Green-Eyed Monster

Do you remember the first time you ever felt jealousy? I do. It was in kindergarten and Rudy Richards (little hotty that he was) was my sorta boyfriend.

He used to run at me, kiss me, knock me on my dainty little butt and take off like the wind again. Ah, bliss. My heart did a little pitter pat whenever he was around. He always shared his apple with me and would push me on the swings. Plus he had a really nice mom.

Life was sweet until Rudy set his sights on Judy Thompson – the little  harlot with her ruffles and dimpled cheeks. Oh yeah, once he saw her, I was like yesterday’s milk. No more running kisses for me. His heart had been taken by another.

Well, that’s all water under the bridge now. And it’s especially fun that he grew up to be a hoodlum and God knows where Judy ended up.

But I wonder, did the Rudy incident set me up where men were concerned? Did he instill in me a distrust at that young an age? Did he scar me for life? Hell, no. But it is amusing to think about.

So, what was the first pang  you ever felt from the green-eyed monster? Did you survive it? Are you still hurting? Did you have the last laugh?

WC

Balance…I Need Balance…

This is how I feel when the writing is going good. All the right words, all the right concepts. It flows, it’s fluid. It’s gooood!

This is how I feel when everything I write sucks. The words won’t come. Everything is sticky and stodgy and cliche and I’m convinced I simply can’t write, not at all.

Where’s the balance, people? What does a lowly writer have to do to find that smooth, even keel they are always talking about in life. Doesn’t it apply to writing? Why the hell not?

So, there you have it caught between Heaven and Hell and watching reality television. Ah…the writer’s life.

WC

What Would the World Be Like Without You?

 

As I’ve said probably too many times – I love the movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. Because I love the premise – What would the world be like without you? To me, that is a fascinating concept.

I mean, think about it – how many lives do you touch during the course of your life? How many times have you intervened without giving it a second thought – and possibly saved someone’s life? Stopped someone from doing another harm. Made someone laugh and change their mind about taking some dark course. Encouraged someone so much that they went on to succeed at something they might not have ever tried?

Like the lady I saw looking at peanut butter at the grocery store. I didn’t know her, I’d never seen her before in my life. Yet, I was compelled to say ‘make sure that isn’t one of those brands they found with semonila  (sp) in it.’ Now why did I say that? Was there some perception on my part that the food would hurt  her? Did I instinctively know she shouldn’t eat the dang peanut butter? As it turned out, she didn’t buy it and thanked me for saying that.

Or the kid I chased down the street to give a sandwich to because I knew he was living on the street and was hungry. Maybe he didn’t try to steal money from an old lady later that day because he didn’t need to. I don’t know and I’m not trying to make myself out as some sort of hero – not at all. I’m just an average person who tries to live as a decent human being, despite my rants and the things that aggravate me. I try to help people. To encourage people. It’s so much easier to give love than to withhold it. To help than to harm.

I don’t know what the world would be like if I weren’t in it. I don’t know if anyone would notice that something was missing. Maybe so. Maybe not. But I wish I could be like George Bailey and get a 24 hour period where I could see my life without me in it. I suspect it would make me much more grateful than I am, for all the many things in my life that I take for granted. And perhaps there’d be a few surprises that would make me feel differently about me.

I guess my point is that we all (too often) feel small and powerless in the world. And maybe even feel as though our efforts don’t matter in the greater scheme of things. But I think they do. I think that the aggregate of our small acts of kindness, love, help and awareness are part of the greater scheme of things. And without them, the world is a smaller place. We are all special and important in some way, to those we know, those we encounter and even those we don’t know.

So, what about it? What do you think the world would be like without you? I really want to know.

WC

Is Blogging Meant to be Therapy?

 

You know I haven’t been at this blogging stuff for very long – a few months – though it seems more like years. Or really it seems like something I’ve always done. Perhaps it is, in a way, as a writer I’ve always had these sort of running dialogues ripping through my mind and occasionally they ended up on paper or computer screen.

They are often seem endless. Non-stop, going at the speed of light thoughts that are questions, ponderings, annoyances, wonder, shock, stupor…you name it – it’s in there. Then suddenly…nothing. Yep, it all stops and I feel a kind of statis. As though my mind simply went on vacation and really I’ve said or thought every thing there is to say or think and well stick a fork in me cuz I’m done.

Still, even when I’m in that empty-headed state I still feel the urge to express thoughts, ideas, points of view. Is it arrogance on my part? That I believe that my thoughts are so important that I must commit them to paper and publish them on the Internet, or (so the dream goes) in books and magazines, newspapers? I mean, really, what is so special about me that I  have the irrepressible(sp) urge to force my views on others? Am I forcing or am I simply looking for a meeting of the minds across the great spatial divide of cyberspace? Am I looking for understanding, agreement or just a safe, warm place to rest my weary head? Could be all of the above or none of the above.

Are bloggers really just writers who have turned to technology to get their message out? Or are we all just a bunch of losers who need to air our problems, concerns, insecurities and little life tragedies just to feel okay about ourselves?

 I wonder, I really do wonder about this stuff. Particularly on days when I don’t feel especially funny or witty. See, in case you missed it that is my thing. Don’t know why but really I live to make people laugh. I would go through just about anything to put somebody in hysterics. Do you think that is a sterling quality or a character flaw? I don’t know. Do you?

During my short adventure as a blogger I have read and visited many blogs. Many more than I ever would have thought I could or would want to. Initially I think it was curiosity. Like, gee there are bagillions of blogs out there and there must be something to this stuff, you know? I mean jeez everybody seems to be doing it – maybe if I read enough of them, I’ll know why.

But despite my research and reading and following and discovering of the many blogs I’ve found and stumbled upon, I still am no closer to answering that curiosity than I was the day I started.

When it comes to blogging it seems there is something for everyone – knitters, political junkies, writers, poets, dancers, artists, musicians, geniuses and idiots alike. But in the greater scheme of things does it really contribute to the oneness of the allness of the human community? Or are we all just trying to vent enough to get through the day without committing murder and mayhem? Trying to get by the things in our lives that disappoint and baffle?

I know in my case sometimes the only thing I had to look forward to was blogging later in the day. Or at least responding to comments from readers. That little burst of joy I felt whenever I saw I had a comment on something I’d written. But why? Do I need that validation from readers? Is it important? Is it silly?

If I pulled the plug tomorrow on my blogs would it matter? I mean truly – would it change a thing other than for me? LOL – I’m just totally lost on this topic. Cuz I really don’t know.

And  honestly, I don’t have a big bang up ending for this entry – so I guess I’ll just leave you guys with the questions for now. Hopefully somebody has some insight or at least a couple of funny come-backs.

Later kids.

WC

My Kind of Teddy

“I care not what others think of what I do, but I care very much about what I think of what I do!. That is character.”

– Theodore Roosevelt

(Known both for his larger-than-life personality and his many achievements, Theodore Roosevelt was the youngest US president at age 42. He was born in 1858 in New York. He led the Rough Riders, a motley volunteer cavalry, to victory in the battle of San Juan Hill. As the “Trust Buster” president, he instigated some 40 lawsuits to break up monopolies. An ardent conservationist, he put 230 million acres under federal protection. The Panama Canal was begun under Roosevelt. He died in 1919.)

That Teddy was my kind of guy. Course today in this politically correct world, they’d probably destroy him. Thank God, he was around when it was okay for men to men and for leaders to lead. God bless his soul.

WC

Mixed Bag

 

Usually the end of the year is a pretty fun time for me. I love the holidays and the cooking and the eating and the laughing and all around making jolly stuff. A week of happy absent-mindedness follows and then the new year sort of mosies on in – like a new pair of comfy slippers you slide into. Then I start the traditional de-cluge and start chucking accumulated junk, clothes that don’t fit or I never wear, knick knacks that are weird, old socks, dustballs, furballs, this, that and so on. The purge feels good, and it goes nicely with the taking down the tree and putting away all the Christmas stuff routine. Then I start to make plans – what do I want to accomplish in the new year? What do I want to try? Who do I want to meet? Where do I want to go? Stuff like that.

However, this year has not been like that. It kicked off in a sort of rocky fashion and really it’s been rough waters for pretty much the whole ride. It started off asking for a raise and getting a token one – big disappointment but I managed to live with it. Constant attempts at diets that just didn’t go anywhere but the back of my mind to nag me. A lot of shifts in relationships – some good, some bad. A lot of the ‘usual’ activities carried on with my friends didn’t happen. We saw less of each other – busy lives, other things and responsibilities to attend to, shit happens. Roomie was laid off and even though it didn’t happen to me, I still felt the sting of it in a thousand different, tiny little ways – and I even got a bit depressed about it. Zelda, my usual comrade in adventure was otherwise engaged between work and caring for a friend who had suddenly taken ill. The company I work for started to tumble and is tumbling still – which may not seem like a big deal to many but I’d worked very hard to market the company and get its revenue up and had succeeded (hence the request for a raise) and then it all went to shit. I honestly don’t know where we’re going from here. The little voice tells me to get another job – and perhaps that is what will happen – but when you invest that much effort and creativity in something it hurts to see it go by the wayside.

I also started blogging. At a friend’s urging. I didn’t think I’d like it and was surprised to discover I did – and how. There were times, honestly, no lie, when the only thing I had to look forward to was blogging. To see comments from readers, to see my hit stats increasing and increasing. In a strange way, it got me through some very depressed moments. For that, I thank you, Michael and you, readers. Obviously, I couldn’t have done it without you and no matter what happens in the future it’s been a helluva ride and a delight by and large.

The other byproduct of this year is that I find I’ve been doing a lot more thinking that I usually do – I suppose part of it is because of the blogging because you’re always looking at what you’re going to post next – you’re more engaged in the thought process of life I suppose because of it. But it was also what has been happening in the world this last year – politically speaking, it’s been brutal to the point that I can sometimes barely stand to read any news. So much hatred and vitriole spewed this way and that. So much stupidity and lack of care from people in general. Efforts to essentially outlaw religion, rename Christmas and turn our government into the evil, maniacal machine – whilst fellows like Chavez for example is some great humanitarian. Turns my stomach. And made me seriously worry about what will happen to our world if we don’t wake up and do something.

So, I’d have to say this year has been a mixed bag and the new year coming seems to be a mystery bag in the making. I don’t know the course the ship is going to take – but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe if I let the ship guide me the adventure will be a delightful surprise. I sure hope so.

Happy New Year everybody. It’s been a pleasure meeting and knowing every one of you. I thank you for the pleasure of your company, your comments, your insights and your humor. A completely unanticipated but much appreciated gift.

Much love,

WC

To Every Thing…

I find this rather appropriate to consider especially as one year ends and a new one begins. WC

1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
9 What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
10 I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it.
11 He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
12 I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. 13 And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labour, it is the gift of God.
14 I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.
15 That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past.
16 And moreover I saw under the sun the place of judgment, that wickedness was there; and the place of righteousness, that iniquity was there.
17 I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked: for there is a time there for every purpose and for every work.
18 I said in mine heart concerning the estate of the sons of men, that God might manifest them, and that they might see that they themselves are beasts.
19 For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity.
20 All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.
21 Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?
22 Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?

Ecclesiastes 3 King James Bible

Dream on Dreamer

Dream on Dreamer
Broken dreams have I
Pasting them together
with no reason why
Scattered out before me
they shine like
broken glass
Why I keep on trying
I dare not even ask.

Why I keep on hoping
that the day will come
that what I have created
will known to some

Why I keep on looking
for days of brighter light
why I continue in this
fleeting, lonely plight

Dream on Dreamer
Illusive dreams have I
and when I reach for them
they take off for the sky

I wonder what I’m doing
and wonder what it matters
and if my broken dreams
will rend my life to shatters.

copyright 2006

Her Name Was Helen

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure.” Helen Keller

Translation(mine): Go big or stay home.

If you’d like to learn more about this amazing woman, go here.

WC

Conflicted

I may seem like I always know exactly how I feel or what I think. Or that I am really well acquainted with the path I am supposed to be on. But the truth is, I ain’t. Like many, I am constantly conflicted.

Perhaps this is an occupational hazard – maybe it’s a you know, writer-thang. I suppose it’s feasible, we deal in imagination and make believe a lot so I guess it’s easy to get confused about what I want to be when I grow up. Of course, there is that proviso that I have to grow up. And maybe that is where the conflict arises – I don’t want to grow up.

Mom used to tell me when I was a little kid that I was born 40. I didn’t really understand what it meant, but I did know it was kind of an insult. Perhaps I wasn’t chipper enough as a child, or because I preferred to sit in the apple tree and read rather than play with dolls that made me a non-user-friendly kid. Who knows? But my point is, I’ve already been an adult. I was an adult when I was a kid – so now I want to be a kid. Never mind the fact that each day I am greeted with some new ache, pain or bizarre loss of flexibility. Never mind that Miss Clairol isn’t covering those little ‘ultra blonde’ hairs as well as it used to. Never mind that my ass isn’t defying gravity with the same gusto of days past. I still want to be a kid.

I want to tell bad jokes, laugh at my stupid behavior and be unabashedly honest no matter who it makes uncomfortable.

All fine and well you might say, ‘be a kid.’ There’s only one hitch…I know that I really, truly can’t. I know that bills have to paid, laundry has to be done, savings have to saved, teeth have to be cleaned and all the other many things that go with being a responsible adult.

I have always chosen the responsible path. I wanted to stay home and write and live on mac and cheese and be a bohemian. But did I? Nope, I got a job, paid my bills and acted responsibly. I wanted to read and paint and dance. But instead I took the car in for a tune up, paid more bills, worked a 40 hour a week job and punched in and out. Always too exhausted to do a damn thing by the time I got home.

All the great, fresh ideas and plans that rumbled through my head during the day while I was ‘working’ magically disappeared during the drive home. Was it because as soon as I arrived I had doggies that needed to be fed, mail that needed to be opened, dinner cooked, obligatory conversations with roomie? I dunno. All I know is that they vanish into thin air and don’t return until there isn’t a damn thing I can do about them.

And it’s not fair and I guess I could pout about it for the rest of my life. But I’ve already pouted about it for more years than I care to admit and it’s gotten me no closer to where I want to be. Let’s be honest, being a victim isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. In fact, it sucks.

So, somehow thanks to this blog, and those who (I am so grateful) read it plus a little help from my fwends’ I am managing to pursue a tiny little piece of my dream in the most childish manner I can muster. I have been emboldened by having this blog. By having the happily unexpected response of regular readers. My writing has improved – my mental clarity has increased and I am so much more aware of life and people and all the many things that are happening around me.

I’m still conflicted and perhaps always will be. I was raised in a blue collar family and working hard for everything is a way of life. So, if I don’t feel like I’m working a part of me doesn’t feel like I deserve success. And I have to tell you, blogging isn’t work to me. It’s fun. It’s defying my age, my upbringing, my public persona and it’s totally freeing. Conflict be damned! I’m not sure I could ever stop blogging. I know I definitely don’t want to.

And so dear readers – though I may never best my conflict – and possibly never reach the totality of my dream – I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me just the tiniest, shiniest part of it.

WC