If I could just stay in touch with the path -

We're getting dangerously close to December again . . .

Last december I had some tremendous break-throughs; you probably remember the lists of things I wanted to do and be and have. You probably remember 'justification for inaction' and my desire for bathtub products that make the body smell like birthday cake.

Here I am . . . winter coming soon, and while all of those goals and feelings still resonate - still belong to me, I don't feel like that girl right now.

In May while I was in Seattle on my business trip, Doug was saying really sweet things to me. I was so excited to get back home to see him. The details are fuzzy now, but we have been inseparable since I got home. It feels so comfortable to be in a serious committed relationship with him and I have never been more sure of anything in my life than I am of my relationship.

I don't have a lot of experience in relationships with good men, but I'm struggling a little. I don't want to be anywhere but where he is. I go to work, I meet up with Doug, we stay at his house or go to mine, we make fabulous dinners, and then we go to bed together. It is absolutely blissful. Now is find the balance time . . . Since May, I don't write, I don't sew, I don't make hair fascinators, I don't see my friends regularly.

I went to Burning Man again this year and spent most of the week heart broken because Doug wasn't with me. My friends did their very best to pull me out of the shell, but I felt disoriented and mostly refused. I spent almost the entire burn in camp. I had a great time when I did go out with my friends, but I did not take full advantage of the opportunity given. No catharsis. I learned that I don't want to figure out my life without Doug.

It fills my heart to the brim when I think that I have found the right partner for my life. I feel so secure and safe, so delighted, so loved.

But the path??? It's obscured by the gooey, gooey love among other things. We are too busy making eyes at one another to look at much else.

The other things are the same impulse control issues I've always had . . . though now they are easier to identify. Margo says that I need to put my priorities in order and make all my decisions in accordance with those priorities. She's right, and this is how to get back on the path.

It feels like they haven't changed much:

Better money management so I can get out of debt . . . this would give me the freedom to pick up and move away from SLC if the opportunity were to arise. Doug and I both want to live closer to his little boy in Colorado Springs.

Better relationship with food and my compulsions toward eating . . . would improve my self-esteem immediately. It would help me get healthy, lose weight, be more active. I want to learn to rock climb, I want to spend my summer on the river, in the mountains, and in the desert. I want more energy, more stamina, more endurance.

Better time management would help me be a more successful student and employee.

I feel like it has to do with discipline . . . something I've never had much of.

I don't want to be a victim of my own lack of impulse control anymore.

No rest for the wicked

I landed in Seattle at about 1:00 PM today. By 2:00 my clothes were up in the closet. By 3:00 I was headed out to get on a bus and go downtown, feeling like I was going to take this town on all by myself . . . . I didn't need anyone to show me around.

Yenn helped me work out a bus route - then the bell boy sent me in the wrong direction. I walked 20 minutes one way before I realized I was in the wrong place. I almost called a cab to come rescue me. When I got back to the hotel, I spoke with the concierge who pointed me in a better direction, but when I got to the bus stop I realized I only had a $5 and needed to break it into smaller bills. By that time it was 4:30 or so. I'd had coffee to drink and not eaten all day. Yenn and I were working out how I'd get back on the same route when the dead battery beep sounded off on my cell phone.

That was how I ended up ordering room service. It wouldn't be an adventure without wrong turns, but part of me blames the bell boy for giving me bad directions to the address I gave him. I wish that I was someone who could take it in stride. I wanted to feel totally independent and instead I feel like I failed.

I got hung up on wishing that when I booked my flight several months ago, I had advertised to my friends that I was coming out here . . . It would be nice to have someone to spend my evenings with, and Yenn would have most likely been able to.

Thing that's bothering me the most is that independence thing: Just a few days ago I was in a canoe that flipped over in the Colorado River. It absolutely terrified me, but I got myself out of the water without any help. It felt amazing! 

I wanted that feeling back. 

To beginnings, as well as to the end

My last day of class was yesterday. I am relieved about all the pressure that has been lifted suddenly (though I am still finishing up an essay and have one more assignment to post - both of these things are enjoyable for me). 

I've decided to take a 6 month hiatus from school.  This decision feels good, but it also makes me slightly nervous. I know I will go back for more; having the degree is too important to me not to go. I also know it doesn't matter how long it takes. I'm only 23 years old, I have the rest of my life to learn, but the critic is whispering that even though it feels good, it's bad.  It's not good enough, it's what quitters do. I'm a fool for giving up - I should stay in school until I get good at it. 

She also tells me that I won't actually do the writing that I want to do for myself over the next several months - she's setting me up to feel guilty for something new. My life wouldn't seem to be complete without overwhelming guilt about something.

My compulsions have their own compulsions and if left unsupervised, I'm likely to eat the entire house down, so I'm packing up my stuff and heading to Goblin Valley with some of my people. I hope the time away will help me figure what I'm actually eating, because it's not just a bag of potato chips.

The interesting thing is that this doesn't feel like the pit. It feels like I'm on the surface and a storm is raging on over my head. I've been really angry on and off for the last few days. Angry about food, angry about my childhood,  angry. It's kind of nice to not be sad anymore. I feel like in my life I've been served some emotional injustices and I'm SO GLAD to see that they weren't my fault.

Sin Nombre

Aside from being a stunning directorial debut with incredible shots, beautiful lighting, and amazing scenery. . . this film is perhaps one of the most beautiful I've seen this year.

I want everyone to see it. I want everyone to know that during this film, my only feeling was to take these people home, give them my shower, a home cooked meal, clean clothes, and a comfortable, warm bed to sleep in.

I hope that American's can stop treating immigration like an 'issue' and start thinking about humans.

P.S. Never to eat dairy products again.

Two weekends ago I cheated my diet and had some cheesecake. Within a matter of hours there was a new zit on my chin.

On Saturday, I had some Creme Brule and got four new zits.

Monday I had a white chocolate chip and cranberry cookie - massive break out. 

My body feels different than it did before all of this. All over my body, my skin is more oily, and my bowels have been different too.

I can't have milk, or cheese, or cream of something soup or sauce because my body doesn't like it. It kind of bums me out. No milk chocolate, no sour cream, no yogurt, no ice cream, no butter. Fortunately there are about 10 billion products that are made of soy milk  and I happen to really like soy products. 

 The good thing though is that I finally understand the cause of my acne. I'm learning to be very assertive. I'm learning how not to give into every food craving. 

Rubbed Raw - and plans for Happiness is a Journey

There is a little bump inside my lower lip - it wont heal. Every time I forget about it, I eat something and bite the ever living shit out of it over and over again.

It reminds me of my emotional state. Most of the time I am such a cheerful and delighted person. Every once in a while, when I don't see it coming, this dark feeling jumps out from a hidden place and the wind is knocked out of me when I hit the ground beneath its weight.

I am gearing up to start my blog project. Happiness is a Journey is a writing project to continue my self discovery and growth. I want to learn what I can from the experts about the topics that impact my self-esteem. There are several goals that come along with it, but my intentions are to reach a better understanding of who I am, and to reach other women who feel similarly - I want them to know we arent' alone.

My goals are:

1. Establish a daily writing practice. Take Sallie's advice and instead of self-handicapping, start with goals that aren't going to stress me out. - I want to write for no less than half an hour every day (anything more is a bonus). I will start on Sunday May 3.
2. I want to really learn what I read and apply it to my life. This goal is why I want to read a small pile of books to supplement my blog project. There are several of them so I am recognizing the need to give myself a schedule, but also some flexibility. (books to start with: When Women Stop Hating Their Bodies by Jane R. Hirschmann, When Food is Love by Geneen Roth, and Mindfull Eating: Jan Chozen Bays)

The part that is still in its conceptual stages is how big I want this project to be and how exactly I want to put it into the blog. I want a disciplined writing practice and I have an idea of what my best processes are:

Free associate to get notes about my thoughts and feelings, use
them to narrow it down, create a draft, edit twice or three times and
publish.

I want this project to be beautifully written. I want to cite my research materials, any images I use, etc. I don't want it to be academic style essays or research papers because of the very, very personal subject matter - I want to focus on my feelings, remembered events, the research I've done, and my thoughts on the research. There are still a lot of things to decide on.

I want to be done before Burning Man (the first week of September), but I wont know until I have made a few more decisions if that's something I can really do. My summer will be busy and fun and a great deal of the motivation behind this project is to relieve myself of academic pressure. I think it will be more realistic to give myself until January.

The Critical Decisions

The amethyst I've worn for years, the one that belonged to my mother before me, fell out of the setting sometime after leaving Alchemy Coffee and sitting down on my living room floor on Wednesday night. This was after the intense therapy session where I realized that the real fear behind 'not being good enough' is about not being loved.

Amethyst is the stone for crown chakra, it brings enlightenment. When I realized the one I wear most often was gone, my emotions surprised me a little. I am unattached to that stone. If it turns up I'll be glad, but I believe that it was carrying around some serious intensity. I feel like that stone fell out of the setting for a reason, if it doesn't come back to me that will be ok too.

Now is time once again to make some pretty serious decisions about my life. I have put myself under so much pressure for so long and I'm feeling like I have direction, but it is no longer the direction I thought I was going. I want the degrees, but I don't feel incredibly urgent about it. I would rather spend some time practicing discipline, reading the books I've been sitting on for a while - Will I ever be Good Enough?, Mindful Eating, When Women Stop Hating their Bodies

One of my favorite English teachers, Mary-Jayne Davis, told me she offers a class called English 1900. It's a free-for-all, structured class in which I pick my own projects and she helps and consults and guides me through them. I didn't see the class online so I'll have to ask, but if I take any classes at all this summer, that will be the one.

My intentions when I created "Happiness is a Journey" was to become a better writer by setting up some parameters where there would be an audience. I've strayed away from it a little bit and considered deleting some of those entries, but I see no reason to do so because of my second intention: To be genuine with the people in my life. 

Very few people know this blog exists, and many of them are relatives who will remember me as the sweet little daughter of their eldest brother. A faithful church goer, a nurturer of the little cousins, smart for her age and sometimes very bratty. One of my fears is that when they learn that I don't believe in the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, they won't love me anymore. I'm afraid that they won't like the niece with the tattoos, who cusses like a sailor, loves a good glass of wine, and top shelf vodka. The niece who goes out dancing till all hours of the night, who experiments in psychedelics, and wants to learn about Tantric sex. I'm afraid they will judge me (which I know is insecurity speaking). I'm afraid they will worry about me and put me on temple prayer lists. I'm afraid that these things will break the hearts of my grandparents because it means I wont go to the heaven they believe. These feelings bring a lot of guilt. 

But I will not relocate my writing. I will not hide who I am. 

When Spring semester is over, I am going to begin a new project. I want "Happiness is a Journey" to be a raw, honest, vulnerable, and intense piece of artwork about my journey of self discovery. I want to learn to love food, love my body, and live my life believing in abundance instead of scarcity. I'm going to read, research, and write about body image. I'm going to have Sallie take photographs of my body and I am going to publish them here. 

I am a good and beautiful human being and I trust that my family will not love me any less for naked pictures on the internet. 

It breaks my heart

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

Vegan Chocolate Cake

I found out in therapy today that I've been carrying around a belief that if I'm not self-sufficient, if I'm not totally independent people won't be proud of me, and if that's the case then I really am not good enough.

When Margo asked me what it means not to be good enough - the answer that came to mind dropped me to my knees -

No one will love me.

Have I really been walking around believing that I'm not good enough to be loved?

Dark and Twisty

I have an appointment to see Margo tomorrow after work. I don't know if I should tell her that roughly every third day, I eat an entire bag of potato chips in my car. Sometimes in one sitting, sometimes in two, or four . . . but never where I can be witnessed.

Amie says it's cute that I love my potato chips so much.
I think, at least I've decided I can't resist Kettle Chips - all the spices can be found in the grocery store and Kettle doesn't use hydrogenated oils.
Amie said that being observed would break the spell - I agree.
The weekend before last, she and I had make stuff day at home. I ate the chips in front of my friends. It felt good to be observed, but I still felt full of guilt and shame.

That's the thing - The chips seem like something that I'm doing to make myself feel better, but it doesn't work.

I stopped at the grocery store after work today to get some, and they didn't have what I wanted so I got something else. The need for exactly the ones I wanted lead me to a second grocery store on my way to a friend's card making class.

If I tell Margo about this, she's going to start asking questions and I will have to explain that my avoidance technique isn't working.

I don't want to be in school.
I feel like a total and utter failure.
I'm several assignments behind and not learning enough to feel comfortable taking the tests or giving the presentations.
I want to drop out of this semester all together.
I think I'm self sabotaging.here

I can't tell if this feeling like I'm a fraud, a fake, not actually intelligent, not actually a writer, not actually good at my job . . . is real. Or if I feel like I'm not good enough because yet again, I'm not committed.

There isn't enough time in my life for me. I want to write every day, I want to spend time with the people I love, I want to get a decent night's sleep every night. So do I feel all this guilt, and all this shame because I procrastinate? Or is it because the pressure I feel is real?

Spontaneous Combustion

14 Credit hours might be too much . . . or maybe it's that I'm not committed to writing right now. It's all I want to do, I am still browsing all the empty journals who beg and thirst and hunger for words to be dribbled and glazed, poured, spattered, and splashed onto their page and I long to do it.

But I don't want to write a position paper, I don't want to write academic essays, I don't even want to write the journals for my Women's Studies course even though they are delicious and delightful and have the potential to be the kind of writing I love to do.

I am ilinspired.I am exhausted and overwhelmed and I know I am capable of working full time and going to school full time . . . I keep wondering if I've bitten off more than I can chew . . . but that doesn't seem real because I'm not putting in the time!

How can I have taken on too much if I don't even do what I can?

I can't even tell what's real and what isn't anymore.

And to add insult to injury - self repairing plastic

http://blog.wired.com/cars/2008/05/airplane-heal-t.html

Works Cited - Plastic Ocean

Works Cited
Algalita Marine Research Foundation 10 Dec 2008, 02 Feb 2009
http://www.algalita.org

Casey, Susan “Our Oceans Are Turning Into Plastic” Best Life Magazine 05 Feb. 2009
http://www.bestlife.co.za/articles/health_and_fitness/52

Greenpeace “Ocean plastic pollution and how you can help” 30 Oct 2006, 02 Feb 2009 http://oceans.greenpeace.org/en/the-expedition/news/trashing-our-oceans

Moore, Captain Charles “Navigating the Pacific’s ‘Garbage Patch.’” Interview. All Things Considered. NPR. 28 Oct 2007 Interviewer Unknown. Personal Interview. 02 Feb 2009.


Moore, Captain Charles. “Trashed: Across the Pacific Ocean, plastics, plastics, everywhere” Natural History Magazine 02 Feb 2009. http://www.naturalhistorymag.com/master.html?http://www.naturalhistorymag.com/1103/1103_feature.html

U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. 6 Nov 2008. 02 Feb 2009
http://www.epa.gov/osw/conserve/materials/plastics.htm


VBS.TV. 02 Feb 2009 http://www.vbs.tv/video.php?id=1485308505#Scene_1

The images from my report in order of appearance

Plastic Ocean - Report, Intermediate Writing

Trieste Palmer
Briggs
English 2010
Thursday, February 12, 2009

You’ve probably heard the term ‘plastic ocean’ and you’ve probably heard that it’s ‘serious’, ‘the size of Texas’, ‘twice the size of Texas’. Do you believe it? More importantly, can you do something about it?
The first time I heard about the Pacific Gyre in 2006, I imagined soda bottle caps, Barbie shoes, plastic forks, cups, and plastic grocery sacks. I wondered why it sounded so serious, couldn’t we just get out there and clean it up? I started to do some research and found an article about a man named Captain Charles Moore and that led me to a 12 part video called Toxic Garbage Island on VBS TV’s website.

Picture: Animated map showing the journey garbage takes from the beaches to the gyres of the ocean. From Greenpeace 30 Oct 2006,
All the things I had imagined are present, but the problem was much bigger and more difficult to solve than I had realized. I also began to wonder why I had never heard of this before.
So What is The Problem?
Charles Moore is the man who discovered the ‘plastic ocean’ in 1997 when he decided to sail a less traveled route from Hawaii to Los Angeles, CA. He was interviewed by NPR for a show called All Things Considered on October 28, 2007 and it turns out that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to know: “Why can’t you just sort of sweep through, scoop it up, and get rid of it?” (Interviewer’s name Unknown) His answer is alarming:

If the entire Continental United States had a million plastic particles per square mile, how would you propose to remove that from the entire surface area of the United States? Now, imagine a medium in which, not only would you have to remove it from the surface like you would if it was on land, but where our trawls indicate it’s prevalent down to over 100 feet.

The sheer size of the mess is only half of the problem. Plastic is made up of monomers, a molecule that can be combined with other molecules that form a polymer. Polymers can be found in things like diamonds, and graphite as well as silly putty and foods that contain complex carbohydrates like starch and cellulose. At the molecular level, a polymer looks like a string of beads.
To make plastic, various polymers are broken back down to monomers using a heat process; the recombination of various monomers make-up the different types of plastic. You could say that these polymers are no longer ‘natural’.

Types of Plastics
HDPE High-density polyethylene (i.e., milk jugs)
LDPE Low-density polyethylene
LLDPE Linear low-density polyethylene
PET Polyethylene terephthalate (i.e., soda bottles)
PP Polypropylene (i.e., long underwear)
PS Polystyrene (i.e., packaging "peanuts")
PVC Polyvinyl chloride (i.e., pipes)

Table from U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. 6 Nov 2008. 02 Feb 2009


Plastic has changed nearly every aspect of the way human beings live. Its relative indestructibility makes it the perfect way to transport food, beverages, and innumerable other products. It is the same indestructibility that creates the major part of the problem. There are few if any organisms that can actually digest, that is to say, destroy plastic; most of it is broken down into its most basic polymers by ultraviolet radiation and solar heat in a process called photodegredation. These polymers make up the bulk of the plastic that has contaminated the ocean.

No one can say with certainty how long plastics will last in the environment. We will just have to wait and see. The first synthetic plastic, Bakelite, was invented in 1907. Pieces of Bakelite are still structurally sound after more than a century. Our best guess is that, like diamonds, plastic is forever. – Algalita.com FAQ

It seems like we are presented with an unsolvable dilemma. The garbage can be removed from beaches around the world, but there is no way to remove that much ‘confetti’ from the ocean without causing irreversible damage to the marine life.
What’s The Harm?

Photo by Cynthia Vanderlip. From Moore, Captain Charles. “Trashed: Across the Pacific Ocean, plastics, plastics, everywhere” Natural History Magazine 02 Feb 2009.


It seems like the plastic soup out there is just a big ugly mess, but is it more dangerous than that? The answer is yes, aside from being an eyesore, the plastic confetti floating in the oceans is often mistaken for natural food sources. Jellyfish mistake it for plankton, sea turtles mistake plastic bags for jellyfish, and Albatross birds often fly hundreds of miles to find whatever food they can for their young. This information left me wondering who would feed their child a plastic bottle cap if they knew that it would cause starvation?

Photo from Algalita Marine Research Foundation 10 Dec 2008, 02 Feb 2009


Plastic is known for its ability to attract oily substances. That means that it also soaks up POPs (persistent organic pollutants) that make it into the fish that make it onto our dinner plates. Chemicals like DDT and PCB which, to name a few problems, are known to cause birth defects and damage to the nervous and immune systems.
How can I help?
It is estimated that each American throws away 48 kilograms of plastic each year; That’s 105.6 pounds of plastic per person. If the oceans are downhill from everything else the implication is that any wayward garbage that makes it into the rivers, because of major storms or minor negligence, will eventually end up washed out to sea. The best thing we can do is to keep as much plastic from the waste stream as possible by reducing the amount of it we use. Here are a few suggestions:
Imagine how many polystyrene take-out containers could be saved on Valentine’s Day if every person who went out to eat that night slipped their own container for leftovers into their purse or briefcase.
Imagine how many plastic bags could be kept out of the trash cycle if each person used their own bags for their groceries, or used Tupperware instead of Ziploc bags. The grocery bags I use have long enough handles that I can put them on my shoulders. That saves me the mad dash to the door with heavy armloads of plastic grocery sacks.
I would like to close by making a comparison. A responsible pet owner takes into consideration that most dogs live to be at least 10 years old. They must consider if they are willing to commit their resources to a dog for at least that long before they get one.
A responsible consumer would consider the lifespan of a plastic water bottle before purchasing one. You could purchase one 32oz bottle of your favorite water for roughly $2.50; after its one-time-use is up, it will spend centuries on the planet. You could also spend $7.00 on a 32oz BPA free bottle with a screw on cap and refill it over and over again for the rest of a lifetime. I wonder how much money could be saved?

What am I doing?

I'm having mild freak-out. . . This is that moment in my life where I've got a million responsibilities and just as many choices to make and they've all got eight times that many possible outcomes.

I know I can do this. I know I can be a full-time student and keep a full-time job. I just feel like every moment not working or studying is wasted. The semester is in full-swing and it's never good to miss an entire week during the first month because it means the weeks following it are that much more complicated. I am several writing assignments behind, but I'm writing about things I feel passionate about. I don't want to wake up at the end of another semester wondering why I didn't take that class for personal gain instead of the grade or the degree. I will be able to say I put myself through college with very little help when this is over, but I also want to say with all honesty and sincerity that I found myself while doing it.

What will I gain out of Women's Studies beside a better knowledge of what the women who came before me accomplished, and an English elective??? Hopefully a better understanding about my relationship with my body, with food, with my education, with my ideas about what kind of family I want to create and raise, what kind of career I want, and what kind of woman I am. My film class will make me a better writer. My Intermediate Writing class will make me a better writer, but what will I learn about myself in the process? I don't know yet. The reason the prospect is so disorienting and uncomfortable is because inevitably . . . a lot of it will be the damage in me.

I'm kind of intimidated by my choices. I know that I am an incredible woman . . . incredibly talented, compassionate, intuitive, intelligent, capable, powerful, blabhalbhalbhalkbha;lkjdf these things are all important to me, but WHY have I not opened up and done what I believe I am capable of? Why do I half-ass as much as I do? Why is half-assed good enough to continually earn A's and B's? To continually be told by my colleagues that I've done a good job at work? That they can't do it without me? And that they would ask me not to leave them? Why do I feel like, even though I am successfull most of the time, that what I'm doing isn't good enough? That I haven't given it my all, that this isn't the best I can do?

Could it be that I just haven't invested love into my life? I don't mean loving myself (which I am always working on) . . . I mean putting love into my job, and my education. Is this what is missing?

I want all the answers, and I want them right now, and I want more time in the day to discover them!!!! I wish I did not require sleep.

I wonder what it would be like to live an uncomplicated life . . . what it would be like to have my life governed by one set of rules or beliefs that provided all the answers about who I am and what I'm doing here, what I am capable of . . . what is right or wrong or true and beautiful. A set of unchanging, un-evolving rules. Simple, trusting, faith in something. . . these things are something I have never had in all my life. The thing I have trusting faith in is myself, and change. Change that comes as soon as I am comfortable with something. I just wish it were easier to adapt to.

50 years from now, I want to look back and remember the woman I am now and wonder who I've become and who I will be... I wonder what it would be like if I wasn't on a life-long journey of self actualization, but I would not trade my enlightenment for the pleasure of simplicity in every waking moment of my life. I don't know if I will ever really know myself and tonight that is one of the most terrifying thoughts I've ever had. Almost as terrifying as thinking . . . . I don't want to.

This turmoil, these tumultuous moments, the distress and uncertainty, the complete anguish, the uncomfortable, and unhappy times of my life make it so rich and warm and valuable that I could never and I will never stop looking for more of myself.

What are all these chemicals???

Pampers makes some wipes that I happen to like because they smell good and are a texture that doesn't pill or come apart . . . Kandoo is what they are called and they are meant for kids in potty training. They have Water, Xanthan Gum, triglycerides and benzyl alcohol and sodium hydroxymethylglycinate (to name a few with familiar and unfamiliar names), but the one that really gets me is . . . . Hydrogenated Castor Oil . . . hydrogenated oil??? SERIOUSLY???

I do not want to use things on my body anymore without knowing exactly what they are. Does it even occur to people what they are rubbing into their skin? Colour me enlightened.

I will write about my diet in a future update.

Relationships

I am sitting in feelings deep and hard to see through like mud but smooth like honey.

I just got back from San Diego where I attended a convention that the company I work for holds annually. The experiences I had last week reminded me that my job is about the people. Convention couldn't have come at a better time; it has left me reinvested and very excited about my part.

I don't want to lose sight of the people again. One of my owners told me that I will go so far in my life, she could just see it and she knows these things :) Then she said . . . 'but don't leave us'. I was kind of shocked. I regularly fail to give myself credit where it is due. I'm sure my facial expression didn't indicate, but she warmed my heart and soul. She breathed life back into my job. She was only one of many. I want to sit in this feeling for a while, and then I want to give it back to the rest of my department. I want to help them feel what I feel because we all need it.

Armed with this feeling of satisfaction, this week has been wonderful and stressful and exhausting and rewarding and full of anxiety and nervousness and calm and relaxed feelings and love of all surprising things.

I'm about three weeks into my first full-time semester (14 credit hours) and the deadlines are all very intimidating. Some days I feel like I've bitten off more than I can chew . . . which leads my mind to chattering about how I'm not good enough, I can't do this, what was I thinking. Other days I've got myself and I am doing so wonderfully. I just wish I had a little more support and encouragement. ~Something I don't know how to ask for, especially because I don't know what it looks like. I only understand how I want to feel.

It's also time to move . . . any moment now. It's bitter sweet. I like this apartment and had envisioned living here indefinitely. Funny thing is that the home I'm moving into looks and feels a lot more like the place I had envisioned for myself years ago . . . the first time I visited the home of someone renting in the Avenues of Salt Lake City. I'll be glad renting a room from friends. Rent seems like it is such a waste unless the landlord is someone I care about. I am excited to pack up my life, trim some fat, move it pieces at a time to a new room and unpack and rearrange it. I'm a little disappointed to leave my room mate. I struggle with things this permanent . . . . I will never live here again and I liked living here. I wonder what that's really about for me.

Also . . . thought I was ready to try dating again . . . not so much. I mean, this time I'd like to be a little more forthright and make some choices instead of waiting to be chosen and then deciding if I will go on the date or not. However, it turns out that I am feeling more vulnerable about letting someone in than I thought. I'm in the 13th month since my break-up of a 21 month relationship. I'm sure this is normal, the feelings of vulnerability. I just want to know someone cares about me before I open up to them. I don't ever want to have to build walls around myself again. Fences give the right illusion, they keep us in and everyone else out. I don't think a healthy person (confident, secure) needs much more than that and I want my security system to look like a little picket fence with a cheery paint job.

The blues are not so bad. It turns out I haven't fallen into the pit . . . I'm just really close to it. I'm going to back away slowly by committing my weekend to writing. I think I will post my writing assignments for school in here. I invite your comments and criticism (constructive please) to those assignments as they come.

Ideas for my Burning Man billboards . . .

A few days ago, I had a serious conversation with a man who is fast becoming a friend of mine, he looked me in the eye, "It's busy in there isn't it?" My answer was "always". Later he told me I think too much or too hard . . . probably he said both.

Last May when I fell in with my jelly crew I learned something that is fundamental to me . . . when I'm busy and I feel like I've been productive, I don't have as much time to think too hard. This is good because it means less blue, bad because it means I'm not thinking about why so blue. --- I want to spend more time thinking about that and what it really means . . . not just what it implies about avoidance tactics :)

Also to think about are my billboards some of my ideas:

• Mommy, where do batteries go when they die? - This one I don't like as much, but I can't get it out of my head. It's a good example of the kind of thinking I want this to inspire, but it's too campy for this particular plan.
• A picture of a big fish eating one that's just smaller, eating one just smaller, eating one just smaller, eating an open Nalgene, eating a fish just smaller, eating a plastic object a little smaller than that . . . with little pink barbie shoes representing plankton.
• Recycle symbol with four arrows instead of the normal three . . . RETHINK, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle . . . solid coloured back-ground with arrows that are either all one bright color (one that would be unusual for the recycle symbol like orange or hot pink), three that are a standard like blue or green with one orange or pink or what I think would be best would be four arrows made out of coloured debris . . . green soda bottles for one arrow, red plastic garbage, blue plastic garbage, etc. tacked onto the billboard all three dimensional style.

An Old Familiar Friend

This looks like familiar territory. I'm feeling very vulnerable. I'm feeling panicked about school. I want to sell my car, bail on my apartment, quit my job, change my phone number and run away from everything I know. I feel alone, isolated, and unwanted.

This feeling first came up for me shortly after that experience in yoga class I had a week ago. I felt like thinking to myself that 'we need to break up' was a serious insight and I still do.

Last weekend I was surrounded by my friends, my little sister was there and I had been looking forward to that evening all week. I had a weird time. I felt strangely alone and isolated there too.

After the exhausting day I had yesterday dealing with leaving my cell phone on an airplane and running all over the airport by myself I spent the evening alone. I tried to watch Amelie but the subtitles were too much for me. I finally got to sleep. Then my little sister came over. She was out with friends and got back to my apartment kind of late. (I am incredibly glad that she came even though it woke me up. I slept better once she was settled in) It's just been a few things too many where I've felt like I didn't get what I needed. Even when I tried to ask.

I spent a good part of my day in the warehouse today. Barbara moves to Belize on the 18th of February with her husband and wanted to do another project with the Jellyfish before she left. I didn't feel like going, and once I did it was nice to be with my friends . . . but all I could do was talk to them about how vulnerable I feel and then sit with it. I'll be posting the pictures of the project on Facebook.

I know I can't be happy all the time and I do feel like I saw it coming, but it is incredibly unsettling to realize that the blues are back again.

I've had the opportunity to see some of my damage. Intimacy is terrifying to me. Especially when it comes to men. Even good men. I have a hard time answering the questions and it's terrifying when someone can read those fears in me and point them out. At least I know that 'intimacy' is the next thing to work on.

I don't like sleeping alone anymore. I will be so glad to be in a house with people who love me again and I can't wait to bring Sassy home there with me.

I feel like I'm naked, lying on the ground in the dark.

I'm ok.

Last night I lay down for shivasana after another, very intense yoga practice. I had been thinking to myself that I can’t do yoga, that because I couldn’t do all the poses well or correctly, I had wasted my time. I should have stayed at the coffee shop studying. Barbara instructed us to turn over to our side and pull our knees to our chest, arranging our bodies into the fetal position. I was trying not to cry, I can’t do this, why did I even come? She asked us to take a moment to thank ourselves for coming, for spending the time. The tears were gently streaming down my cheeks when I sat up and began to sob.

“It’s time for us to break-up” I thought, “I wouldn’t tolerate it if anyone spoke to me the way that you do, why should I tolerate it from myself.”

I wonder how many women have had a moment like this . . . A moment where it became painfully obvious that it was time to break up with themselves. I’ve made leaps and bounds, but knowing these things and changing these things are two separate things.

Barbara had us focusing on our base chakra last night . . . the red one . . . I tried to imagine things that were red while we were moving through the poses. Red . . . red like rubies, garnets, cherries, the tapestry hanging over the window, red light, red energy, red, flowing liquid, red blood pulsing through my body . . . it's always blood, it's blood that means life or death, blood is good, it means I've cleared out the infection of this zit, itchy means healing . . . I see my own blood almost daily. Violence. I draw blood regularly. Anger, hurt, destruction. Come back wandering mind, red base chakra . . . grounded, rooted, connected to the ground, to the earth. I should take a jar of playa sand to work. Red, swirling energy keeps me connected.

We had a department meeting at work today. This is going to sound vague, but I made a comment in response to something that was said . . . The comment has lots of layers about years past, certain survey results about us, and my own recent thoughts about the disconnect between my own reality and my own perception. (I mean obviously if I'm that terrible a student who procrastinates and wastes time and isn't good enough . . . how come I continually pull A's and B's? There's a significant disconnect there). (I want to be candid, but I am feeling vulnerable here too. Maybe it's all those warnings from dooce.com about writing about work in my blog.) I only meant to back up what was said . . . that it's never a bad idea to step up, to pull together, to work as a team, to do our due dilligence, and to carry ourselves as the professionals we are. Shan said that she hated to put me on the spot, but that I needed to give myself a break, she was worried about how hard I am on myself.

This came as a surprise to me. I have been comfortably riding a steady flow of good vibes for weeks and weeks. I'm tired, but I feel empowered about my semester, about moving to Summit Park, about mastering my finances, taking charge of my relationship with food, thinking about dating again . . . these are just the top things right now. I am changing my home environment because I don't like to be alone, and because I need the comfort of knowing that no matter what the positive direction I'm moving in is . . . I'll be supported. Even if it's weird.

My experience in yoga last night may be part of what made something visible enough for my friend to say something . . . but I still feel a little blind-sided. The conversation moved outside after our meeting and there is more I'd like to elaborate on tonight, but I still have to have a converstaion first.

I'm in the funk this evening. I have two writing assignments to hand in tomorrow and neither are written. I just don't have the energy to write the positive and empowering words I want to give my Women's Studies teacher.

I wish that the intervention I met with today had waited. I don't like it when people and events reach into me and pull my insecurities up to the surface of who I am. I liked them where they were . . . neatly compartmentalized, understood for the time being, put aside while I focused on creating better habits. I want to put my energy into doing the reading, writing the homework, practicing the recipes, keeping commitments to myself about what to spend my money on, what substances to ingest (no hydrogenated oils, and no high fructose corn syrup, etc). I am tired of not being good enough, and I felt like I made a significant leap into defeating that insecurity last night . . . to have it called to attention again, with an audience this time.

For the greater good of me, it was benificial. Every experience is a learning experience and I feel liberated because I got to tell most of my department today that I don't know how to ask for help. I got to hear that when they offer, I don't accept. I got to hear again from the people who have my back. I had to try not to barf for a minute though.

P.S. Why are men such an enigma?

How does one go about understanding the feminine and masculine qualities within herself? and How am I going to relate to men as I enter the dating world again?

Everything is so new!!!

In a million directions at once

Occasionally, I am not able to formulate the wordy and eloquent entries I like to write . . . today is one of those days . . and so, a list:

Even though the rules for this blog are to write about how I feel . . .

• Tonight is one of those nights that I could dance for hours. I cleaned up my bedroom a little bit. I am considering the incredible amount of reading/writing/studying I could/should do to prepare for next week. There is a baby shower for my cousin tomorrow. My mom wants me to test-ride a horse. All the effort of getting dressed, driving over there, and yadda yadda isn't really a big deal, but the cold is daunting. And at last, my inability to leave before anything is over. I want to stay in and read, and I want to go out and dance for the next 5 or 6 hours. I want to sleep tonight, not come home at 4:30 or 5:00 am tomorrow.
  
• I deserve some time to meditate, and a good night's rest. Why do I only allow myself this on the weekends when I am not obligated to be out of bed and at work before 9:00 AM
  
• I am excited to move to Summit Park with Jared and Amie. That will be happening sometime between Feb 1 - 14 depending on how things shake out with my current roommate. I like my current roommate and so it is bittersweet to leave this apartment. I am more excited to be in a new environment with people who I love who love me. Plus the potential opportunity to bring Sassy along.
• My horse is limping. Her shoulder is not doing well. My mom is not sure I will be able to use her for riding club next summer. She is moving ok until it's time to run . . . I'm hoping bute (like ibuprofen for horses), or cortisone shots will keep her sound. But my mom decided she would tell me about this injury and then show me the advertisement for a black and white paint, 9 year old gelding. My feelings got hurt. I had been dreading the words "might not be able to use her next summer" for the last 3 years. Sometimes she is not very sensitive to my tender little heart.
• I am worried about our planet. I'm worried that major corporations are going to destroy the Rain Forest in less than 20 years, that our oceans are poisoned and over-fished, that human beings are so greedy, and hungry for power and control that we are going to destroy ourselves before we realize how urgent these problems really are . . . I am sad about plastic in the ocean, pollution in the air and in the ground, I am sad about the mass-production of animals for meat, that they pasteurize almonds and cheese effectively removing everything good about them, cheese is basically colored, flavored, antibiotics, because the cows udders are so chapped, cracked, bleeding, and infected that they have to get pus and blood out of the milk . . . I wonder if mothers who have breast fed compare the two . . . dairy cows don't even have the lubrication of saliva . . .
  
• I am quite seriously considering taking my diet to the next level . . . I don't want to eat eggs and cheese. I don't want to drink milk. Fortunately this doesn't have to happen all at once, and there are acceptable substitutes for the things I'm afraid to give up (like mayonnaise).
• I am taking Women's Studies, Intermediate Writing, Computer Essentials, Film and Culture, and the Film teacher just added me to his production class . . . basically that means I'll show up at rehearsal sometimes and help with props for a few extra credits this semester. Fun, Busy, And new directions for me.
• Jelly crew is talking about creating an art installation called "Soundhenge" wherein we create a replica of Stonehenge and put speakers in various positions around it to create a surround sound experience . . . and then we will rock-out dressed like druids in the desert. I offered to be the 'people-manager' to help coordinate work parties, the fund raiser we will have to throw, etc.
• Wondering how many polystyrene take-out containers could have been saved in Salt Lake City alone tonight . . . if everyone who went out to eat in a restaurant took their own Tupperware for their left overs.
  
• A friend, Jen, and I are considering starting a student organization at Salt Lake Community College with concern to protecting our environment. There isn't a single one at the moment. I am turning into quite a little activist, and it's good.
• I am still conceptualizing my billboards for the burn this year, and will post my plans and drawings once this gets more concrete . . . I like to stew, process, and talk about my ideas before I start to actually plan the details. These plans include fliers to tape up inside the port-a-potties.
  
• Thinking about what my co-worker said today about artificial sweeteners, colors, and flavors causing mis-fire in the synapse of the brain. I think ADD could very well be a result of these things and I intend to eliminate as many of them as possible from my diet. Another co-worker can accurately identify the green and red M&M's, blind-folded.
  

Ok, so the rambly is done now, but . . . . For Heaven's Sake . . . please help me save our planet!!!

Oops, the tale of my hilarious office blunder

After about 5:00 pm in the office, the phone stops ringing, the emails slow down, and there are next to no distractions in the environment outside of my cubicle (pictures forthcoming). So on a day like yesterday, where I don't feel like I've been very productive, I like to stay late.

James left at 6:00 pm and I got my email down from over 100 to about 30. At 6:57 pm, Briawna called me to confirm our Gray's Anatomy plans. (you see, our Thursday night soap opera is one of the things that guarantees I will see my best friend at least once a week.) We decided to get burritos and realized between commute times and the last minute errand she needed to run that we would be in her living room right in the nick. I got up from my desk with a loaner electronic key to the door and went to the bathroom.

I went to the back-door to re-enter our office suite and my badge made the beep, but the clicking sound the door makes when the lock disengages, failed to sound off its duty. I tried again. No clicking, no entry. I went to the front door and tried it several times with no success.

I locked myself out of the office. I tried dialing a few extensions to see if anyone else had stayed as late as I had and it was quickly becoming apparent to me that I was the last out of the building . . . seriously locked out, with no one left to open the door for me. I went to look out the window on the back of the building and the

The good news was, that I was inside the building with my cell phone in my pocket; the bad news: I was wearing a tank-top and jeans, my blouse over the back of my chair. My coat hanging on the wall with my keys in the pocket, my purse on the floor, gaping open, my wallet on the desk next to my MP3 player, and most likely there was music playing in the headphones plugged into the jack on my computer which I had left un-locked. I called Briawna back.

I was feeling slightly concerned about my wallet and MP3 player, but I have no secrets to hide on my computer. I started to imagine weird scenarios: coming in this morning, looking like a grease-ball who is wearing yesterday's outfit, to get my keys. I was laughing out loud to myself in the empty, echoing lobby. I called Briawna again to let her know that yes, she probably should come get me I had tried all the people I could think of (of course I found out this morning that more than one person has a badge that will open the door at all hours) and I was not going to get back in.

I stood around for half an hour, looking at my reflection in the window, wondering how long till my friend arrived to rescue me and thinking that I'd be telling this story over and over again henceforth when suddenly a door downstairs opened.

I peeked over the banister at the gentleman coming up the stairs. When I saw a t-shirt and gym shorts I thought "that guy can't open the door either". . . .

"Boy am I glad to see you!" when I realized who it was . . . one of guys from IT coming up from the gym. I called Briawna to let her know I was in, she changed course, and I gathered my things to leave.

Free Will Astrology

I have incredibly mixed feelings about the whole deal of astrology. I don't believe that you can use astrology to predict the future. I don't believe that people should live their lives following the advice of a horoscope. I don't even think that most astrology offers reasonable, much less, good advice. But, the Salt Lake City Weekly has an Astrologer that I really enjoy. I occasionally use my City Weekly for movie listings, restaurant suggestions, to see who is going to be here in concert, but usually I flip right to the back to read what Rob Brezsny has to say to me this week. Plus . . . since I am right on the cusp of Aries and Taurus, I usually help myself to two servings. This week Rob says this:

Aries (March 21-April 19)
It's a great privilege to live in a free country. You're fortunate if you have the opportunity to pursue your dreams without having to ward off government interference or corporate brainwashing or religious fanaticism. But that's only partly useful if you have not yet won the most important struggle for liberation, which is the freedom from your own unconscious habits and conditioned responses. Becoming an independent agent who's not an unwitting slave to his or her past is one of the most heroic feats a human being can accomplish. And you, Aries, will have more mojo to do that in 2009 than you've had in a long time.

Doesn't this just resonate with last week's entry?

Taurus (April 20-May 20)
American financier Jim Rogers evaluates life as many devout capitalists do: under what circumstances can he achieve the most wealth? That's why he relocated to Singapore. "If you were smart in 1807, you moved to London," he said two years ago, "if you were smart in 1907, you moved to New York City, and if you are smart in 2007, you move to Asia." With that as your spur, Taurus, I'd like you to identify the driving force of your life. The desire for more money? More power? Wisdom? Love? Status? None of the above? The next step is to meditate on the environment and the conditions that would be most conducive to fulfilling your quest. In 2009, you'll have exceptional potential to create the ideal context for your success.

Now if you only knew about a most delightful offer that was made to me on Friday, you would be shitting your pants!!!

One day I had an upsetting break-up and I wished that day for new people in my life and I meet the Jelly Crew. I take an English class because I need to get it over with and I meet the first person in my life (who was a stranger) to tell me that I have it in me to write "If that's what you wanted to do," and I decide to switch majors to follow a dream I've had since I was a kid. I spend some time in a home that has the right sunlight, the right energy, the right smells, and the right friends and I can't leave because it just felt sooo good to be there. Within a matter of a months, I make some changes, start to get to know my roommate and think to myself for the first time in months . . . "I like the way my life in this apartment looks". But the thoughts still linger and before I even have a chance to say out-loud to someone that I would like to move out of the inversion and into the wet pine and fireplace smell of the mountains, I am offered a bedroom. Some reflection on this offer put a lot of priorities into perspective and before taking the time to regretfully decline, I get a phone call with a new offer . . .

I just want to say, that opportunity seems to knock most often, when I am happy with what I have already :)