skip to main |
skip to sidebar
It has now been almost two months since my first blog entry, when I felt a bit out of my skin and not quite sure what to write. I was even a little concerned , because I didn't want to seem full of myself in any way (these reflections inspired by this.) As I said before, I thought blogs weren't necessarily a good thing.
Boy was I wrong. I have found the perfect outlet for my creative energy, and even solace for when I am feeling lonely, frustrated, sad, or fill-in-the-blank.
It has been a slow letting-go, though. At first I was a little worried about people being able to read my blog. In fact, I didn't make the link public until I had something like 15 entries! As a friend put it "Wow, you have a lot of content for nobody knowing about this." Ok, so I'm a little shy...
This fear has kept me from writing freely and from my heart at times. I hate to admit that most of the time I wonder what people would think about the things I am writing about. What if they didn't like it? Agree with it? Or judge me in some way because of it?
Luckily I am becoming more capable of listening more to what is on the inside than on the imagined outside. Of not caring what others think about what I write. On a larger scale, it has helped me along on my mission to discover the true me, and stick to it. And write from the heart.
Getting there, at least. I still have those thoughts, and still don't feel my entries are as free as I would like them. But, as with everything, a slow progression, and the happy realization that I am less afraid.
I just spent an hour downstairs cleaning out the garage. Very humid, creepy (crawly) and hard to do.
My object was to clean out a lot of old things. Especially those that I haven't looked at literally in years. It served as a symbolic clearing of the mind, too. 
Brushing those cobwebs away, moving the old stuff out and making room for the new.
There were some things I couldn't give up. Old letters, pictures, ticket stubs, and the like. My goal was actually to get a rid of a lot of that stuff, but it was just something I couldn't do. There were some things that were too pivotal in my life to pitch the physical reminders.
Looking through all that memorabilia is always something that reminds me that I am constantly changing, and constantly improving. There were a lot of things that I liked to see and remember, but just as many things that made me feel a twinge of regret, sadness or disappointment. They always say to live with no regrets, and I try, but some memories are difficult to re-experience.
Overall, it made me grateful for this last year alone, and realize that I still have a long way to go. But I am changing, in that much I can take comfort. Not only that, but that I will be ok...
Solitude is something that I have always needed more than most people. I am naturally a quiet person, with perhaps a bit too much going on in my head; I enjoy the opportunity to put recent events into perspective. This, I have found, is best accomplished alone.
This past year in Houston, however, I have been blessed with too much of a good thing. At times I resent this quite a bit, but I must also admit that it has been an opportunity to really become familiar with myself.
It is almost dizzying to realize how much we can become the people around us. Sometimes I believe that we are only a conglomerate of the people in our lives, and just individuals in that we just absorb different traits from different people. But other times, I believe that we are true individuals, and that we just have to figure out who we are.
I can say that I am closer than ever to knowing who I am, and that, I feel, is a great accomplishment. There were times when I had no idea - I would define myself as being in a relationship with another, belonging to a certain group/subculture, or even as some sort of image I built up around myself. Of course, all of these proved to be very fragile, for if someone perceptive came along, this definition was dissolved easily.
Being alone has allowed me to sort through all of my old definitions, and despite feelings of loneliness, sadness and at times downright despair from too much seclusion, there has arisen an individuality. One without the need for props such as image, a romantic relationship, or a particular group. Solid, and real. And very satisfying, even comforting to know that it cannot be shaken, because it is truly me.
Solitude, though at times difficult to endure, is very valuable indeed.
My freshman and sophomore years in college, I became a smoker. (Rebellion? You betcha.) Luckily, I decided that wasn't a very good idea, and came up with a strategy for quitting.
...Actually, I'm trying to make myself sound like super woman, so let me start over...
After a half dozen times of quitting, then starting again, nearly losing hope, and close to resolving that I would be a smoker forever, I decided on a whim to to go to MSC Open House and look for an athletic club to join that would motivate me to quit.
Of course, I had no idea what I wanted to join, but I knew if I spent enough time I would find something that would give me the proper drive. After a few hours of wandering around, I narrowed it down to rowing or cycling. The rowing club had a meeting that conflicted with a work shift, so cycling it was.
During the meeting, there was discussion of a mountain bike race that weekend in Comfort, TX. I didn't think much of it, but a few days later I decided I wanted to go and called up the mountain bike VP and nailed it down. 
Now, Comfort is a pretty tough course. 9ish miles of rough rocks, roots and difficult hills. It was my first time mountain biking, and despite the slippery course after a light shower and the slow torture of my legs, I was hooked!
So there it is. My introduction to the great sport of mountain biking. And for a few years after that, it was a source of good friends and the time of my life.
After I graduated, I continued to ride now and again, but (very) unfortunately developed a case of tendonitis that has kept me from riding for the past year. After something about 6 months of frustration (and a bit of crying I must admit), I accepted reality and decided to let it heal. For a loooooong time.
Tonight was one of my first few (very slow) rides. I have only been riding once a week, and hoping to re-establish flexibility to the area and with the slow passage of time be able to ride as I once did.
See, cycling (now both road-riding and mountain) is one of those things that just did it for me. Something about the rhythmic cycling of the legs, the whirr of the wheels, and the zen-like concentration it took to keep a steady pace on a trail. It was powerfully meditative.
Not only that, but it was an easy way for me to make friends. It was a super-fun activity in which all skill levels could participate, and it didn't involve getting inebriated and staying out until the wee hours of the morning (although we did also do that more than a few times...)
I can't wait to get back into that. Now I just have to get my legs to cooperate with me. Or rather, I will cooperate with my legs and bring myself back up slowly. Then it will be an easy reaching of the zone, and perhaps I can make some new friends that share something in common.
It is seriously time to have fun.
Last night I got home, and put on Wildcat, by Ratatat, the most fun song ever. This one song turned a switch in my brain: I played with my cats for an hour, did a little jig doing the dishes, sang in the shower, played with the cats again, and slept in my bed in the complete wrong direction. In my bright pink sushi pajamas.
This afternoon, I got off work, played some more fun tunes, let loose, and here I am. Now I'm venting. About how little I let myself play. And then I go nuts! Gotta get some fun in. Go out! Play in the dirt! Dance! Sing like a fool!
But no, gotta be professional, pay the bills, clean house, take my responsibilities seriously, be a big girl. What a drag!
My solution: for one week, after work, I am shrugging off all responsibilities and going to play. This is my agenda for the weekend:
1. Friday night - Mel Brooks marathon. Eat popcorn. Maybe sling back a few.
2. Saturday - go the the beach. Rain, shine, or thunderstorm, my ass is going to be sitting out there. And I'm going to play in the sand, sit in the surf. That evening, I'll be harassing a friend who lives in Galvy. Then...?? May the night lead me to good times.
3. Sunday - recover?? That evening, go play with the horsies.
Ahhhh. No cleaning, bill-paying, thinking about work, trying to be "good". Ah yes, nothing of that sort.
And it will be good fun!!
At home in Canyon Lake for the weekend. This first day already has been nice. Had lunch and coffee with my dad, and spending time with my mom. She just got home from a three-week trip to Ireland, and is full of stories.
Always a good thing to touch base with the parents, and even better when there's no set schedule.
Pretty quiet here, especially compared to pavementville. Few cars, and my mom has the best wind chimes ever right outside the door. I'm not generally a windchime fan, but these are amazing; they sound as I would imagine the singing sirens.
It's very nice to regroup (escape!) here after a super-busy week. Pet the dogs, watch the rain from the comfort of slouchy leather couches and warm blankets ('cause she keeps it frigid in here). No temptation to clean the apartment or do anything else productive. Just sit.
Ahhhh.
On the way home tonight, Seven Bridges Road (the Eagles version) played on the radio. I was amazed, because I haven't heard this song since high school. (yeah, it makes my head spin to think of how long ago that was...) It brought back some memories of when I would sit for hours playing solitaire, and play this song (more than once...), and be filled with such good feelings.
This was the first song that got me into folksy-type music. That down-home, down-to-earth feeling that I just love. Sort of how it feels to drive down a gravel road while on your way with good company to spend some time among nature.
There is one time I remember, when my whole family (grandparents, aunts included) drove down a gravel road and spent a week camping down by the Nueces River. A time when I was young and it was easy to appreciate people and things for their individuality. I remember admiring my aunt for the way she wore her hair, my grandfather for the way he would stare off into the distance while sipping his morning coffee, and another relative for the way she easily seemed to be able to step over river stones. And then there was the big swayed tree, where my brother and I would sit and listen to the river. There was also the sound of the frogs at night when we would barbeque and sit around the fire for dinner. All of these little things added up to a memorable experience.
Now, later in life, I am trying to regain that capacity to appreciate the little things, and after a lifetime of trying to ignore them for supposed bigger pursuits. Financial concerns, so-called social acceptance, misguided accumulation of knowledge...the list goes on. Lately I am learning that those things aren't quite as important as they seemed a few short years ago, and I am left feeling extremely liberated and real.
And now, my focus is on the things that matter: the people in my life, appreciating the little things, getting out in nature, and keeping the music around that helps me to remember what those things feel like.
I love nights like tonight.
Not too long ago I returned from a very satisfying visit to San Francisco. It was an incredible experience - plenty of interesting streets to wander, people to watch, and parks to visit. Not to mention perfect weather to enjoy.
A few areas of interest:
Filmore Street - known for it's jazz music, and a collection of boutiques and coffee shops. My preference, of course, were the coffee shops - mostly because everything else was wayyy overpriced ($375 for a shirt??). I managed to wander onto this street (completely by accident - on my way to the Haight-Ashbury area) right around 6 PM, just when a jazz/arts/crafts festival was shutting down. I was sorry to miss out - it looked interesting enough. The remaining people, however, were fun to watch as I walked along the main drag. All sorts were there - hippies, gays, the more affluent types, even a few hobos. That evening, I waited at a bar until my 12:30 am pickup time where I met some interesting folks. Most notably a young person who was interning in the city for the summer and had perhaps the best perception of people that I have come across in quite some time. Very refreshing.
Golden Gate Park - Wow. This place fulfilled every single pre-conceived notion I had of San Fran. Hippies. Harmony. LSD. Even daisies. The best thing, though, I did not expect at all to happen. A friend of mine and I were driving around the park, and I saw a rough little trail that wound up into the trees. I asked him to stop, and we went and explored this little spur. After a few hundred feet, we were stopped by an incredible sight - thousands of little moths fluttering though the air and sitting among the leaves. The most striking element of this experience was the silence, while being surrounded by so much motion. Quite a peaceful moment there. Later, we wandered over to an open area and found a drumming circle complete with dancers. A few appeared to be...intoxicated. Young and old, and feelin' the love! Hippies?
Haight-Ashbury - Serious hippie-ville. (Wait, they're sort of everywhere in this city.) Tons of super-cool stores featuring secondhand clothes and unique articles made of hemp, velvet, wool and other interesting materials. These were fun, but again I enjoyed the coffee shops and people most.
Muir Woods - this is actually near San Rafael, a town about twenty minutes north of the city. Amazing. This was a forest of redwood trees among mountain peaks: two huge things combined to make you feel pretty small, and pretty lucky to be seeing such a marvel. We also seemed to arrive at the perfect time - late afternoon, when the sun was slanting in at the trees with a slightly softer light than high noon. I filled two gigs of camera memory here. Over 4oo fantastic pictures that were set up for me - no work to look for the really good shots. We also checked out Muir beach. My first Pacific experience, and pretty frikin' cold!
Of course, there were many many more places that I could go on and on about. These were among my favorites, though.
Overall, San Francisco is a great place to visit. Perfect (yes, I mean perfect) weather, interesting people, and lots of beautiful scenery. It has a sense of harmoniousness that you don't really find in many places, with higher energy nicely grounded by mountains and redwoods. And the smell; a very distinct pine and mint smell that is unforgettable. It fills your nostrils within a mile of driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and gives you a high that is certainly better than that offered by any glass of wine found in Napa Valley.
Fun times, and surely on my re-visit list.
For more pictures, click the links below.
Muir Woods and Beach
San Fran
Last night I went to see Transformers. Totally a guilty pleasure-type whim, as action films are usually not my preference. However, despite outward impressions, I'm a big sucker for the technology/fantasy films.
This definitely was one of the most fun movies I have ever watched. Not what I would call a moving film, but the animation, sound effects and cinematography were very good. All of these combined created a very "large" feeling to the movie, from the robots themselves to the scenes in which they were found.
The computer animation I'd say made the main characters about as real as you can make gigantic robots look. One particular scene comes to mind where they were walking alongside a white building in the sunset. They managed to match the light reflecting off the robots to the light on the building, with the robots moving among the levels of the building in such a a way that made it appear as though they were really there. The sound effects, too, really added to this film. A mix of theater-shaking booms from the footsteps of these giant creatures and electronic tones for virus-implantation and the various weapons used by the bots. The cinematography was also creative and quite beautiful - upside-down shots, unexpected close-ups and sweeping landscape scenes all contributed to the "huge" feeling of the movie.
The battle scenes were by far the most well-done of the film. Huge wow-factor. The first attack scene hooked my attention that left me looking for more. Creative weapons technology, and a sense of chaos that you would expect to experience if you were really there. This sense was carried into the following battle scenes - you never really got the luxury of a full picture of the robots as they were fighting it out, and quick movements momentarily confused the eye.
You don't expect too much story-wise from these types of movies, but for a technology/action film, the storyline was believable - a super-man/kryptonite similarity. The robots were given a touch of humanity, and a nice sprinkling of humor throughout the film was entertaining.
Very good movie choice overall. Not because you want to be moved, but because you just want to have a damn good time at the movies.
