A Charlie Brown Ad Agency

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Happy Turkey Day!

I had to share this photo. It came in my regular etsy email as a crochet hat pattern someone is selling. The pattern is $7.50, but making the hat and wearing it to your family dinner?

Priceless.

I love etsy. There really is something for everyone.

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Sheehan Supports the End the Fed Movement, Carlin Shares Our Sentiments

Cindy Sheehan speaks at the San Fran End the Fed Rally





Why George Carlin would've been supporting us, if he was still with us.

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The Federal Reserve is Neither Federal, Nor a Reserve. Discuss.

You will probably not see much news coverage on this, if any, but today thousands of people gathered in 39 American cities in a national rally to support a movement to abolish the Federal Reserve. I participated in the Chicago rally. I'm guessing approximately 200 or so people attended.

Today's date (11-22) has double-significance for the cause. It's both the anniversary of the highly confidential meeting on Jekyl Island where an elite group gathered to plot the execution of the Federal Reserve and the anniversary of the death of JFK, the last President who dared to take actions against the Federal Reserve. We rally started at 401 N Michigan where the Festival of Lights activities were going on, then moved through Millineum Park, through downtown streets, until we ended up outside of the Chicago Federal Reserve building. The crowd's chant was End the Fed and many wore t-shirts and carried signs with the same message. I refused the free t-shirt because I didn't like this message. It's too confusing and only makes sense to people who are already informed. Not only that, but I've recently come to believe that the only effective focus of a protest effort is on the positive message of the change you are seeking (example: an anti-war message is not as powerful as a pro-peace message.) So, my message today was to encourage people to become educated about our monitary system, how it affects us as individuals, and to take a stand for a currency not based on debt. At one point in the the march, an older gentleman who held an End the Fed sign and had been chanting End the Fed wondered aloud why people looked at us as if they were confused. I explained to him that End the Fed is a terrible message because people likely think we are protesting to end the Federal Government or they are unaware that the Federal Reserve is not a government institution. They just aren't educated about it. As soon as I said that, he agreed and started telling other people the same thing. Later, two young girls handing out t-shirts and a teenage boy approached me and asked me what message might be more effective to tell people as we marched. I said that we should explain that we are protesting to get rid of the private bank that runs our government. Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, but they agreed it was a more direct explanation. I also told them that the most important thing about today's rally is to incite people to ask questions about it and get them motivated to learn about our government and I believe we were successful in that goal. The sign I carried read, "Stand for CHANGE, Support HR 2755." Though the U.S. fiat currency has been a problem since the inception of the Federal Reserve, the issue has been ignored by the public at-large until recently as it now directly affects every American's personal income. So, there is no better time to educate than now, while people are looking for answers to what real options we have to improve the American and global economy without infringing on our civil liberties.

What I enjoyed most about the rally is that, while I knew that most of the people there were either Ron-Paul-republicans, libertarians (also RP supporters), or constitutional party folks the rally was not party-focused at all. As we walked, we got thumbs-up and smiles from people of all walks of life who were shopping on Michigan Avenue and State Street. Even ones that were not exactly sure of the connection between the Federal Reserve and our financial crisis could tell that we were a friendly group of people who were taking a stand for the rights of all Americans. Some even thanked us for marching and for our attempt to inform the public. There were many beautiful moments like this. One woman who was shopping with her two young daughters wondered aloud about what were were marching for. I stopped to explain it to her and almost before I could finish she enthusiastically thanked me for informing her, grabbed her daughters by the hand and jumped into the march screaming right along with us.

There was not a single opposing voice to be heard as we walked, because there is no reason not to support getting rid of the Federal Reserve. Since it the Fed was created, the dollar has decreased in value 98% and the next step is either a regional or world currency to replace it. The problem with this? The private bankers (Fed) who control the U.S. will then control the world, because the group that controls the money source has all the power (including military influence) no matter what official is elected by the people.

Some actions to be ready for based on history: when the inflation gets so bad we cannot afford food and gas, the government will mandate fixed prices on these which will cause nationwide shortages of goods and fuel. When there are shortages, people get desperate and do desperate things to feed their families...enter Martial Law. Once Martial Law is instated, the world as we knew it will be a very different and scary place. Check out the circumstances of the Weimar Republic prior to WW2. You will find many parallels. All of this would occur because of the declining value of the dollar which is due to our money being a "reserve note" (an IOU note + interest) to the Fed (those non-elected people living high off your tax dollars).

America hasn't always been this way. The way to combat inflation and return to a stable economy is to go back to a monitary system where the dollar does not represent debt, but rather represents something of actual value: gold or silver, as it once did. This was the basis of the today's rally. This is the ultimate goal. It's the already-proven answer to the economic crisis. Now, if we can just get Obama to take up the torch. :) If that happened, I would know he could be trusted to lead us into a better America. But then again, he may fear the fate of JFK to stand against the Fed. If the majority of the American people supported abolishing the Fed, the governing elite would know better than to lay a hand on Obama if he jumped on board for this. There'd be too much at stake. This time, we'd be too informed to not know who'd be responsible and we might just take justice into our own hands.

- jen

p.s. The best explanation I have seen to-date on how our money system works is on the Zeitgeist Addendum video (see my link on the lefthand side). Since the whole video is 2 hours+, you can get the abbreviated explanation of just the U.S. money system by watching it beginning at 7:05 minutes into the film until 25 minutes in. It is a truly amazing account of why the middle and lower classes will never get ahead, by design.

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How, on a date with Brett, I fell in love with Charlie.

It was about six or seven years ago that I met a guy named Brett via my singles dinner club job. In fact I just completed an interview for the position of event host at an event location prior to start of a dinner event, was hired on the spot and was asked if I could stay for the dinner as a guest to cover a last-minute, female cancellation. I agreed. After all, I was single and thought it would be best to try the service before I began marketing it. It was at dinner that I met Brett.

From memory, I can only describe Brett as cute. He was a few years younger, though his boyishly handsome face and features made me feel significantly older. He was on the shy side, not very talkative, but kept making eyes at me during our Cajun seafood meal (Soul Kitchen was the restaurant that night, for those of you who remember the place that used to be on the corner Damen and Milwaukee) . We both had the blackened shrimp and decided we've had better shrimp dishes elsewhere. Not much conversation took place. So, I was sort of surprised when SK (the boss) called me to request my approval to pass along my contact info as Brett had indicated an interest and wanted to schedule a one-on-one date with me. I double-checked with her to confirm that he was even of drinking age. SK agreed that he looked young, but insisted that he was 23. I think I was 26 at the time. Anyhow, information was exchanged and our first one on one date was over lunch in the loop on a weekday.

Wet met at a diner that used to near the Quincy el stop on Wells. I arrived first and grabbed a booth. He arrived about five minutes late, apologetic, and looked very troubled.

"What's wrong?"

"I just...I've had a really rough day at work today."

"Already? It's not even noon yet?"

"Yeah, I know"

Even at his young age, he was already vice president of a options trading company that his father owned, more specifically: wheat options. I had asked what options are exactly and the definition I got, while graciously as elementary as could be expected of the subject, was still beyond anything I could wrap my mind around.

He went on to explain why his day had taken a bad turn. "You see, this date will go on record as the most expensive date I've ever had."

"But I haven't ordered anything yet." I assumed he'd gotten a parking ticket.

"I know, but the thing is, this date has already cost me $26,000."

My jaw dropped. "What do you mean, $26,000?" Clearly not a parking ticket.

He started blushing as he confessed, "I was so very excited about seeing you and having lunch with you that I missed a very important transaction that I had on my calendar this morning. I just completely forgot about it. Missing it cost me $26,000."

"That's a lot of money."

"I know."

"You look sick."

"I sort of am. My Dad will be pissed."

"Yikes...Well, I was going to order the fish sandwich and a glass of milk, and I'm good to pay for my meal...and yours, too, if you'd like."

"No, I'm getting this, I insist."

A voice in the back of my mind was calculating $26, 006.82 and then wondering if this meant I had to sleep with him. ;)

In attempt to lighten the mood, I asked him about what his favorite movie of all time was if he had to narrow it down to only one. One film that maybe changed his life or that he could never tire of. I told him Magnolia was probably my favorite film. After hemming and hawing around for a bit, mulling over his favorites, he answered: Hot Chick.

"Hot Chick?"

"Yeah, The Hot Chick have you seen it? It's got Rob Schneider in it, from Saturday Night Live. That shit is hilarious! You have to see it! It's the best movie EVER."

Yes, of all the films in the known universe that Brett could have chosen as his personal favorite, he chose The Hot Chick. It was this precise moment in time that I knew it was over.

I was not going to marry this man. I was not going to have this man's babies. C'est fini.

For the rest of the meal, I told him stories about the crazy investment bankers I worked for and he told me about redecorating his condo, something about picking out wood floor colors and needing a woman's opinion on the decorating choices. All I know is, by the end of our lunch, Brett wanted to see me again and the brief image of his father firing him from the family business over the day's $26,000 loss was leverage enough to guilt me into a third date. Brett wanted to see a movie with me sometime the following week. I could hardly wait to see what the film choice might be.

Cut to the following week: He had given me a choice of movies. I don't remember what all the options are, only that I chose to see Adaptation. I had no idea what the film was about, but I knew it was by the writer who wrote Being John Malkovich, which I had liked well-enough. We met at the Landmark Century and the theatre was so crowded for the show that we could only get seats in the very front row. From the opening monologue, I became completely engrossed in the film. It just so happened that about two weeks prior, I had seen a Nova special on PBS called Orchid Hunters that was based on the very Susan Orlean's book that Adaptation revolved around and I couldn't get it out of my mind. I was obsessed with it. I had decided after seeing the Nova program that I wanted my next full-length play to take place in a greenhouse and explore some of the passion behind orchid hunting. Imagine to my surprise (it actually gave me goosebumps), as the very script of Adaptation unravelled before me. Even though I was in the front row, I found myself sitting on the edge on my seat anticipating every next word spoken, every new exciting nuance that made that film so amazing. I forgot I was even watching it with someone. In fact, I think Brett may have tried to hold my hand a few times, but I was too busy admiring the work of the great Charlie Kaufman to even notice someone was holding my hand. By the time the credits were rolling, I needed a cigarette, and I don't even smoke. I was in complete an utter awe the craft that went into the writing of that film, I practically speechless. On our walk out of the theater, Brett said apologetically, "Sorry, I thought it was going to be better. But, it had it's moments, I guess. What did you think of it?" I stopped walking, looked him square into his big brown eyes and replied, "That was one of the best films I think I have ever seen in my life."

Surprised at my answer, he started to backtrack..."Yeah, it was pretty good, I guess. Had some very funny moments." I knew he was referring to the moment in which the character of Charlie was masturbating to the photo image of the Susan Orlean character (Meryl Streep). I knew this because it was the only moment during the film that I remember being aware of Brett at all. In fact, everyone in the theater became aware of Brett during that scene because he erupted into guffaw laughter while the rest of the audience sat silently watching. I was momentarily embarrassed for him.

In any case, that night Brett and I parted ways with talk of maybe getting together again, though, fortunately, nothing ever came of it. I will say, that seeing Adaptation did delay my attempt to write about orchids and orchid hunting as I felt I could never measure up and that now it wouldn't even seem original. Eventually, I did write the play Le Chalet d'Orchadia several years later.

Anyhow, I write this because it was that date with Brett seeing Adaptation that marked the beginning of my love affair with Charlie Kaufman films. Since then, I have also enjoyed his films Human Nature, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and tonight I add Synechdoche, New York to the list. I caught the Sunday afternoon matinee at the same Landmark Century theater. While watching it, I thought...this is not for everyone. This is not for Brett nor is it something for most people I know. But, for me, nothing much beats it. I still had moments of goosebumps. Especially when we are first introduced to the house that is on fire but never really burns. It very closely resembled the dream I had several months ago that my office burned down. In the dream, I was at work, but instead of being three floors of a high-rise, the office is housed all in a large one-story building. There is smoke all around and I discover that it is because a sofa and a chair are on fire, just burning away. Most people are simply going about their business as if nothing is happening, with the exception of three HR execs who are sitting casually around the burning furniture blowing on it, to try and keep the fires contained. I reiterate to them that the building is on fire and ask if they've called 911. They say they called someone several days ago no one has come yet. I convince them that we need to evacuate the building immediately and they do this, reluctantly. Everyone slowly leaves and gets on shuttle buses that are supposed to take us to safety and there are fires on the buses, just burning and smoking and no one seems to notice. It's as if it's normal everyday environment. Even when I awoke from the dream, I understood why I dreamt it. It was a wonderful metaphor for the self-destruction the company was going through and continues to go through. The dream ended with a dialogue exchange in which I decline the CEO's offer to get me a drink from the bar (in another room with a fire blazing in a fireplace) and I tell him that I am leaving soon. It was my awareness of my limited time left with the company. So, you can imagine how crazy it was for me to watch those scenes in the film.

My dream reference allowed me to notice that the only moments that Caden was aware of the passage of time was when he was alone with Hazel and only in association with Hazel's home, because fire consumes and whatever is on fire is something that is passing away before your very eyes. It also allowed us to know that we were learning Hazel's story through the mind of Caden (gave us perspective).

I also dream repeatedly of massive structures that are only partially built, such as Caden's cityscape in the warehouse and also I have dreamed about the big air blimp that shows up in the background of this film at least once. I can't help but wonder if Kaufman and I have the same types of recurring dream elements. Perhaps these are common dreams, though. I can say, I have only once dreamed of being in a scene with another version of myself and Kaufman seems to enjoy playing with ego and alter-ego characters in his works quite a bit. I love that Caden and Adele's artistic disciplines are opposite extremes: hers being the smallest miniature paintings likely ever to have ever been painted and his being the most massive, three-dimensional, theatrical set that has likely ever been built. Such beautifully ridiculous polarity.

What I admire most about Kaufman's work is that it is so marinated in raw honesty that it is messy and dripping with it. In fact, Synechdoche is probably the messiest of all his films in that it is far from being a nice, tidy plot. You are infused in Caden's confusion right along with him from the moment he is struck in the head. In Adaptation, Kaufman wrote about a screenwriter named Charlie Kaufman who is given the opportunity to write a screenplay adaptation of an actual book and the very screenplay is about his process of writing it. In Synechdoche, Kaufman's directorial debut, the story follows a director who is given the opportunity to write and direct something magnificent and the process in which he attempts to do this in that same Russian-nesting-doll style he does so well. You can't get any more honest than documenting the process of creating what you are creating while you are creating it. Synecdoche also contains some of the most beautiful spiritual symbolism that I have ever seen in a film. It meets me right where I am, right now; so, it's my cup of daily tea. There is no better cinematic illustration I can think of that emphasizes how life is a journey and not a destination, that we are responsible for creating our own reality, and that everyone and everything is a part of the same universal life force- all of this in a show versus tell style that is so rare in writing. Caden's accident lends itself to the showing of Kaufman's ideas about life by justifying Caden spending much of his time in his subconscious mind rather than his logical mind to let us see what lies beneath the surface - our creating mind. Still, I know that Kaufman is only scratching the surface of both philosophy, spirituality and his many talents, leaving me hungry still for whatever might be next.

And, while I have never seen The Hot Chick, I'd bet my first-born that it could never measure-up to a Kaufman film any day of the week.

p.s. The photo used for the Cannes poster actually represents one of my very favorite moments in the film.

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Free Agent, Reporting for Duty

So, I finally, officially, got the boot. My position was eliminated in another round of cutbacks. Working as a slave to Corporate America is a thing of the past. Now I shall be working as a slave to clients, hopefully nice, respectable ones as a virtual assistant. Need to find more clients first. This will keep me quite busy.

So, what did I do to start off my first day of unemploy...I mean....self-employment?

I admit, somewhere between letting the dog out, heating up some quiche and brewing coffee with my new French-press coffeemaker, I did some actual jumping up and down like a child on the first day of summer vacation. There's just something inherently beautiful about a day that doesn't begin with a 45 minute bus and el commute with your face in someone's armpit.

Mars is so confused. He can't decide if he should be inside or outside or sleeping or playing or begging for food. We are in need of a new routine.

I will be working on my marketing materials and website for the next couple weeks. I'll link to my site once I'm live. As always, I will keep you posted.

- jen

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Great Words on Political Issues

An election is nothing more than an advance auction of stolen goods.

-Ambrose Bierce


It stands to reason that where there's sacrifice, there's someone collecting sacrificial offerings. Where there's service, there's someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters. And intends to be the master.

- Ayn Rand


A government with the policy to rob Peter to pay Paul can be assured of the support of Paul.

- George Bernard Shaw


When you subsidize poverty and failure, you get more of both.

-James Dale Davidson, National Taxpayers Union


If CON is the the opposite of PRO, does that mean that CONgress is the opposite of PROgress?

-Gallagher


They that give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.

- Benjamin Franklin, 1759


A government that is big enough to give you all you want is big enough to take it all away.

-Barry Goldwater


...You cannot help the poor by destroying the rich. You cannot lift the wage earner by pulling down the wage payer...

- Abraham Lincoln



Alcohol didn't cause the high crime rates of the '20s and '30s, Prohibition did. And drugs do not cause today's alarming crime rates, but drug prohibition does.

- US District Judge James C. Paine, addressing the Federal Bar Association in Miami, November, 1991



They came first for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant. And then they came for me and by that time no one was left to speak up.

-Rev. Martin Niemoeller, a Protestant minister in Nazi Germany, in 1945; from "Political Quotations", Daniel B. Baker, ed.


A democracy cannot exist as a permanent form of government. It can only exist until the voters discover that they can vote themselves money from the Public Treasury. From that moment on, the majority always votes for the candidate promising the most benefits from the Public Treasury with the result that a democracy always collapses over loose fiscal policy always followed by dictatorship.

-Alexander Fraser Tyler, The Decline and Fall of the Athenian Republic

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Somewhere Between Mint Chocolate Chip and Cherry Garcia

The qualified presidential candidate, in my opinion, is the one who believes in

a) maximizing individual liberty and b) minimizing government power.

So, who do you think I'm voting for?


Answer: It doesn't matter. We are screwed on both fronts either way.

Every election, no matter who is named on the ballot, only the same 2 flavors get legit exposure and once again, neither candidate is truly inspiring when it comes to policy reform on these accounts. No matter who the winner is, the government will have us by the proverbial balls by choice a: design or choice b: deception. Same results, different language and approach. I'm just happy to stop hearing about the election soon.

I believe BIG CHANGE is on the way, but not as a result of electing a new American President. I think it's well beyond the scope of that. Much bigger. Spiritual. Revolutionary. Evolutionary. Progressive. And that's what I'm really psyched about. This election stuff is child's play compared to what's in store for humanity on the whole. Simply follow today's great thinkers and creators and you will find inspiring ideas and discoveries not covered by CNN, MSNBC, or FOX.

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the goings-on

I've been working a lot. If I'm not at my day job, I'm working on various graphic projects, sme I am actually getting paid for, though at a deep discount for portfolio purposes. Currently, these consist of a non-profit logo, two book covers and eventually two websites...

I am also rehearsing music still with the trio. We have learned 25 songs and are still polishing these. Most of my rehearsal away from rehearsal involves me simply listening to the music over and over again to memorize every nuance of Julie's voice and get the notes and tempos down. It has been interesting to witness how three different guitar players and a bass player also approach learning music from a recording. Two of the guitar players who also teach music have had to first transcribe the exact notes on the two recordings we are imitating while the other is so much an ear person (like me) that he has not transcribed a single note and is nailing it better than either of the sight-readers. The sight-readers are twice removed from the original, it takes them much longer to really process the music while us music-memory people are once-removed and are quicker to learn. The weird thing is that I recall musical notes way better than I remember lyrics, so it's the lyrics I am struggling to recall. So, I am trying to get it down just like the rest. But my music memory is so good that, if we do the songs in order: one after the other, I can grab the precise note of the next song without any cue because I have memorized the relationship of the last chord of one song to the first chord of the next. Like anyone cares, really...but, to me, it's like seeing mom and dad put my crayon drawing on the fridge when one of the guitarists looks at me and nods like: hell, yeah that's the note! with a twinge of mild astonishment.

If you haven't checked out the Zeitgeist films (see my links), by the way, ho-ly cow, you should. But you might a) have difficulty sitting through them cause they are both a good 2-hours each b) not sit through any one of them because 20 minutes in you find them personally offensive c) you watch them both and decide I'm a complete lunatic and shuld be medicated or d) you watch them both and can't stop thinking about them. I fall into the (d) category. But these will offend people, especially the original movie, because it basically traces Christianity back to pagan roots with such detail that you can't really argue against this. For me, it's a good summation of a lot of things I have been contemplating for years and years and years now. I have started writing a book, actually, but I'm only just beginning. It's sort of the non-fiction book that I've always wanted to write about how I left my faith and how my worldview changed for the better and snowballed into this intense absorption of a lot of new concepts and ideas that are gaining mainstream momentum involving the marriage of both logic-based living (mind) and intuition-based (spirit) and how science is now embracing both. I am following news here and there on both fronts. I was drawn this year to writings of both Ayn Rand (logic/mind/individualism/masculine/technology)and Eckhart Tolle (consciouness/feeling/collective/feminine/energy) and if you would happen to be familiar with them both, you would see their philosophy in direct opposition- that you couldn't BE more opposite than these two. However, I don't see things that way. I see them as two great views that can be reconciled. Two sides of the same fantastic coin that is different to anything I've learned about to-date. I think this coming Age of Aquarious is bringing about the harmonious union of these perspectives and that, ironically, this new awakening would still fullfill prophesy of all the many Bible-believers. This is all so interesting to me, but so very alone to contemplate these things. Not many people are willing to discuss subjects like New Age philosophy or morality outside of religion, reiki, etc. I don't really know anyone else with any interest in discussing the implications of particle non-locality and the ether's possible realtionship to gravity, or why I'm considering a write-in for Ron Paul. Mars is sick and tired of hearing about these things. Shut up and throw me a bone, already!
(sigh) Kids today...

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I NEED, Wait...No...I WANT CHANGE

Sign found near bus stop (Belmont/Broadway).

I can't tell if this was supposed to be a political sign or was used in attempt to collect coinage from passers-by. Regardless, I am curious about the reason for the word change. I like to imagine that some drunk bum decided to try and capitalize on Obama's campaign slogan to get money for cigarettes and liquor, but half-way through writing the sign realized that he can't say he's like Obama and be dishonest about needing the money. So, he changed the sign to read want and underlined it twice for heavy emphasis, keeping integrity. Of course, later, he abandoned the sign, leaving it among other street garbage, because apparently the Obama-likeness ends where environmental-consciousness begins. :)

I took this photo while waiting for the bus on my way home from a birthday party on Thursday night. Since I missed the Palin/Biden debate that night (they insisted on watching the Cubs game instead at the bar), I was relying on other people to fill me in until I could watch it later ; people at the party were getting messages on their Blackberries from friends with debate play-by-play notes. All I got was one text message from my friend Marcia that read: OMG- she just said nu-q-lar.

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Bailout Bill Voted Down...For Now / America Shrugged

Don't worry, by next Friday, there will be another version of the same bill that passes. Still, I am encouraged that members of the House of Representatives didn't take it lying down. I feel like there is evidence that some Americans are still alive and kicking versus sleeping at the wheel. Freedom isn't just something fought for on the battlefield. It means paying attention. The Holocausts don't happen over night nor did the problems with our government and economy.

Make no mistake, stocks will continue to fall, banks will continue to fail and the economy will continue to decline. But, this will happen with or without a rescue initiative on the government's part. The real issue with this bill wasn't that dire action is not needed (something will need to be done in attempt to save the economy), but rather that this particular plan of action and the method in which it was being carried out was morally flawed. The fact that people noticed this is encouraging.

So, the days ahead are not going to be feel-good days. These are unprecedented events in history on a global level and no one has a fix-all answer. But there is a much bigger picture to consider about how to approach getting us back on the upswing and if this means taking more time to consider all ramifications at the risk of witnessing some more immediate failures, so be it.
It shouldn't be a newsflash to anyone on Wall Street or Main Street that risky actions can carry negative consequences.


The questions I keep hearing from commentators about this recent bailout situation are, "Where are all the leaders? Where are all the adults?" And it's true. There are none. It's no coincidence that I've been slowly digesting Atlas Shrugged this year (which I did finally finish, by the way). Reading an epic melodrama about all the magnificent ways both a government and parasitic society can implode both their economy and progress of humanity in a time such as this makes me appreciate Ayn Rand all the more. We thought she was just a philosopher, but a prophet, too? Interesting.

Where are all the leaders? The adults? The brilliant, talented, thinking men and women of our world? Not in government. Not in our corporations. Dare I say, not in our churches? (Okay, some of you working on this last one and I wish you the best with that effort.) But just as in Rand's yarn, I believe they are shacked up in Atlantis, no doubt, waiting for a day when it's safe to come out and rebuild in a world that appreciates and honors the value of true freedom man was designed to enjoy. An equal value-for-value system of ethics and trade and respect and honor.

If anyone happens to know the address, email me on the sly; I have packed my suitcase.
;)

p.s. I promise to put the politics aside for some upcoming blogs. I do have other stuff to blog about. I just haven't gotten around to it.

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What would an election year be without YouTube?

Some Fun You Tube Clips (for the Democrats)

Who is Sarah Palin?

Letterman Roasts McCain After Cancellation

Obama Confronts McCain on Iraq

Keith Oberman on McCain's Credibility

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"America does not have a debt problem. We have a political problem."- Catherine Austin Fitts

An economic rescue plan sounds great doesn't it? A quick fix to get us all green and liquid again.

Let's take a quick inventory.

Unelected government officials, in a matter of a few days, propose to spend about a 5.3 trillion dollars we don't have to save financial institutions on Wall Street (local and, indirectly, foreign government investors) that took risks over-lending to Americans who couldn't really afford the debt to begin with. They wanted this provision passed in short order in its entirety, no time for questions asked. The sell? If we don't do this immediately the economy will fail (fear-propaganda*). This from the same people who, months earlier, refused to admit there was anything beyond a minor, short-term recession going on.

*Yes, I think the economy is a disaster, but I don't think there is a real solution in this plan.

You are witnessing a massive cover-up attempt on organized crime that our government has been orchestrating for years with unprecedented boldness. History in the making, no doubt.

I am thrilled that members of Congress representing both political parties are actually standing up for what is wrong about this, although I don't know that they will have a significant impact.

Here is an insider data (note: lots of data- an overload to try and digest in one read) that I have been following for about a year now: former Assistant Secretary of Housing - Federal Housing Commissioner (1989-1990) Catherine Austin Fitts:
http://solari.com/archive/housing_bill/#PartI

For the past few years, Catherine has been warning people about government fraud and connections to large private financial companies. She has been advising Americans to take their money out of gi-normous banking institutions and put it into smaller, local banks and to also buy from our neighborhood producers- keeping our money within our own community. Easier said than done, I know - especially as we watch all the smaller banks get gobbled up by the bigger ones and buying local can be more expensive and (ironically) less-convenient. But I do agree that if a large number of Americans made the effort to do this, we'd be better off and I love that there is someone who has insider connections encouraging a positive solution to get us back on track. She writes...

"And maybe the smartest and most creative among us will be willing to invest the time and energy it takes to reinvent a model that incorporates what we like to think are traditional American values. These are the values that are enduring and make us proud to be Americans still. There is no hint of these values in the housing bill. There is, however, an abundance of them in the hearts and minds of the people. "

I agree and have been in the process of making the gradual (smaller/local) shift over the past year.

I often remind people who complain about the power of big corporations and the negative effects they have on local communities that they can always put their money where their mouth is. (And, often the topic is quickly dropped altogether.) While I think our country's status as a "democratic republic" is largely an illusion, I do believe that we have an opportunity to vote with our money 365 days a year. In fact, as notorious consumers, this is what Americans do best. We just need to be smarter about the the impact of where we invest our resources, myself included.

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Palin Pox, Spreading and Let's Kill the Abortion Issue Already

I get plenty of political emails to my inbox, but since the Republican convention, I have received more emails about Sarah Palin (mostly anti-Palin) than I have ANY OTHER POLITICAL CANDIDATE outside of G.W. Bush and she's only running as a Vice Presidential candidate. Love or hate this woman, she is the talk of the nation. It's almost as if McCain is off taking a vacation somewhere and Biden dropped off the face of the earth while Obama is making rounds explaining a comment about lipstick on swine. Palin, to me, is like the next Paris Hilton. If people didn't spend so much time talking about why she isn't worth talking about, she wouldn't be the next biggest celebrity and her brand of eye glasses wouldn't be selling like hotcakes. We've known her only a few weeks and already two biographies on her life are set to be published in early October. They will probably become best-sellers. And all the while Tina Fey couldn't have it any easier for SNL sketches.

The thing is, I'm tired of hearing about why Palin or Obama are bad candidates. It reminds me of Bush telling America that we need to support the Iraq war because otherwise we will all die at the hands of terrorists. The use of any type of fear-based propaganda is usually a sign of great weakness in the pro-argument. Instead of telling me why I shouldn't vote for someone, why not give me specific reasons to vote for your candidate of choice? Specific reasons they will change this country for the better. Got any? Something other than abortion rights, PLEASE. Pro-choicers will never convince any right-wing Republican that abortion isn't murder. This issue will always be apples versus oranges. Accuse pro-lifers of being anti-feminist and they will ask where is the feminism in killing the woman in the womb? But you still should force a woman to keep a baby she doesn't want? Ah, but newborn babies are still a hot commodity for parents seeking to adopt and most will pay for medical expenses. You see? These arguments will never change. My stance? I think a woman should have a right to choose to have an abortion if she wants one, but I also think other women should have a right not to have their tax dollars be used for it. So, I'm pro right-to-choice all the way around on that one. Just think, then anyone who is worried about women who can't afford abortions after rape and incest situations can personally open their wallets and send money to sponsor their procedures, the pro-lifers can gather to collectively pray to ask God for forgiveness of their "sins", and maybe by the next election, the general public can focus on some other political issue to base an election on.

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Democrats, Republicans, and Potheads

Most of my friends are Democrats, and I grew up in a Republican household (though my parents have since renounced any party affiliation) so I feel I have a fairly good balance of perspective on the political nuances of both political parties. I'm an independent who leans toward libertarianism. I voted for Ron Paul in the Republican primary, because if he actually made the ballot I would have real hope that there are enough revolutionaries in this country, people who want radical change for freedom of individuals, to someday fix this mess of a country. I think he was actually the most qualified of all candidates to address our country's dire economic crisis, but oh well...

I watched some of both the Democratic and Republican conventions recently and they were both very interesting. Here is my concensus: I think the Democrats could easily rename their party the I-Hate-Bush-And-The-Rich-People-That-Support-Him party and the Republicans could rename theirs Because-Obama-Is-Inexperienced-And-We-No-Longer-Associate-Ourselves-With-Bush party.

The decision of McCain choosing Palin as a running mate is an obvious attempt to win over disgruntled Hillary supporters that were slamming Obama hard in the primary. McCain is desparate for on-the-fencers because many Republicans think McCain is too liberal for their party. If you happened to catch the GOP convention, you would notice that almost every speech was about about how inexperienced Obama is and how people should vote for the right person instead of merely voting for their respective party. Hello? That's your case for McCain: that he's not Obama? Weak. Terribly weak. I respect that he was a POW, but all the more reason, in my opinion, not to have him on any committee dealing in foreign policies/relations. How can a person not be biased after an experience like that? In any case, it was incredibly obvious that they are damn scared of Obama having enough support to win. If McCain really had good solutions to the country's problems I would assume they would have been disclosed in convention speeches. The GOP mantra: Vote for McCain 'cause...cause he's all we've got! And now Palin is getting all the press. People are almost more taken with her than McCain and all she did to win them over was give a speech. She is well-poised as a speaker and comes across very strongly; I'll give her that. And Guiliani was ruthless. Just ruthless. He's no idiot; he knows how to spin it. But he made me nauseous at the link of Iraq War to the 9-11 attacks. The fucking propaganda continues. A little hot button of mine.

I like Obama. I have always been impressed by him. The sad thing is that he could get crushed in this election because he doesn't play as dirty as the Republicans (Hillary would have- she's about as dirty as they come- why I'm glad she didn't make the nomination). But, the only thing he can ride on is his reputation for being a calm, honest, intelligent senator and that he disagrees with bush politics. One good slam to his credibility and it's all shot to hell. I bet McCain supporters are working overtime on that. I know almost nothing about Biden, so I can't really comment on him. Their mantra is basically: Change. If you want it, we're your only hope. There's no real weighing of whether or not their ideas of change will actually work, but apparently this message has been working for them. They should send Bush a Thank You card if they make it to the White House.

Grace, my landlady, is a staunch Hillary supporter (she has a mad crush on Bill, too) and she is always badmouthing Obama for lack of experience (sour grapes on him winning the Democratic ticket) and now she's badmouthing Biden because"he's ugly." So,...there ya go. Clearly her political issues differ from mine.

I heard someone talking about an experience on the el where an Obama supporter was trying to convince a homeless man to register to vote so he could vote for Obama. The man refused, saying there wasn't any reason to vote in this country so he would never register. Then the Obama supporter told him that Obama was planning to decriminalize marijuana if elected. With a sudden change of heart, the homeless man jumped up, asked where he could register to vote and if he could perhaps get some buttons to wear to support Obama's campaign. Ah, America. Gotta love it. Forget Iraq and Iran and the declining value of the U.S. dollar, rising unemployment, unaffordable healthcare and the loss of our constitutional right to privacy. The real problem at hand is keeping our potheads out of jail. ;)

Actually, one of my favorite Obama quotes regarding the use of marijuana in his past:
"I inhaled frequently; that was the point."
I love it.

So, ultimately this presidential election is a popularity contest that will come down to who has the best marketing and in the end, whoever gets the nomination will have an awful lot of crap to clean up - more than 4 years worth. It's gonna be a long haul to get this country back on a good, prosperous track. Whoever it is, Democrat or Republican, I know this much: I wouldn't want to be in their shoes.

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Living the Dream, Dreaming the Dream

Once when I was at one of my many recent dentist appointments a man came in for a check-up and was seated on the other side of the partition from me so I couldn't see him. I heard the dentist greet him and ask how he was doing and what he’s been up to since his last visit and he answered, "Fantastic! Living the dream." At first I laughed at this. I heard the dentist laugh, too. I thought it was a fantastically sarcastic response: clever and unexpected. Ha! Living the dream. Who the hell ever replies “Living the dream?” Until I realized that he was being utterly sincere. He really sounded sincere. How can he say that? I wanted to challenge him. Something to the effect of, “Dude, you’re at the dentist; how good could it be?” Nobody can really say that, can they? Living the dream? And I decided at first that he must be a celebrity or filthy rich, or a motivational speaker or something. But really, how many celebrities could honestly answer as he did? And I’ve worked for a few multi-millionaires and they were among the most miserable people I’ve met on the face of the earth to-date. So, I thought about this all the way home (after receiving my new set of front teeth). I guess the only thing this guy really needed to be to answer, “Living the dream” and mean it was a person who is in sync with the way we should all be living our lives. Right? I wanted that. I mean, of course I have always wanted that – who doesn’t want that? - but I’ve wanted it somewhat passively and generally. So, being the neurotic, analytical person that I am, I started to dissect it. The following is a sample of my brainstorm.

Square one: In order for a person to live their dream, they must first…well...know their dream: be able to define it. So, what is my dream?
To be happy. Too general.
To make some amazing artistic contribution to society. Still too general.
To write a great stage play that is performed. Done it. Think bigger, more romantic, after all this is a “dream.”
To write a great script: stage or screen that gets performed and has lots of exposure and makes a great artistic contribution to society….Okay…and?
And, to find love. Real love. Not some I-love-you-out-of-guilt-and-obligation bullshit love. The big, sexy, hot, sweet, mutual, dependable kind. And?
To be free. Free to travel and think and work and live as I please. To be respected in my profession – whatever that is. More specific.
To be self- employed in a creative job that allows me tremendous freedom and to be respected in my profession. Still needs some work but okay for now.
To have the freedom to enjoy art of all kinds. To forever have a person I can go to for good conversation. For all my friends to be living their dreams and, what the hell, world peace.

It’s harder than you think – defining a dream. It’s almost as if, by definition, a dream is supposed to be the opposite of our reality, instead of an option for our reality, so we tend to not even bother indulging in the fantasy of it. I know I don’t do this enough because I like to be considered smart and practical and realistic and responsible.

Dreaming involves imagination. Imagination is something I used to have in abundance in childhood and today working on creative stuff gives me permission to use my imagination for the sake of creative productivity. But I didn't, until recently, consider that not everyone can even access their imagination. I was having dinner with a friend who has been teaching a creative writing program for high school students this summer. She explained to me that the ones who are the better writers are the one who have developed an inner vision and imagination. Not only can they write better, but they can comprehend and envision what they read better. But there are people, she tells me, that she has encountered over years and years of teaching high school and college students, who are actually handicapped when it comes to accessing their imagination and this keeps them from ever progressing in their writing skills and also keeps them from being able to experience great writing and generally progressing in life. they cannot retell a story they have read or heard because they can't see it. They just can't access what is not real and in front of them or something that is not a scene on television or in a movie. They are imagination-challenged.

So, I think about these imagination-impaired people and wonder how much this inhibits their life. Man, are these people missing out! This is so very sad to me. So, I don't want to take mine for granted or dismiss imagination as something just reserved for creative projects. Imagination is extremely important to life. I may not be able to say I'm living the dream right now, but I want to at least be able to say I am dreaming the dream. There is value in that alone.

So, what would it take for you to be able to answer that you are living the dream?
Or could you say this now? If you are not living it, are you even dreaming it?

And to that end, I have already started putting into action the self-employment dream. I have had it before, but have better direction on it now. So, I will keep you posted on my progress as I develop this and plan to escape my cubical work-existence.

Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...

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Four score and seven years ago...

It's been about 7 years since I've attempted to do professional singing gigs. In the last few months I have tried to resurrect the singing personae that has been mostly dormant all this time after having had to go through a collection agency to get payment on the last solo concert I did: a private party in the affluent suburb of Schaumburg, IL.

So, call it my 7 year itch, but in May, I auditioned for a jazz trio. Got the gig, over about 50 or so singers (so I am told), and have been learning music and rehearsing. It's me, a guitar player, and a bassist. The bassist is the leader and 'manager' of the trio. The idea for the gig is his own: a Julie London tribute band. Actually, I am one of three singers- one is sort of an understudy and the other is a groupie that just likes to show up to sing the music under the guise of just practicing for fun. I'm fairly certain she has designs on being a trio singer, but she's terrible and the other musicians wouldn't be too keen on that. There is also a second guitar player learning the music. So there are five of us total that could be switched into any trio combination (maintaining our respective instrumental/vocal position) that includes the bassist. Some earlier singers didn't like the idea of not being the front lady all the time and they bailed. I don't mind the fact that there are more singers. In fact, I prefer it, because I know this will keep me guilt-free if I have a conflict with a gig and the other musicians can still get a booking. But, as far as the singers go, right now I am the one who is most requested for rehearsals with the two guitar players, rehearsing about twice a week.

7 years ago, to sing for a gig, I only had to deal with a piano player: a gay, Greek collegiate named Costa. He was a fantastic musician, but, man, he was so sensitive that I felt like I was walking on eggshells during every rehearsal - trying not to say something that could possibly be misinterpreted as an ego-buster. It was so tedious emotionally just to run music with him. Afterwards I was exhausted. His friends would secretly refer to him as the guy who has PMS 24/7. But, Costa wasn't the first moody musician I'd ever met.

Growing up, I went to 2 different middle schools and had three different band directors over the course of my junior high education. If there was one thing you could count on, it was that they'd be so f*cking tempermental they could ruin your day with a single glance. If you were late coming in on a measure, they'd pop a blood vessel screaming. If you were passing a note to a friend while they were pontificating on the distinction between legato and allegro, they'd all but publically announce they planned to murder your firstborn child. I had a few choice exchanges with one of these, Mr. Rodgers, who in hindsight, actually was the most talented of the three. Truth is: I played the clarinet, not because I liked playing the clarinet, but because it got me out of classes like home economics-why I'm not sufficiently domesticated (this is kicking my ass now), but I digress... Mr. Rodgers insisted that I was a good enough musician to be 3rd chair out of 16 (for you non-band geeks: your chair number is your talent rank- 1st chair being the highest). I actually had a gal formally challenge me for my chair and even though I tried desperately to accomodate her request by playing the challenge piece wrecklessly in attempt to forfeit my seat to her (since I couldn't care less), Mr. Rodgers insisted that I remain in 3rd chair position just to be an ass. The girl really was a much better player and sight-reader than I was.

Ah, musicians...As the Celine Dion lyrics go...it's is all coming back to me now. Coming back to me now because the trio bassist is a control freak and I am afraid he will ruin his own masterpiece of an idea with his strange and defensive behavior. I recently had to be very firm with him and tell him that I prefer he not call me unless there is something I need to know about a rehearsal or the music. I felt I had to clear this up because he has been trying to get in touch with me in between rehearsals just to chat for while because "he was thinking of me." At 52, he's not exactly my type. Divorced twice and super lonely for people to talk to - I get that. Really, I do. Still, not what I auditioned for. And it kills me that he would take something that has been coming along so nicely and that I've become so invested in and make it weird. I told him I prefer he email me and that I like to keep the correspondence professional. He didn't like this. It's not the way he likes to work: not what he had in mind for the band "relationship". But, I had to be honest with him. I told him that I prefer he simply email me if he has a question or concern and call me only if it's something urgent concerning a rehearsal. So now the vibe is strange.

I had to rehearse with him (Michael) and and a guitarist (Jake) tonight. Things started out really great but ended on a not so great note. (Couldn't resist the cliche there...) Suddenly Michael got all pissy about a suggestion that he, himself, proposed for the music minutes earlier. Jake and I liked it. Then moments later, he changed his mind about it and starting going off about how he's tired of people telling him how to do things and a bunch of other crazy ranting about how he wants to have long breaks between each song when doing a gig - which I took serious issue with as it's not professional to fill time in this way simply because the songs are super short. The voicing of my opinion on this alone put me in the category of enemies who are banding together to encroach on his artistic vision or something to that effect.

I am worried about how he will be dealing with potential clients or agents that would book us for parties/restaurants (the type of gig this is: background music). He paced around his apartment huffing and puffing and sat down, folded his arms and stopped talking to us as if he regressed 50 years into his terrible twos. He has pouted about stuff before here and there and got over it, but this time was a bit over-the-top. Jake and I just walked out as soon as we wrapped up the music.

I come home and Michael has already emailed me that he wants me to call him. I won't. I may email him tomorrow, but I'm not playing into this weird game of his. Jake and I are totally on the same page and think we sound good and the trio has real potential. He worries, too, about Michael, but says he deals with that kinda stuff with band leaders a lot because he actually earns a living playing various other gigs and teaching music. Jake's cool. Both guitarists are cool, actually, and the other 'understudy' singer I have never heard or met, but I hear that she's coming along with the music.

So, I don't know how all this will shake out. I hope it will be fine. I will try to keep my thoughts on the positive side, though it's tough. When we sound good, we really do sound good and that's what keeps me going. It's been so long since I've done any singing publically outside of the Italian Birthday song. Should be interesting...

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What You Fear Is What You Get

Okay, from the Bad News Bear corner...
Yesterday we heard about someone in a neck cast, today it was stories of people struck by lightening during Tuesday night's storm - one of which was struck for the second time.

I'm telling you. There really is truth to the concept of attracting what you fear. It seems to be a theme of the week, too. Just yesterday there was a discussion among co-workers about the two gal who were struck in the head by a street lamp that was knocked down by an out-of-control Cat in the Hat balloon during the Macy's Day Parade in 1997. She was knocked into a coma for nearly a month. In trying to remember what the balloon character was, we googled and discovered that she's been the victim of a freak accident twice over. In 2006 the private plane of a New York Yankees pitcher crashed into her bedroom just before she arrived home and the place went up in flames.

Story here:
http://wcbstv.com/topstories/Kathleen.Caronna.Cory.2.238738.html

So, whadduya think? Coincidence? Makes me wonder what a person might think to attract negative circumstances. If you were the victim of a serious freak accident, wouldn't you fear that happening again?

Last week, on a date, I was reminded that I have been this person, too: a negative circumstances magnet- in my own way. Over many glasses of wine and and a tasty appetizer I relayed in casual conversation the story of my recent bike accident, the story of my lousy day job, the story of the drink driver that totaled my car, and the story of the stalker I had for nine months. In hindsight I am wondering why he wasn't running from the restaurant. But he did, after these stories, stop me to ask ,sarcastically, if I considered myself to be a lucky person. Then he said that no more stories of negative things that happened to me were allowed for the remiander of the evening. Oh, I kinda met my quota, didn't I? Yes. But, before the evening was out one question led to another experience and I asked if I could tell it only because it was funny in hindsight. He permitted it and did agree it was humorous. But, still. What a bummer I must be to talk to and I didn't even realize it!

And this week, I got an email from an ex-boyfriend of mine who just moved to Tennessee. He said he would call me soon to catch up and that he hoped I was not having any bad luck with bosses or landlords. This from the same guy who was always telling me I was a creep magnet for all the strange characters I attract to myself. This is unfortunately true. So, I am accepting responsibility for this, lately. All this time I have been making fun of the Bad News Bears and I, myself, have had my share of unusually unfortunate events of various kinds. But, at the same time, it didn't really phase me, because I always decided my experiences still made for good stories, after the fact. Am I unlucky? I'm not sure. What's unlucky about having a lot of good stories?

I think I am sometimes lucky. But, I am starting to make a conscious effort to think positively and attract positive experiences. I'll be sure to tell you how that works for me.

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I've been tagged to do the following...

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the 5th sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, acknowledge who tagged you.

The Divine Matrix, by Gregg Braden

We can't capture or photograph it. Contrary to what daylight saving would seem to imply, it's impossible to gather it in one place only to use it later in another. When we do attempt to describe the meaning of time in our lives, we're left using words that gauge it in a relative sense.


I'm Tagging:
The person reading this who has not already been tagged and keeps a blog.
If you fit the description...you're tagged.

I was tagged by Dawn D-R
www.mindlib.blogspot.com

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Call Me Snaggletooth

I have been riding my bike to work on Fridays when the weather is nice. Yesterday morning I rode about 3.5 miles with no problems and was a half a block from the office when I bit it - the sidewalk, that is...was wearing a helmet, but unfortunately not on my chin. There was no car involved. I misjudged the lip of a sidewalk ramp that had a puddle of water in front of it (leftover from the previous night’s thunderstorm). The ramp lip was taller than I thought and I shouldda taken it head-on instead of at an angle – the same reason why bike riders are always instructed to take railroad tracks on the perpendicular. I opted to jump to the sidewalk this way when I was suddenly blocked off by right turn traffic ahead, just picked the wrong place and angle to do it. The fall itself wasn't scary at all. What was horrifying was the sound of my teeth crunching like Doritos in my mouth and through my upper lip. I was so stunned and in my own world that I didn’t even look around to see who was walking around me and or even think to ask for assistance. Blood was everywhere, and I just kept thinking, my God, I must look like a total freak right now from the amount of blood I’m dripping. I put my hand to my mouth and spit out a piece of a tooth into my palm. I stood up, uprighted my bike (which remained completely in tact), and walked with it over to a nearby trash can. I leaned the bike against a black, utility box unit while I stood dripping blood into the trash can. I was wearing an exercise tank layered with a lightweight grey shirt. I had my change of work clothes on me in my pack.

My immediate concern was just getting myself presentable enough to walk into my office building without causing a scene. I already had blood on my grey shirt, and was just about ready to take it off to sop up the blood from my face when two very sweet women came over to me, asked me if I was okay and presented me offerings from their purse. One woman had an entire stack of paper napkins and another handed me her entire mini-Kleenex tissue pack. Both women looked at me, sympathetically, and somewhat apologetically, as if to say- I wish I could give you medical attention, but this is all I know to do for you right now. I accepted their offerings graciously, with much thanks and got myself as cleaned up as I could under the circumstances.

Then, I crossed the street with my bike, locked it on the bike rack and walked into the building. I started feeling super light-headed, stopped to rest at a chair and table in the lobby and sat with my head on the table for a bit, just breathing and taking in the coolness of the air conditioned environment, still holding the napkins to my mouth. I was at the rear entrance, so there were very few people around, which was nice. I have nearly fainted in public before a few times and every time I was so embarrassed by it. I hate to be a burden to people, especially strangers. So, I was actually more worried about losing consciousness in public than I was about losing consciousness. After a few moments I regained enough energy to make it to the lobby, up the escalator and to the 6th floor where I immediately ducked into the women’s washroom to assess the damage. I looked like the victim of an intense domestic abuse incident. My lip was already so swollen and cut I couldn’t tell how bad exactly, though I knew it was deep. I wondered if it would require stitches I was surprised that only one of my teeth had shattered from all the crunching I heard. It didn’t look as hideous as I expected. I was missing only a quarter of my left front tooth, now a wavy jagged edge and the entire front section of upper teeth was extremely sore. My chin and left arm were both bleeding and black from sidewalk grit and scrapes. I cleaned myself up a bit, then walked over to my friend Laura’s desk to get her opinion. I explained the ordeal and asked her if she thought I would need stitches. She insisted that she take me to an immediate care center because the lip wound was deep and was also concerned that I could have a concussion. It took me a while before I decided to go with her. I kept thinking I could get some work done and maybe get myself checked out later, but when I started feeling light-headed again, I took her up on the offer. Some gals at the office fashioned an ice pack from paper towels and ice in the kitchen to take with me and it helped control the swelling. My co-worker, Vicki, loaded my bike into her SUV parked outside to return to me later this weekend which was a fantastic help.

Laura and I took a cab to an immediate care center on Michigan Avenue. The staff there was very nice. They cleaned my up a bit more, dressed my arm wound and gave me a tetanus shot. I also had a chance to change into my better, non-blood stained work shirt. After pressing along my face in numerous places, the care center doctor suggested I see a radiologist for a chin scan for fear that I might have a hairline jaw fracture at minimum. They also wanted me to get a c.t. scan to rule out a possible concussion, but I talked them out of that, insisting that the impact was strictly to my chin and mouth and there’s be no reason for that. They called a nearby radiologist’s office, but their chin scan machine was out of commission, so I was instructed to go to the Northwestern ER. On the way out, I told Laura I could handle the ER trip on my own so she could go back to the office and get some work done. She told me she’d call me on my cell to check in with me and handed me two granola bars she’d grabbed that were available in the immediate care center. I’m so glad she thought to grab those because they came in handy later.

I’ve been to Northwestern ER once before when I had a kidney stone issue, so I knew exactly where to go and what the procedures were. I also knew I would be there a while and was bummed that I didn’t have a book with me- one of the many books I have sitting on my nightstand. I take them out of my backpack when I ride to work to lighten the pack load. I tried reading a magazine, but couldn't keep interest in any of the articles. I thought it would be good to try Reiki on myself to ease the pain and help the healing, but the ER environment is so frenetic that the meditative focus needed for that was just not accessible. Once checked in, I was in a room with several others awaiting tests and treatments. There was a man accompanied by his partner who had fallen through a temporary deck structure that was in place while construction of the deck was going on. It was an upper level deck. One foot fell completely through and the one that didn’t was strained so much from the pressure of trying to keep support that the foot broke in half, tearing ligaments. They were awaiting the results of a scan to see if he needed surgery. Another man, elderly and incredibly frail occupied the bed next to me. We were separated by a curtain. I think he was homeless man and may have just come in to get something to eat. A female security guard stood watching over him about four feet from the foot of his bed and he asked her if she could bring him food. She said she couldn’t give him any food until he’s had a blood test and a urine test and asked him if he’d had either yet. He replied no. I learned later that his name was Mr. Smith. I had wished I could share a granola bar with him, but thought it might be against doctors’ wishes per the guard’s instructions. I ended up being there for so long, waiting before and after my scan that I was glad to have the granola bars to eat with the back right side of my mouth. While I was there, several other people that I couldn’t see, but could hear, came into the room to harass the registrar because they hadn’t been admitted yet. I heard people wailing in pain, talking about the seriousness of their infections, screaming, calling the nurses bitches. I realized that the ER people handle an incredible amount of abuse on a daily basis. God bless 'em. I also felt guilty that I occupied a bed that someone else could have and hoped they would move quickly on getting me out so someone else could be admitted.

The thing about Northwestern Memorial Hospital is that about four out of every five male doctors rank high on the hot scale. I’m serious. I’m convinced they hold auditions. There are so many attractive doctors there that I sometimes felt like I was on a soap opera, except for being in actual pain. They offered me painkillers, but I had popped an Advil before I arrived and didn’t want to overdo it. I had two doctors, both easy on the eyes. My main doctor was glad to hear I’d already called my dentist and scheduled an early a.m. appointment for Saturday and said he would be applying a tooth coating to protect the broken one in the meantime. Every doc I talked to kept emphasizing that the dentist visit should happen as soon as possible because my tooth and perhaps teeth were very fragile after sustaining the trauma and all were confident that the dental work would be routine and get my teeth back to looking normal. I was glad I didn’t have to see many people with my broken smile before I would be getting it fixed. I had joked at the office earlier that people would believe me now when I tell them I’m from Kentucky. I had a total hillbilly grin going on, when I did smile- which wasn’t too often because it split my lip wound more. Just when I was thinking this, the doctor returned to my bedside with two interns: a woman and yet another attractive guy. “You’re kidding me?” I said “Is it this serious that you needed two more people?” I joked with him. They had come to view the tooth-sealing. The woman joked that she was brought in to hold me down while I screamed which made me laugh and hurt my lip more. The doctor said he brought them in to watch since it was a teaching hospital and hoped I didn’t mind. And thus, he proceeded to use me as a guinea pig for Sealing a Snaggletooth 101. My only issue with this was that I had to keep my mouth open for a long time through the slow explanations of how to count the teeth, the classifications of the three different types of tooth breaks and the actual brushing on of some sort of plaster sealant. It wouldn’t have been so bad had it been in a dentist office, equipped with suction tools to keep the saliva under control. But it wasn’t. It was me, a woman intern, a hot doctor and hot male intern staring down at me with a hillbilly grill, drooling on myself. But, hey, I suppose I did my part for the interns' medical education.

While I was waiting for the results of my chin scan, I noticed that I had also bruised my left leg pretty bad through my jeans and that there is a very small, black piece of gravel stuck deep into my palm that will invitably work it’s way back to the surface in time. So minor I didn’t want to waste the doctors' time with it. Also, while I was waiting, several doctors took turns trying to get my neighbor, Mr. Smith, to have a coherent conversation with them. He had fallen asleep and they needed to talk to him about his symptoms and what he was in for. I could hear them going to great lengths trying to rouse him with little success. The same man I had heard asking for food a half hour earlier, was now speaking only jibberish. When they finally got him to respond, the round of questions went like this:
Doc: “Mister Smith, are you hearing voices?”
Mr. Smith: “ehhhh…yeahhhhh.”
Doc: “Mister Smith, Are you having thoughts about wanting to hurt yourself?”
Mr. Smith: “Yes.”
Doc: “Are you having thoughts about wanting to hurt other people?”
Here there was a long pause. I listened attentively.
Please answer, him, Mister Smith. I thought. I’m interested to know considering I’m the nearest person to you when the doctor leaves, there is only a curtain between us and I like to think I’ve met my trauma quota for the day.
Mr. Smith answered with jibberish.

Needless to say, I was thrilled to get my scan results- no chin fractures- and skip outta the trauma room with a prescription of antibiotics and painkillers. Since then, my friends Laura and Marcia called me several times to check up on me and make sure I wasn't unconscious somewhere from a concussion. They were so great to care so much and look after me.

It wasn't until I was at the pharmacy that I noticed something about my hospital wristband that struck me as funny. My former primary care doctor was a Northwestern physician and years ago someone mistyped on my medical profile that I was a male instead of female. I asked them to correct this years ago, but there it was again on my wrist i.d. that I was a 31 year old male. Apparently this gender mistake is still haunting me. I wonder if it ever royally screws up their statistics that I have an extensive history of ovarian cysts.

Today I was at the dentist and it turns out that more than one of my teeth was compromised with stress fractures, both vertical and horizontal. So, I got a temporary cap-like unit that looks astonishingly real securing three of my front teeth and in the coming week I will be going with two veneers on the two front teeth because bonding would not be strong enough for day-to-day wear and tear given the stress fractures. So, I will see how much my insurance will cover of that. Hopefully a good amount of it. I promise I didn’t eat the sidewalk yesterday with intent to get an all-expenses paid smile makeover. This weekend I am resting and eating rice and ice cream. I will probably refrain from biking to work for a while.

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The Peanut Gallery and The Bad News Bears

Work isn't worthwhile without something to keep you laughing. I sit across from my friend Karen and we recently started referring to ourselves as The Peanut Gallery because we have an opinion on almost everything and we call things as we see it. My excuse is that I'm a Sagittarious and Karen's is that she's a native New Yorker. For this reason, various co-workers are always coming by asking our opinions on this or that: anything from ideas on color choices for bridesmaid dresses, suggestions on what to eat for lunch, how to how to handle certain delicate work relationships, good places to take their out-of-town guests, etc. Another thing that Karen and I share is a work history that goes back about 6 years. She and I worked for those crazy investment bankers together and we often rehash stories of those crazy days, especially since we work in the same building as those guys and see them in passing now and then.

Aside from The Peanut Gallery, we've named the far corner of the room The Bad News Bears (or The BNB) because there is an woman who works within our earshot and seems to be connected to major life crisis on a daily basis. Every day there is something tragic going on that she's grumbling about aloud. So-and-so is sick and in the hospital, so-and-so was in a car accident, mom fell down the stairs and hurt her hip, a friend got a serious infection after cataract surgery, so- and-so's brother-in-law was found murdered, so-and-so was diagnosed with cancer, she's limping today 'cause she broke her toe, etc. We've decided that she must be the caretaker of several older relatives and the entire family is having an exceptionally rough go of life all the time. The problem is that it has become comical to us that, without fail, there is a different tragic incident to discuss in detail every day. Woody Allen's formula of Tragedy + Time = Comedy should be amended to read: 236 Tragedies/365 Days= Comedy. (236 being the number of working days in a year minus vacation and holiday). I never imagined I'd be laughing at people's misfortunes like this, but myself and several others in the vicinity can't keep from snickering at the mention of the day's tragedy from The BNB. It's terrible! Today she has been on the phone giving a dramatic account of the gory details involving someone's bleeding throat tumor and I am trying so hard not to laugh that I am biting my tongue and typing with tears streaming down my face. I can't even look at Karen, but I hear her stifling a chuckle. I swear, I'm usually a pretty sensitive person when it comes to people's hardships, but the writer in me cannot resist imagining the SNL sketch one could script from the comic gold that could be mined from this corner vortex of dire misfortune. I keep joking about coming in super early one day to burn sage in The BNB corner of the building to chase away the evil spirits.

I am reminded to appreciate that I am healthy and people I love are doing well.

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Reiki, the Corpus plays, and Riget

I’m not really one to make New Years Resolutions, but as the year changed over to 2008, I made a small promise to myself that this year I would study about something unrelated to writing or theatre or dance. I decided to learn about energy medicine. And since energy medicine is something you can really only learn by experiencing, I wasn’t going to stop at just reading about it. I needed to decide exactly how I was going to experience it. At first, I debated about going to a Reiki Master for a healing session. But, instead, I opted to dive in with a level 1 certification course. After completing a 14-hour course over a weekend in April, I am now certified in Usui Reiki 1, a form of Japanese energy healing. (Step 1 of 3 to becoming a Reiki Master)

I couldn't help but wonder if any supposed results from so-called energy healing are created by a placebo effect on the basis of suggestion (a.k.a. a complete load of malarkey). What I discovered is that something does occur in energy healing. It may not be healing as you and I know it, but I learned that energy healing is supposed to healand strengthen the spirit body, which is in direct relation to the physical body. Many times there is a definate physical response such as heat or vibration sensations, which I experienced both when two people did a reiki session on myself and also when I did a reiki session on another reiki student. It was really amazing. A 'healing' session could also involve helping a dying person's spirit crossover into the afterlife peacefully when their time has come, versus conjuring a miraculous recovery back into life as they knew it.

My course consisted of learning the history of Usui Reiki (several versions), some meditation techniques, learning all about the main seven chakras and several minor ones, the importance of practicing gratitude in all aspects of life and eliminating stress, fear, and worry. Also, there is an etiquette to reiki - you must never attempt to give reiki to someone without their permission. However positive, it's still frowned upon; you'd be essentially violating them spiritually. And there are ways to do more harm than good in some cases, which is very interesting in a kind of 'be careful what you wish for' vein. In fact, in reiki healing you are encouraged not to focus on a person's health issue at all or any other specifics, if you can help it. The energy has its own 'intelligence' per se - much like the Christian 'holy spirit'. And distance healing is totally possible, in the same way that people see amazing effects when being prayed for. It's the same concept, but a more clear one, I think, when it comes to the nature of how someone should be prayed for to see the best results. There is a strong emphasis on performing self-healing all the time in order to be able to assist in the healing of others. Just like everything else, however, I keep putting it off. I've actually had moments where I'm thinking I could do a reiki session on myself to give me an energy boost right now or... I could eat something chocolate. And lo, I opted for a Snickers bar. For shame, I know. It's crazy. You can also reiki non-living things and get results, supposedly (like fixing your car or kitchen appliances, etc). Diet is also important, of course - lots of veggies (not so many Snickers), healthy stuff as you can imagine, though meat is not forbidden. Also, I received my level I attunement from a reiki master, which is a kind of spiritual ritual of initiation into the reiki 'club' per se.

I've been learning a lot about spirit and the nature of spirit from stories originating with various sources. Some of the interesting stuff discussed in my reiki course was how some people's spirits do not fully inhabit their physical body. I had heard this proposed as an explaination for autism, but never thought about it much as far as the everyday person goes. Rick, my instructor, was giving expamples of people he's encountered whose spirit might actually be very condensed and hiding on one side of their body from years of fear and insecurity. Often this person is very shy and depressed and may even physically hold themselves inward. Reiki for this person might just be about helping their spirit body inhabit more of their physical body. Others, of course, have full-bodied spirits (not talkin' whiskey here) and large auras and astral bodies. I've had two strangers and one person who was a family acquaintance, women who considered themselves to be psychic or spiritual seers of some sort, who have told me I have a very large aura. I always assumed this is a good thing, complimentary. (Far better, I assume, for someone to remark how big your aura is than to say the same of your ass, otherwise why would they feel compelled to tell you, right?) These were people who actually 'see' auras, which I'm not able to do. Maybe someday I will be able to. I can feel energy fields from people, sometimes very intensely, but it's a physical 'feeling' sensation versus a visual and not for every person I encounter.

So anyhow, I'm all into reiki and energy and reading about the divine matrix and remote viewing and lots of crazy, kooky, weird shit that I find completely facinating. I have even been able to try reiki on Mars, who started to experience what appeared to be arthritic pain in his front legs for several weeks. First the right leg for a few weeks, then the left. Each time I was able to assist in alleviating his pain enough to get him back and walking on his legs. It hasn't returned since, but it still might. I can't help but be skeptical, though. I wondered if he just injured the right leg and after if started feeling better he simply started up on the left to see if he could get just as much attention and food rewards for being such a sport. He's been known to be manipulative that way.

I've enjoyed tying energy healing study to mind-body work in pilates and how the mind process of body mapping affects us physically. In fact, I had a rather passionate discussion Wednesday night over dinner about how cool the concept of body-mapping is, but I think it was also due to the two margaritas I had. (We are finally seeing some margarita-drinking weather around here!)

Creatively, I have put aside the full-length play I was working on. I tried to get through it without interruption, but alas, another project came calling- one more definitive for me. I am completing the second act to the two-act collection of Corpus plays. THEY THE PEOPLE is Act One and DEAD MAN WORKING will be Act Two when I finish it, both taking place at the ficticious Corpus Communications company. I'm considering calling them CORPUS DUO (a play on the latin Corpus Deo). The plays could be done together or separate.

I also feel compelled to mention that I bought both Season One and Two of Lars von Trier's The Kingdom (Riget) and was completely riveted. This may mean I am a very twisted person, but I am willing to accept that. I am so bummed that there was never a Season 3! (I know the actor who played Helmer died before Season 3 could be made, but this can't be the only reason I am left hanging.) I have never seen anything like it. It's an absurdly, horrific, dark comedy series with fantastic elements of religion and philosophy. But didn't we already know I'm a LVT fan?

-ciao

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Taking Inventory of the Junk Drawer

In my earlier post, I used an image of a broken heart to describe something I was experiencing. While this was partly to symbolize that there was a recent end to a romantic relationship, I feel it is more accurate to say that the broken heart was a symbol, not of myself having lost that particular relationship or really about my feelings for that particular gentleman (who is still a lovely person in my eyes) but rather to describe a general sense of brokenness that I have identified with in the area of my life titled romantic relationships. If this were embodied in a container, a drawer- let’s say- labeled Jen’s Past Relationships- it might look like the junk drawer that everyone has in their kitchen. It’s messy. It’s not really well-defined. It has a little of this a little of that. There’s not really any one theme. It has a sound of containing broken things when you open it- all clanging together. This is a box of items that came in handy at the time they were needed and for some reason I decided I needed to hold on to them: rubber-bands, pieces of hardware, an appliance manual, an expired coupon, a take-out menu, a few twist-ties, a match book, a chip clip, a key ring, a yogurt lid I never mailed in (sorry, breast cancer patients) , etc. You probably have something like this in your own kitchen or office: the all-purpose, miscellaneous drawer. Well, I recently decided to take inventory of my relationship drawer and remember what purpose each had at the time prior to landing in the drawer. I made a list of all of the guys I’ve had fairly substantial relationships with and what I was able to take away from that relationship.

My newest concept that I’ve been playing around with is that we have a natural attraction to people that embody the very side of us that we hide from the world because they give us permission to be something we secretly want to be. Some people may even refer to this as our shadow-self. But in taking inventory, I noticed that each guy I dated possessed the exact traits that I wished I had I myself, but did not: they were strong in areas I was deficient in. Some say opposites attract, but the more I learn about polarity the more I realize we are really attracted to the other side of our same coin. For example: It was noted by a dear friend that I had a pattern of dating guys that the rest of the world would consider to be over-confident or even cocky. At the time, I didn’t see this as valid. I saw these individuals as confident and considered their confidence to be a pleasant, rare find. But really, I was counter-balancing my own extreme insecurities. Outside of these relationships, I would feel tremendous guilt if I exhibited any sign of personal pride in anything. In fact, I was genuinely very embarrassed to have anyone compliment me in public or bring attention to me because I identified that as inappropriate and sinfully prideful. Yet, when I was dating a guy who was totally comfortable with public praise- even to the point of seeking it out- it was as if I was given permission to indulge in this myself via association. I don’t know if that makes as much sense to you as it does me. But, from those relationships, I actually became more balanced. A little bit of their extreme rubbed off on me. Another example of this is from my first (and longest) serious relationship with a guy from high school to early college. During the course of the three years we dated, I went from being a complete type-A personality to being much more relaxed and balanced because he was so completely laid-back that I would sometimes check his pulse to make sure he was still with the living. Almost EVERYTHING rolled right off him (and this one didn’t even smoke pot- habitually, anyway). Some days I thought I could kill him for what I thought was complete apathy or even laziness. I stressed out about his life more than I did my own. Still, any way you slice it, by the end of our relationship I was a changed person. You can’t be seriously involved with a person who embodies this without learning something very important: that people who don’t plan for anything in life still actually get by just fine (even though you sometimes wish they didn’t just to validate your own obsessive behavior). In fact, they get by with a lost less worry and stress than those of us who do plan and obsess and organize. Of course, people like me help them out a lot along the way, but, there’s still no getting around the lesson. I learned that this relaxed approach can be about choosing to be peaceful and accepting of a situation and that this is actually a more beneficial approach on many levels. I am so much more tolerable to work with now when compared to my former obsessive, type-A self. Co-workers have recently spoken of my ‘gift’ for maintaining such a calm demeanor all the time, even in the most intense situations. They have no idea from whence I came, except maybe when I worry aloud about something I have no business worrying about. Thanks, Glen. These are just a couple examples...

So, I made my inventory list of the items in the relationship drawer and realized that, although this is a filled with items that never made glass showcase status, it is nonetheless a drawer of some very useful things I have collected over the years. Plenty of stuff that’s not really junk at all, just things I have needed along the way. And for this, I am grateful.

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