we left behind :: We bring destruction, we bring war without an end :: And then we live in hope that tomorrow never comes :: . . . :: When was the last day without war? :: We speak of greatness we have never been.
(ephemeral)
29 March 2008
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The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewp oints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness. We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things. We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less. These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diap ers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill . It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete… Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent. Remember, to say, "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person WI ll not be there again. Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind. AND ALWAYS REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away".
Thank you, George Carlin, for that beauty.
(ephemeral)
1 October 2007
File Under:
this post is brought to you by small letters because it is not a happy post.
this post bears the "friends" tag. rather it should wear the tag "ex-friends", "betrayal", "backstabbing", or some other such thing as the tag "friends" is in and of itself a lie because this post is about those things . . . about someone who used to be a friend. and while i’m one of the most forgiving people you will ever meet and will give you chance after chance after chance after you’ve fucked me around and hurt me bad, this person gets something very few people have ever gotten from me: the axe.
i guess the era era ended between this person and i a long while before this. no, actually, it did end. but i guess i just found a nice, clean line of demarcation to simply walk away from it, to begin the silence that should have begun a long, long time ago.
so, without further ado, i bring you song lyrics that when and if you play the song itself – which i highly encourage you listen to it as it’s a great song – it embodies the emotions that washed over me when i stepped up to this line of demarcation.
the eels – "guest list"
album: "beautiful freak"
are you one of the beautiful people?
is my name on the list?
wanna be of the beautiful people . . .
wanna feel like i’m missed.
hey – you – with the walkie-talkie,
i know my clothes are not right.
i wish i had my own walkie-talkie
that reached to god every night.
everyone needs to be somebody.
everyone needs to find someone who cares.
but i don’t know if you know what i mean
‘cause i’m never on your list.
are you one of the beautiful people?
am i on the wrong track?
sometimes it feels like i’m made of eggshell
and it feels like i’m gonna crack.
everyone needs to be somebody.
everyone needs to find someone who cares.
but i don’t know if you know what i mean
‘cause i’m never on your list.
i’m never on your list.
(ephemeral)
5 September 2007
File Under:
http://organizedchaos.blogsome.com/
(ephemeral)
31 August 2007
File Under:
"You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy,the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese, the Swiss hold the America’s Cup, France is accusing the U.S. of arrogance, Germany doesn’t want to go to war, and the three most powerful men in America are named Bush, Dick, and Colon." – Comedian Chris Rock
(ephemeral)
File Under:
Thank you to my hubby and to my best friend, Kevin, for reminding me that I’m not useless.
As Kevin pointed out, what’s most likely going on with me is that things aren’t happening for me as fast as I’d like or the way that I’d like. There’s me . . . trying to wrest back control when I am powerless. In A. A. you learn a lot of things: personal powerlessness, surrender, humility, acceptance, letting go, boundaries . . . That’s just a small number of the myriad of lessons I’ve learned so far – and sometimes have to revisit.
Like right now while talking to Kevin he pointed out to me the above about things not happening "my way". This means I need to surrender them to my Higher Power and stop trying to meddle. My job is NOT to fix everything, but to do what I can and only that – the next right thing, as it were.
I’m powerless over a lot of things right now and that makes me feel ineffectual.
But I have to realize that it doesn’t mean that I am ineffectual. As Kevin pointed out, if I were ineffectual, things wouldn’t be where they are now. I wouldn’t have made any headway anywhere, or, if anything, I’d have already relapsed.
So, ummm, yeah.
I need to surrender. Again. I keep revisiting this one this year. Heh. And I need to remember where "you" end and "I" begin. And I need to keep in mind what personal powerlessness is and what it does and doesn’t touch in my life.
(ephemeral)
29 June 2007
File Under:
Okay, I’m going to take a slightly more serious tact to this question. There DEFINITELY needs to be SOMETHING done to improve the "experience" – if you can term that in any positive light – of being at Cheshire Academy. I’m sorry, but ‘sponsored’ trips to shopping malls in the area and weekend passes and the like DO NOT constitute enough relief from what I consider the stress and pressure of being a live-in student there. The whole thing – the whole live-in students’ culture could use a severe overhaul, from the bottom up. Let’s just tear it out and revamp it, starting with the slop they call ‘food’ they try to feed you in the cafeteria – which is in part why I went anorexic – and then go from there.
The course load may be too hard for some, but back in Houston where I was in a specialized magnet school and had certain academic measures expected of me, the load was too easy and I felt like I was slacking off. I felt under-challenged and under-stimulated. So, let’s add mutlti-tracking of course levels to the list, things like AP and IB courses and the option to take college courses off campus, whether at a university or a community college, to juniors and seniors. Or work-study programs like they have at regular scools. I mean, these things didn’t truly exist except as rare exceptions to the rule.
Living arrangements: Oh . . . let’s go there! When you got stuck with a horrible roommate who shouldn’t be living with anyone because they had NO social skills WHATSOEVER, you were STUCK. This should NEVER be the case. From my own experience, I was lucky, har har, enough to be selected to be rooming with someone NOBODY wanted to room with again from the year before because she was known as a sociopath, a kleptomaniac, a liar, and just an all around bad person. And no matter how much I clammored and begged and whatever, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t change rooms even when they became available, even when other people had space available and WANTED me there. Unfair? Unjust? Just a LITTLE, don’t you think?
And expanding the area of available activities for students to engage in would be nice, too, as well as extending some of their freedom a little further with the understanding that as long as they stick to campus that these liberties would be ensured as long as they don’t abuse them. Sudents, especially if they’re supposedly mature enough to be sent off to a boarding school, should then be mature enough to extend such rights as staying up later than ten o’clock at night . . . in other words, monitoring their own bedtimes, being responsible for their own schedules, and respecting the boundaries and such of the people around them. They should be able to take care of themselves in these basic ways. If not, they PROBABLY shouldn’t be in a boarding school environ, where you’re expected to be more independent and free-standing than your traditional student.
There’s more, but let’s just start there . . .
(ephemeral)
21 June 2007
File Under:
12:11] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: went and took a nap
[12:11] Charles Riordan: niiiice
[12:11] Charles Riordan: I wish I could take a nap :(
[12:12] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I hadn’t slept in two days
[12:12] Charles Riordan: really? why not?
[12:14] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: stress
[12:14] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: roommate bullshit
[12:14] Charles Riordan: oh?
[12:14] Charles Riordan: from Mischa?
[12:15] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and Eileen
[12:15] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: who I introduced her to
[12:15] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: big mistake
[12:15] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: dude, I’d get into it, but . . .
[12:15] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: ugh
[12:15] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I’ve started calling this place the dramapartment
[12:15] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and I don’t spend any time here, really, anymore
[12:16] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: most of the time I’m at Steve’s because we’re married, oof the drama, etc.
[12:16] Charles Riordan: awww
[12:16] Charles Riordan: you going to move in with your husband?
[12:16] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: so don’t tell them, but that’s the plan
[12:16] Charles Riordan: gotcha
[12:16] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I’ve already given her the rent for July, too
[12:16] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: but fuck it
[12:17] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I can’t handle this
[12:18] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: her borderline and Eileen’s schizoaffective and addiction issues and her refusal to work a program anymore – she was my sponsee until Mischa convinced her by buying her things that she didn’t need a program, much less a sponsor – and, well, I’m not doing this
[12:18] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: plus, after Mischa insulted our marriage the other night, I’m outie
[12:18] Charles Riordan: :(
[12:19] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: she also convinced Eileen to go off her meds
[12:19] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and that’s been a nightmare in and of itself
[12:19] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: Eileen’s secondary DX is also borderline
[12:19] Charles Riordan: how did she insult?
[12:19] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: And Mischa’s not been taking her meds either
[12:19] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: She said in a very insulting and sarcastic tone to me and Steve that she hope it lasts but she knows better because Steve is just as controlling as Seth ever was
[12:19] Charles Riordan: ugh… this isn’t good
[12:20] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: which is SO NOT TRUE
[12:20] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: no shit
[12:20] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: so I’m outie
[12:20] Charles Riordan: I don’t blame you
[12:22] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I paid her back for what Seth owed her for rent last year and on top of it, I’ve bought groceries, a carton of cigarettes that I saw none of – Camel Signatures – and paid 400 for June and 400 for July rent and then her electric bill for two months
[12:22] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: since it was overdue
[12:22] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and she still says I owe her
[12:23] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: It wiped out what reserve I had and I’ve had to borrow from my friend Scott to pay my cell bill . . . okay, only a hundred bucks for the last two months, but still
[12:23] Charles Riordan: ugh
[12:23] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and because of her broken promises, I owe Brian and Jeff about 120
[12:24] Charles Riordan: for what?
[12:27] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: gas money that she promised to pay him when he came up here on her beck and call and a bus ticket
[12:28] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and Mischa says she’s broke, but she keeps buying Eileen stuff – a cell phone, adding her to her cell plan, books, clothes, anything she seems to want, cab rides . . .
[12:28] Charles Riordan: ...
[12:29] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: but yesterday when I asked her if I could borrow enough money to get a pack of smokes and then then pay her back when Steve got here to pick me up, she screamed at me.
[12:29] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: about how she has no money
[12:31] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: [13:39] adam_s_brown: So, think Mischa is trying to make eileen her pet?
[13:39] ephemeral_ether: [13:39] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: but yesterday when I asked her if I could borrow enough money to get a pack of smokes and then then pay her back when Steve got here to pick me up, she screamed at me.
[13:39] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: about how she has no money
[13:39] ephemeral_ether: I duno
[13:39] ephemeral_ether: but it’s pissing me off
[13:40] ephemeral_ether: Eileen was working a program and on her fourth step and all this shit and doing okay before she got here
[13:40] ephemeral_ether: her only thing was her parents were driving her crazy
[12:31] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: Mischa even bought Eileen a kitten
[12:31] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and when I asked about getting a guinea pig, well . . . hahahaha
[12:32] Charles Riordan: dayum
[12:33] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and they’ve both depleted my pretty expensive Biolage shampoo and conditioner and other stuff because they dyed their hair and my stuff is for dyed hair, so they figure they can use it because of that
[12:33] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and that shit is 20 a shot
[12:33] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: and they refuse to contribute to replacing it
[12:33] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I’m not asking for full replacement cost, either
[12:33] Charles Riordan: I’d make mention of that
[12:33] Charles Riordan: no, if they want to bitches about it, then bitch back
[12:33] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I didbn’t
[12:34] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: I asked for help
[12:35] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: brb – phone with Steve
[12:36] Charles Riordan: k
[12:43] Charles Riordan: < - broke
[13:30] ephemeralether@gmail.com/Meebo: me, too
(ephemeral)