I'm baaack!

As is "customary" for this blog (I think customary refers to more than a blog that has been running for slightly longer than this here guy ..but go with it...) I tend to grab summer and all it's glory and run as far from my computer as I can. Which is actually sad because, just this summer in fact, I got this brand new shiny Mac - which I loooove. But, my point being - I'm a little rusty, I need to get back into this ole' blogging thing.

I also want to get back to this because this is my roots. I am a writer. And lately I've been in a rut. Nothing wrong, per say, just not particularly enthused/excited/ecstatic with life. But I think it comes down to my creative release, or lack of one lately. Writing is my release. And writing in this forum, where, even if no one reads, I can still put my words out to the world. "Open my heart to the universe" as a wise friend once said (or a hippie yoga-freak, more likely).

Someone recently responded in shock when I told them what I did for a living. I said with pride, that i was an editor. I write. This person laughed, and then, with a look of absolutely astonishment on their face said, "What!?! You can hardly utter a coherent sentence!" 1. You are an ass. 2. That might be true, but when I sit in front of my computer (old school pen and paper, the machines change, the method does not), I'd like to think I can change that perception. Yes, I have my awkward moments in life. I've accepted that, and I think that lead to many a funny story in my life. Maybe verbally expressing myself isn't my forte. But bottom line is that I'm a writer. I love words. I love telling stories - or re-telling stories.

So this is my way of getting back to who I am. Maybe no one reads this, and that is fine. Maybe if you met me IRL (!!) you'd be shocked at the poetic lyricsm that flows from these fingertips (wink ;) har, har). But as my yoga instructor told me last night, as I nearly fell over for the 5th time during "tree" pose - you have to let the energy flow all the way through, out past your fingertips.

And that's what writing does for me. I take all these crazy, insane thoughts in my head, and I push that energy out through my fingertips, through the keys of this sweet-ass mac, to your screen. My oratory skills my be lacking. Hell, my social skills may need some work. But, damn it, I will write you under the table.

Take it or leave it people, I'm back!

A Memory

It's been months, you've moved on - at first it was a hopeful quest, and then it became something you had to do for your sanity. You tell yourself, and honestly believe that it was for the best. This is how it was supposed to be. Some have even said you "dodged a bullet." You see him pop up on gchat every one and a while. And while it sometimes, still pulls at your heartstrings, you no longer feel what you used to - you no longer feel much at all. And again, you internally pat yourself on the back, thinking of how far you've come. How far the circle of it all has come - from intrigue, to juggling, to the realization to feelings, to slow heartache, to friendship? Or whatever it is that you are now at.

And you go on with your life. You go out with your friends, you have new crushes, get excited about new boys. You are very content, happy in your life. One night you have a lovely birthday dinner with a friend - mac& cheese and a couple glasses of sparkling white on a beautiful and a surprisingly cool night for this hellish summer. Maybe it's the nostalgia a rainy summer night can bring, or that its the same time of the year when you first begin that fun, crazy summer romance, once so carefree. Maybe its in the face of another budding romance that you remember the potential it all once had, but you stumble on a photo. Or a conversation. All those feelings, you long since swept under the rug, come rushing out.

You have the intense urge to talk to him, but know you cant. You know that whatever it was you shared all those months ago, is long since gone. You wonder what he is doing right now, but realize that will get you nowhere. With those that have come in between, there has not been anything close to what you didnt know you had, at the time. You're not comparing, just realize that was something special that wouldnt be as much, if it was so common. Though you sometime question it, you firmly believe everything happens for a reason. Sometimes, those reasons take longer to figure out, and sometimes you never really do. So, you suck it up, remembering the time you never though you'd get to where you are now. You're still surprised by your emotional flashback, but remember it's just that: a flashback. A memory.

"There was a midsummer restlessness abroad - early August with imprudent loves and impulsive crimes. With little more to expect from summer, one tried anxiously to live in the present- or, if there was no present, to invent one." - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Last Tycoon

Guest Blogger: Chuck Norris!

(Editor's note: I am happy to bring you the first of what I hope are many guest blog posts. This guest blog is written by a good friend who will be known a Chuck Norris. This codename has a variety of ties with his actual personality, not least of all that he hails from the great state of Texas. Anyways, without further adieu, I give you Chuck Norris.)

Hello. How has your day been going? Never mind that. Now I know we don't know each other, but I want to ask you something. Can you please try to remember this in the future? I mean, try to remember the first time you read this. I ask of this because I don't want you to forget. Not that I don't want you to forget me, but I don't want you to forget the first time you read this. I'm serious. Look at the time. What time is it? Is it 9:09 am? Is it 4:59 pm? Is it cold where you are at? Is it really quiet, or can you hear your obnoxious co-worker going on and on about their weekend trip to Kennebunkport, Maine. Hey, I don't have a problem with New England adventures and cold air coastlines. But when they are visited by and then told of by someone I don't care too much for, I find them hard to like at that moment. Now, if the trip had been revisited by a friend or someone whose company I enjoy, then perhaps I wouldn't say such things. After all, what are friends for?

Surely you can appreciate friends or the company you keep. See, the company you keep at one point or another, must have been a worthwhile endeavor. Can you remember the first time you met a good friend? Your neighbor? Your brother? Your sister? I'm beginning to sound like that guy in that five-hour energy drink commercial.

Well, let's see, where do I begin?

Let me tell you about the first time I met one of my good friends (editor's note: me!). I, well I was eating a really boring meal. And she, well she was reading F.Scott Fitzgerald , I think it was This Side of Paradise. I know it wasn't The Great Gatsby, for had it been, I would have been able to talk about Gatsby. Instead it was, "yeah I like Fitzgerald, but not as much as the one who wrote The Snows of Kilimanjaro. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah." I'm sure if God were watching this unfold, he/she would have been asking, "What day is it? Sunday?" And one of his/her little helpers would have answered, "It's more like Monday."

It's not that listening to the bs or small talk that came out of my mouth wasn't a worthwhile exercise, but anyone reading F. Scott Fitzgerald in the school cafeteria would certainly be able to see right through my bs. And I know you may think BS is bad. But let us examine if by viewing BS from the bigger frame, we can see how much of a good or a bad thing BS might be.

Think.

What if BS never existed? Politiks and perhaps prose would be shown the door immediately. Sen. Joseph McCarthy and the red scare? Nope, as Edward Murrow would have said something much earlier. Christopher Columbus discovering what is now known as the West Indies? Nope, as the Queen would have rejected BS. She knew BS when she saw it. And the Trojan horse? Well, you can forget about that too. So you see, without BS, very important circumstances in our world's history would have been nullified. Instead, they are now vilified! Well somewhat. I don't think shooting the bs with a bound-to-be-friend acquaintance is so bad. I mean, it eventually led to in-depth conversations about life, liberty, and the pursuit of romance. She calls them "heart-to-hearts." But if held after having a few drinks, I call them reality checks (we can talk about reality checks at much later night).

But reality isn't so bad. Once you know that we are all in this together, then you know that BS can be quite fun. If you haven't done it, I urge you to try it. But beware, sophistication doesn't come overnight, and even the best of the best have slipped. Just ask Bill Clinton, Tiger Woods, and Winona Rider.

Saved by the Sea

What are springs and waterfalls?

Here is the spring of springs,

the waterfall of waterfalls.

A storm in the fall or winter

is the time to visit it;

a light-house or a fisherman’s hut the true hotel.

A man may stand there and put all of America

behind him. ”

- Henry David Thoreau

Sometimes, when the week has been too long and you realize that even the nicest people are starting to get under your skin, it's time for an escape. I had one of those types of weeks last week. I am lucky to live in a culturally rich city. People flock to cities to cultivate their intellect, open their minds to new people and experiment with foods, art, music - enrich themselves. But people are drawn to nature when they need to clear their mind of the clutter, refresh their energy and come back "home again." For me, the ocean, the waves crashing on the shore or and the sand beneath my feet, takes me to this place. I feel at peace near water. Or sitting on a boat, feeling the lull of the tides, I am both at ease and rejuvenated.

Unfortunately, I can't get to the beach as often as I'd like. I'm lucky when I am able to make it down to my families river house, something I hope to do much more of this summer. But it is because of this effect water has on me that the BP oil disaster is especially devastating, in addition to the environmental and economic havoc it is reeking. How can we be so careless with something so important and fragile?

This is what David Helvarg explores in his new book "Saved by the Sea." Helvarg is a journalist who has covered many international issues over the year, but truly made an impact when writing on the environment. This latest book recounts how he transitioned from a journalist to dedicating his life and work to preserving the world's oceans.

Below is a short excerpt. I've never read nay of Helvarg's stuff, but I plan on reading this book this summer, hopefully somewhere where the waves can reach my toes.

"We broke up, but not cleanly. I moved to D.C., away from her and my other love, the sea. Right after I started writing the ocean book I’d always wanted to, she found a lump in her breast. I was with her through the chemo, which was awful but seemed to work. I finished Blue Frontier (W.H. Freeman) and was on the Deep East Expedition 100 miles off Nantucket when Al Qaeda hit the twin towers. When I got back to land Nancy told me her cancer was back. I was with her for the last few months, in the hospital and home hospice, where we could watch the waters of the bay flowing in and out with the tide. After she died at 43 we had a memorial service on one of her favorite beaches. It was a gusty day, feisty like the gal, with the winds whipping the sand and frothing the cold translucent waves. She used to say I never looked happier than when I was coming out of the water after getting beat up by the waves. But the ocean can also provide solace, give you a sense of being part of something larger, even when large parts of your own soul have torn away."

Babies, Babies, Babies

This post is something I just can't ignore. Too many random things have happened in the last few days that make me feel the need to write this expose.

I am not a baby person. Never have been, never will be.

Ok, I lie. I actually do hope, that one day, I may meet a nice fellow, settle down and pop out a few (no more than 3 MAX) kiddies at some point in time. My whole mindset is somewhat skewed but whatevs: I dont actually look forward to the baby through pre-teen years of the kids' lives. However, I think it would be nice to have grown children, when I am an old gieser. Judge me as you will, people have kids for all different types of reasons. This is mine.

Anyways, I guess I'm not really a baby person because I havent been around that many babies. I dont have that many cousins and none of them have had babies. So yea, there is that.

But lately, my life has been all "babies, babies, babies".

Ok, not really but babies/kid things have been occuping more of my time in the past couple weeks than has ever my entire life. Case in point:

Incident #1: This past weekend we went to meet our friend's new baby. Although slightly scared, I was excited to see what kind of offspring our goofy friend had produced. On the drive over there, Blackberry and I stopped at a stoplight and looked over to see the second cutest puppy ever (first being my parents') sticking his tiny little adorable head out the window and looking directly at us. Squeels of delight ensued and then Blackberry said the most honest quote of the day, nay, week.

"I wish we were going to meet a puppy instead of a baby."

I was thinking the EXACT same thing. We can pet a puppy and play with it with less fear of killing it or damaging it psychologically. In the end our friend's kid was pretty freakin' cute, but there was no petting or playing. And certainly no holding, on my part of least.

Incident #2: Yesterday during lunch I went to a coworker's place (aka her sister's sweet apartment that we jacked to watch TV) and watched a show called Little Miss Perfect. This show follows pagaent constestants as they compete. And the contestants are like 5-year old little girls with mostly (and i apologize this i mean but,) "ugly as sin" parents who are trying to live vicariously through their children. Or are just demented. Anyways, I found it appalling that the name of the contest is "Little Miss Perfect." WTF is this supposed to teach little girls. First of all, nobody is perfect, and you should not strive to be. However, that is the title you win if you win the "Little Miss Perfect" pageant. So, basically this is telling all these little immpressionable girls is that since they did not, in fact, win the coveted crown, they are clearly far, far from perfect. Actually, they are what we would like to call IMPERFECT. Gasp.

Incident #3: Last week I went to my volunteer reading. A couple of interesting things happened during this little visit. First, I needed the manager to let me into the room where we hold the readings because it was locked. We got to talking and when I told him my name, he seemed shocked. My last name is, weird and long, to say the least. The man looked at me and goes "Is that your married name??" Um, no sir, no it isnt. I've never seen someone look so relieved. "Well, we better get you married off with an easier name. There is still hope for you child!!" I looked at him and said dead seriously,"I know. That is why my future husband can only have 7 letters or less in his last name." He knew whatsup.

After he asked he tried have me relive my childhood by skipping around the room, to which i politely declined, I got to readin' to the little kiddos. Only two kids showed up and the one girl was intent on reading the My Little Pony book. I think I enjoy going to reading because the kids innocent delight in reading such a simple and clearly outlandish book still amazes me. I guess I loved My Little Pony at some point as a kid, but how did I forget the names of the characters in this!?

I read to them the story of Rainbow Dash and the costume party. All the other little ponies gave her their costumes when hers sadly ripped and she couldnt go on. And then there was Minty who had severe stage fright when she had to walk in Sew-and-So's fashion show, but of course Sunny Daze was their to encourage her and give her the confidence go on. And of course I'd be remiss if i didnt mention Sparkleworks and how she came across the magical Pegasus pony who granted her greatest wish. Ah, I could go on all day about Pinkie Pie and Kimono, but I dont wan't to spoil the endings.

Overall, I've had a big dose of baby/kid stuff this past couple weeks. And while it's all fun and games for now, I think puppy adoption is a little more up my ally for now. However, clearly I am great with kids and available for babysitting purposes. (Disclaimer: As long as the kid is above the age of 13.)

How Green Is Your Summer

Alright so my going green has somewhat failed so far. And, I used my car more than I had anticipated this week as well. I’m a work in progress right now, but I figured those that can’t do…teach! While I’ll still do my best to “go green,” I can still spread the gospel…what else is the Internet for if not repurposing material posted by others? I came across this Green Guide on National Geographic’s Web site and found a fun little quiz, “How Green is Your Summer.” Being the overachiever that I am, I cannot resist a good online quiz. I began this little quiz with some trepidation, what if it revealed that my summer activities were the antithesis of green? But I clicked on with confidence. Here were the results:

Question 1 : “It’s time to barbeque! What kind of grill do you use?” (Nature gas/propane; charcoal; electric).

Hmm, I don’t even own a grill, does that mean I automatically win the green quiz? Off to an excellent start

Question 2: When you throw a clambake or a summer garden party, how do you ensure that you’re having an eco-friendly fete? (By using reusable dishes and utensils instead of disposables; conforming number of guests, and cooking just the right amount of food; buying vegetables from the farmer’s market; all of the above).

Come on Nat Geo, c’mon! Obviously when I throw my semi-annual clambake I bust out the reusable china. What else would be appropriate to serve clams on. (Really, who has a clambake??)

Question 3: Your body is beach ready, but is your swimsuit? How will you choose what you’ll wear to the pool this summer? (Check online for that eco-friendly bikini or pair of trunks you’ve been reading about; Go for the newest, hottest styles..never heard of an “eco-friendly swimsuit”!

First of all, NG you are just too sweet. However, we are a long ways from having a beach ready body. This fact may help answer how I will choose a swimsuit (full coverage, thanks very much). But in all seriousness, unfortunately, I’ve never heard of an eco-friendly bikini, but apparently “women’s swimwear designers like Aaron Chang for Urban Outfitters and Rogan Gregory for Target, and men’s swimwear designers for Billabong and Patagonia are now making eco-friendly swimsuits from recycled plastic bottles, recycled suede and recycled polyester. Alright, I will maintain an open mind. As long as none of these materials attract barracudas, I’d be down. (Since when was suede waterproof BTW?!)

There were a few more questions, but you’ll have to check out the quiz for yourself to learn some sweet summer greening tips. Overall I scored 67 and was told that I am “off to a good start.” Awesome. Now I just need to make sure Mr. Chang’s swimsuit wonders come in separates…

One Art

One Art
By Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.