Hello Hello

Sorry to interrupt your posts, but I just wanted to butt in and say hello to my two old friends who I haven't spoken to in....well, too long. I understand that there are lots of congratulations to go around...Ruth, on your marriage and wonderful adventure in France and Myriam on your engagement and new baby on the way. I am always so happy to hear about you guys and the joyful lives that you are creating. I hope your holidays have been the best. I am wishing you a merry everything and much much love and abundance in 2009. Love - Patty

I'm doing that thing....

where I kinda isolate myself...you know...
and I get all weird...
and really there's no good reason....
really there's only reason to celebrate...
but like a crab or a turtle or something...I'm hiding under a hard shell...
and really no one here knows I do that except for Mati....but he can only do so much ...he loves me so well already...
it happens when i get overwhelmed..by anything - good or bad....and I can't see my way through....to anything...
and its usually you...
who know when its time to come and get me and explain the bigger ways of the world to me...
and its usually you..who know how to find me....even if I pinch a little..you know I'm harmless and you understand my abstract definitions of why...and
and no one here knows that about me....
and and.....
that's all...
I feel funny today.

I got this note from my "sister"
I feel funny.
She's seems nice...

Where are you two?? I wanna touch your belly, Myriam and look at your hair, Linda.


Hello Dear Ruth,

I am your sister
and have always been,
Your memories of me I am sure
are quite slim...

The occasions our paths crossed
were very few,
But I could never, never
stop thinking of you.

And now when I lay down to sleep tonight
My heart will be filled with great delight

Because

I seen my sister by chance..
Living and loving in the streets of France.

Always
Mona Lynn, Olivas, AKA Ramona Bejarano AKA Mony Velasquez

I'm all stifled and can't think or speak & shit.
Just get here already.
Less than a month feels like more than 5 years.
Hurry.
Hurry.
Hurry.
Just Hurry.
But be careful....but hurry.
get here. now.

I can't stop staring at the baby/ring picture ...its my favorite. ever.
Hurry now.
Hurry up.

and a happy new year...!

MERRY Christmas!

Hi to my two dear friends. I haven't yet connected with Myriam, but there's still time in the day. And you, Ruth, we have missed each other today. I'm so sad about that - not hearing your voice and yesterday it was so short.I was in the kitchen cooking a big pot of red and brown curry lentils with cauliflower, peas, onions, garlic, and carrots. It's the only thing Max will eat lately, except for oatmeal and of course yummy fruit, nut, tofu shakes. I hope you both are having a very very merry merry day. I miss you both and CAN NOT WAIT until we three are together for an enchanted visit in less than a month!! due to the orchestrating and generosity of you, myriam. thank you thank you thank you for helping me be there with you two. i love you both. love love love.

One month from today...

we will be sitting down to supper together.

oh and by the way Ruthie Mae Conchitta, you'll be needing 2 extra plates.

merry christmas

merry merry

good morning. it's 4:15 am here, salem, ma...and max has been awake since 2:30. he must be excited about our trip this morning. we're leaving for texas in a few hours. i love you two and my life wouldn't be as merry without you.

love.

Woke up this morning, Needing to Clarify - Love you both very much.

Okay...so back to the ADDH or ADHADh ...attention deficit ideas.
I just need to make sure you both understand what I mean when I say a lack discipline can feel like attention deficit disorder.

The human brain and entire organism can only take in so much and yet we have inundated it with uncountable choices. Supermarket shopping, entertainment, travel, you tube movies, sports and television, computers, cars, housing, health, exercise, forming your identity etc....the choices and questions around the choices we have are astonishing and endless.

And this is good a thing. I believe that to be true. This is an extraordinary time to be alive. I feel grateful every single day to wake and have so many choices. But I think we must be aware of how this environment plays on our spirits and bodies. Because that too, is profound, and if we are unaware of how modern living is affecting our bodies and spirits, then we are only prisoners of a world we've created without knowing none the better.

So, with regards to being disciplined, which I spoke to the two of you about yesterday and this applies to me too. I often find myself throwing strange temper tantrums around not having enough time to do all the things I want to do here and how fast time is going and how I've not written letters the way I wanted to and how yes, we've joined the boathouse and I love it so much but we we're not going enough and how there are so many restaurants to try and only so many feasting weekends...and ..on and on...and these choices which are not grave but on the contrary, they are the kinds of fun choices I've never really allowed myself to have before in the name of having to make money and feel like I'm doing something productive....

The tantrum eventually transforms into that feeling of having "attention deficit". But the truth is...even as much as Mati and I have tried to simplify our days, there is that tendency, even only working a small amount of time to feel overwhelmed.
It's like a big gourmet buffet nightmare and you've just started at the beginning of the line and everything is delicious but you look down to the end of the table and your very favorite thing is down at the end...and will there be enough by the time you get there? Do you pass up all the other delicious things on your way? Should you just get out of the line and run down there and butt in front of somebody? Anxiety...in the buffet line...this is supposed to be fun, godammit!

What I know to be true is this:
After you've fulfilled your responsibilities at the end of a day and with what little time you have to choose from the countless joyful hobbies you'd like to participate in..writing, piano playing, running, watching a good film, cooking, grooming...whatever...there's very little time and sometimes you're not well rested...or possibly well exercised...or well fed and so it's hard.

So,without labeling a beautiful amazing body and spirit with attention deficit..how about looking at the bigger picture first..that's what I'm saying.

Discipline is what it takes. With the most fun things, you must exercise the discipline of giving that thing your attention...your full attention.

If you pick one thing you know you'd really love to do. Let's say the piano, for instance. You love the piano and you're so good. It takes discipline. and that's very simple because you can't distract yourself from the simplicity of "I didn't do it today, because I wasn't disciplined." It can be easier to justify not playing the piano by thinking about ways to combat the attention deficit.

Sit down and play.
and the next day at the same time, sit down and play again. and if it's only for 5 seconds, you sat at the bench.
and keep doing it until suddenly you will realize you've built yourself a practice of playing ...something that is joyful and nourishes you.

This is the point I'm trying to make:
When you give yourself over to something you love..and you practice at disciplining yourself to participate regularly in the thing...the piano, the writing, the traveling...whatever it is...YOU MUST SACRIFICE OTHER CHOICES.

That's the hard part of modern living. Everyone wants everything. It seems we should have it. It's there. The choices are there for us. But, if we're not carefully aware, we choose nothing and we get nothing, but maybe a few extra episodes of a good television program images in our brain files. And that's not bad, either. Television could be a choice rather than a default to paralysis because it's hard to do the other things.

But make no mistake, that in our world environment, it will take extreme discipline to fight for the time we love and it will take discipline to practice the art of participating in things that we love to do...that are fun...because we save those things for last...after work, after feeding everyone, after bills, after...after after...

Remember that we have had more technological advances in the last ten years than we have had in the previous 100 years. Doesn't it make sense that our organism, the human body will need some time to evolve and catch up?...Until then we must be gentle and practice.

Steady as she goes..

Hi lovely friends. I have no good reasons why i haven't posted in so long. no good reason at all. i've had much going on in my life, but so have you both, too. i've said this before but i wish i could just tape my thoughts and they would be dictated into a journal. i want to write them. and i like keeping a journal. but i just don't. i seriously think i have an attention span disorder. i've coped well all these years but it's there.

Well here i am - months and months after writing a post called "Fluidity" which spoke of Dave and I possibly moving to CT and the time has come. At least I should say, the time has come if we can figure out a way out of this condo. It won't be pretty but it's necessary.

Even though I have no idea how we can extricate ourselves from the hundreds of papers we signed saying we would pay the whole entire amount back, so help me God... I can feel that we are in flux. It can be felt and sensed when inside our first little abode, what we would affectionately call our cube, cement block or cave, depending on the day.

For months, even longer, I've been really wanting to simplify. Get down to the basics. Live minimally. Make room for things that matter instead of getting bogged down by clutter. I have physically started to do so. We have sold our dining room table, the little brown couch, gave away the brown chair a long time ago, got rid of the old red couch and bought one good quality comfortable couch. we're selling anything that we don't really like or use anymore. and anytime i feel myself get attached to something I try to remind myself it's just an object. it served me well but now it's time to move on.

i also splurged in some essential oils. as in $186 worth. mind you, this was before we found out that dave's job was ending. ruth - did you know that? dave will no longer be employed as of dec 20. 2nd lay off in 9 months. so you see, all things are pointing toward simplifying. i've been wanting to anyway and here now is a SECOND pretty big life changing event occurring in our lives. as if the universe is saying to us...you are on the right track, now act on it. do it. what are you waiting for. so the oils...they represent taking another small step into turning to things a bit more pure and healing all the while. (of course i've yet to take advantage of these, but they're there, in my closet. patiently waiting for me.)

we meet with a lawyer tuesday and then with our financial analyst thursday. then i get my hair cut thur night (i just threw that fact in- no big importance, really). then once we figure out our options are and all the consequences, we will make a decision. i could be here for a another 6 mo or only through January. the best is yet to come, right.

28,704 words in with just over 8 days to go : )

Now that they were in their apartment, there was no need to go to grammas. There was no crisis to get her there. In fact, it was really good for her father. He could come and go as he pleased since he had handed over all the responsibility to Jainnie. Everything he needed was in place. It worked for him. Jainnie started to feel trapped, though. She needed those crises to get her free. As each day went by, she felt more suffocated. She plotted to runaway. One day, she convinced her friend, Lisa, to join her in leaving their respective unhappy lives. Lisa was her only friend from school. They bonded since Lisa was willing to risk being late for school in order to wait for the candy shop to open. They would buy cinnamon oil and toothpicks and sell home-made cinnamon sticks to their fellow classmates for cheap. They were in business together. They both lived with their respective single parent and hated it. Lisa confided in Jainnie about her life at home. Jainnie didn’t disclose as much information about her life but made it clear they were in the same boat. Jainnie and her father lived across the street from the Little Sisters of the Poor. Jainnie and Lisa made a plan to runaway from their horrible lives. Certainly they knew they could make money. They had already proven that. And they had both survived in their own private hells up to this point. They knew they could make it work. On a Sunday afternoon, they left. Jainnie’s dad was passed out on the couch with the Lucille Ball show blaring in the background. He wouldn’t come around for a long time but Jainnie left through her bedroom window just to make sure he wouldn’t wake amidst her escape. Lisa met Jainnie at the corner outside her and her mother’s apartment. It took Jainnie an hour to walk to Lisa’s neighborhood. She could taste her freedom with every block she walked away from twenty-ninth street place.
They had planned only so far, though, in that they agreed they could survive and they would do it together. Past their declared self-sufficiency, however, they didn’t have a solid plan. Jainnie had more practical experience in the world and in actually being outdoors at night. She had been prepared and she wasn’t frightened. As is got darker, Lisa began to panic. She was also getting hungry. Jainnie was serious about this running away business but she soon realized her partner was in over her head. They hadn’t gotten very far past Lisa’s apartment, when Lisa realized that she didn’t really have it so bad at home with her mom but Jainnie was confident and convinced her to continue. Lisa’s nerve faded, though, with the sunlight. Jainnie understood her friend and tried to comfort her. Jainnie led them to the chapel in the Little Sister’s of the Poor, where it was quiet and Jainnie could think. Jainnie thought Lisa would feel safer there too. As they sat behind one of the pews, they wondered if the sisters would let them live there. They could explain their situations and certainly they would be welcomed to stay. The Little Sisters of the Poor was a place where the elderly were cared for, fed, and looked after because they had nobody to do it for them any longer. Jainnie and Lisa couldn’t see, with the exception of their being nine and ten years old, why their situation was any different.

BIG ASS PAELLA

*please note that the paella pan was 4 feet wide, it was one of the greatest cooking experiences of my life

LOCO for COCO

ok seriously, coconut milk is the new chicken broth. Yes, that's right ladies, you heard it hear first. Pinto beans, add a little coconut milk, spinach, top it off with coconut milk, eggplant, yucca, sweet potato, plantain all of it goes with coconut milk.

You could pour it all over your ass and it would taste good. I'm telling you it is no joke. And I'm talking about REAL coconut milk, as in crack open a coconut, grate, put it in a sieve and pour warm water over it and then TA DA, it's like buttah baby.

Recipes to come.

Love you both so much.

xo

Miriam Makeba Dies (my namesake)

"CULTIVATE HAPPINESS IN YOUR OWN LIFE"

Nov. 5, 2008

Dear Brother Obama,

You have no idea, really, of how profound this moment is for us. Us being the black people of the Southern United States. You think you know, because you are thoughtful, and you have studied our history. But seeing you deliver the torch so many others before you carried, year after year, decade after decade, century after century, only to be struck down before igniting the flame of justice and of law, is almost more than the heart can bear. And yet, this observation is not intended to burden you, for you are of a different time, and, indeed, because of all the relay runners before you, North America is a different place. It is really only to say: Well done. We knew, through all the generations, that you were with us, in us, the best of the spirit of Africa and of the Americas. Knowing this, that you would actually appear, someday, was part of our strength. Seeing you take your rightful place, based solely on your wisdom, stamina and character, is a balm for the weary warriors of hope, previously only sung about.

I would advise you to remember that you did not create the disaster that the world is experiencing, and you alone are not responsible for bringing the world back to balance. A primary responsibility that you do have, however, is to cultivate happiness in your own life. To make a schedule that permits sufficient time of rest and play with your gorgeous wife and lovely daughters. And so on. One gathers that your family is large. We are used to seeing men in the White House soon become juiceless and as white-haired as the building; we notice their wives and children looking strained and stressed. They soon have smiles so lacking in joy that they remind us of scissors. This is no way to lead. Nor does your family deserve this fate. One way of thinking about all this is: It is so bad now that there is no excuse not to relax. From your happy, relaxed state, you can model real success, which is all that so many people in the world really want. They may buy endless cars and houses and furs and gobble up all the attention and space they can manage, or barely manage, but this is because it is not yet clear to them that success is truly an inside job. That it is within the reach of almost everyone.

I would further advise you not to take on other people's enemies. Most damage that others do to us is out of fear, humiliation and pain. Those feelings occur in all of us, not just in those of us who profess a certain religious or racial devotion. We must learn actually not to have enemies, but only confused adversaries who are ourselves in disguise. It is understood by all that you are commander in chief of the United States and are sworn to protect our beloved country; this we understand, completely. However, as my mother used to say, quoting a Bible with which I often fought, "hate the sin, but love the sinner." There must be no more crushing of whole communities, no more torture, no more dehumanizing as a means of ruling a people's spirit. This has already happened to people of color, poor people, women, children. We see where this leads, where it has led.

A good model of how to "work with the enemy" internally is presented by the Dalai Lama, in his endless caretaking of his soul as he confronts the Chinese government that invaded Tibet. Because, finally, it is the soul that must be preserved, if one is to remain a credible leader. All else might be lost; but when the soul dies, the connection to earth, to peoples, to animals, to rivers, to mountain ranges, purple and majestic, also dies. And your smile, with which we watch you do gracious battle with unjust characterizations, distortions and lies, is that expression of healthy self-worth, spirit and soul, that, kept happy and free and relaxed, can find an answering smile in all of us, lighting our way, and brightening the world.

We are the ones we have been waiting for.

In Peace and Joy,
Alice Walker

Yes We Can.

I love you my friends.
Here are our super hero costumes from Halloween.
I was reluctuctant and resistant to dress up and then I thought of the two of you.
And I did.
Because the fun I feel in my heart has always been fired by the two of you.
I love love love you.

The answer is not in the why...

hhhmmm this morning after reading your post lindalou, i thought to write you immediately of course the answer to all of the questions you posted. my revelation was, perhaps we think to much about the why-meaning because we spend our energy wondering why we aren't doing this or that, it takes the energy away from just doing "it". i think this idea is a very clever game our squatters play on us. for me, i find myself literally thinking for HOURS about the way i eat, what i eat, how i eat, why i eat, what's wrong with me and my eating, will i ever eat better, the list is endless, same tape over and over and over again. then i spend endless hours trying to understand why? why do i do this, why do i think this way, why can't i, why can they? it really sucks. for me i am learning that i have given so much of my life over to the squatters. i recognize it because as i gain more clarity, the older stories and messages come to my mind more often, i mean i'm going back to college and high school thinking. finally i'm thinking what the fuck? am i seriously here again? the only thing i am recognizing that can stop that voice is action and it really doesn't have to be big action. so for just now i ate a peanut butter cookie, as soon as i started to eat it i started getting a headache in my brain from the jumping up and down that the squatters were doing in my head celebrating the victory of me eating the "wrong" thing. then it came to me like a tidal wave, the goddamn whys-they start, one after the other to the tune of "oh when the saints come marching in", but they aren't saints, they are assholes, screaming, rejoicing so happy gathering at their favorite watering hole in my head, to watch as the rally continues, for of course the next action they demand is to see my beautiful head face down in the public restroom at work (which is so humiliating since some people we know won't even defecate in public, meaning they won't put their ass on a seat that my head feels comfortable perched over-)yes they chant and scream (PURGE, PURGE, PURGE the cookie, we want peanuts, big chunks of peanuts, PURGE, PURGE, PURGE!!! like a stadium full of red sox fans, they all section by section stand up and do the wave all celebrating the fact that i can't get my shit together around food. well, shit it's true, i have my challenges, but purging is disgusting, i mean just disgusting, nothing can compare to the feeling of your eyes rolling to the back of your head watching as your insides are cast forth with great violence. then you have the lovely pleasure of being sure to wipe any and all lingering strings of saliva from your mouth or clothing, like a dog, like a dog i tell you.

anyhow, the whole point of this very visual post is to serve as a distraction to keep me from having gone to the bathroom (which i did not and that was my small action)and the other to understand and share- that the answer is not in the "why" we don't take photos, or avoid certain foods. the answer is in the doing. so when you got home after not taking photos, remember you are allowed to pick up your camera whenever YOU want, and if i had been there i would say, "well pick it up now and take photos from here" and every time you do THAT ACTION is the answer. THAT IS the why- you take pictures because it feels good and asking why you didn't or why you did just does not. you are a precious girl and just as much as you and ruthie hold me close and tell me that i am good and that treating myself badly is not, applies the same to you. pick the camera up, just go ahead, take the picture, inside or out, take them from your window, take them in the bathroom, just take them-it's yours, it's what belongs to you and it really doesn't matter why.

love
myriam

hallo -ween

it's october and as you might remember, i live in the halloween capitol of the planet. it was a surprisingly gorgeous fall day today and i spent the majority of it inside. cleaning. yuk. it needed to be done. and i feel much better now that my external life is a little less cluttered. so i take max out for his 2nd walk and the streets are just packed. jammed with adults, children, punk teenagers (and i don't mean that in a bad way), babies, dogs, tons of stands filled with delicious smelling fair type food that gave me a belly ache just thinking about eating it, kiddie rides...you name it. some people, plenty of people were even dressed up in their costumes.

i was enjoying people watching with max, my little observant and contemplative buddy. but i couldn't help but start to think about having my camera with me. why didn't i. why wouldn't i. so so many awesome shots i could've taken to keep as a cool pictorial of my time in salem.

i'm not sure what i'm trying to say. except that this weekend in particular so many times i've wished you two could actually hear my solitary conversation that went on in my head. it's not that i wouldn't share the info with you it's just that i can't get it out fast enough. my mind has been racing a mile a minute lately. i just would love it if you you guys could hear it as it's going so that we can get into a conversation about it. it's not all bad, either. my point is this weekend in particular, was another one of those times when i feeeeel the absence of my good friends.

i convince myself that i'm really just a homebody type of person at heart and i don't mind at all that i don't do much outside of my dave, max and work. and i think that is a true statement. but then i step outside like i did today, at 4:30 in the afternoon and i feel that little bit of me that does enjoy being more social. and i think of what must be an invisible wall of resistance. how that must be there because why else would i keep myself from doing the very things i swear i enjoy and need and want. like photog, running in this beautiful weather, doing yoga, connecting with and spending time near creative people. i don't know why. it's the million dollar question.

mine

WHAT IS MINE TO GIVE THIS WORLD????

i'm just gonna sit here until it comes to me

Shut Up, That's a Good Damn Salad

Hello my loves,
This salad is dedicated to the both of you and I meant to send this out before the Sox were eliminated so please excuse.
The salad nonetheless, and in my opinion, goes down in history and has been named according to Mati as:

The Beantown Come Back Walk Off Elimination Salad
Ingredients:
Mache - don't chop this one..keep the leaves whole

Arugula - chop this a bit to distribute its bite throughout the salad...

Clementines (quartered) - as many as you like

Pomegranate seeds of one or two - this takes some time but well worth it and if you sit and listen to some kick ass music (if you'd like a recommendation - you could go with Pink Martini loungie type music --- that'll put you in the mood for this salad ....or maybe like some vintage Van Morrison...that's good too)...while seeding and drinking wine - it will taste even better.

Cucumber slices - as many as you like - the more the better for me

Avocados - again, no measurements, bitches, just cut em up and throw em in...until you decide you've had enough : )!!

Lightly toast some raw almonds - these are, as you know, a fantastic source of fat and make the salad very satisfying so don't scrimp...

Dressing:
Balsalmic vinegar
Chunky bitch ass stone ground dijon mustard - nice an' spicy like the two of you on couple of vodka tonics - downright edgey...
Garlic granules or fresh pressed if you choose to blow your loved ones out of the bed tonight....
tiny diced red onions..the smaller the better...
A bit of soy sauce or liquid bragg's
and stir it up...
Drizzle over the top of your salad...not too much though cuz the dressing is strong and the fruits are delicate
so go easy

Alright lovely lovely lovely wench like friends of mine.
I miss you and want to punch your kidneys right now.
That's cuz i'm sitting in this fanfuckingtastic cafe' drinking red wine and now I'm on to a beer and wishing you were here with me right now...and there's so much to tell but .....its ten minutes til closing and I just must finish my beer : )

love, Ruth

i love beets!

i love you two. i keep your words and voices with me all throughout the day. and for that i am grateful.

i viewed this on another blog and thought to share it

LoPiccolo Throw-Back

Dear Linda,

We must face our own ugliness. We often must become painfully aware of the unworkability of a pattern before we are willing to give it up. It often seems, in fact , that our lives get worse rather than better when we begin to work deeply on ourselves. Life doesn't actually get worse; it's just that we feel our own transgressions more because we are no longer anesthetized by unconsciouness.

(from A Course in Miracles)

I mean I'm just sayin...

I love technology because I can do this...

An Ode to Coffee for Ruby Anne Conchita Maria Consuela Babbette Amelie

In Praise of Joe
by Marge Piercy, The Crooked Inheritance

I love you hot
I love you iced and in a pinch
I will even consume you tepid.

Dark brown as wet bark of an apple tree,
dark as the waters flowing out of a spooky swamp
rich with tannin and smelling of thick life—

but you have your own scent that even
rising as steam kicks my brain into gear.
drink you rancid out of vending machines,

I drink you at coffee bars for $6 a hit,
I drink you dribbling down my chin from a thermos
in cars, in stadiums, on the moonwashed beach.

Mornings you go off in my mouth like an electric
siren, radiating to my fingertips and toes.
You rattle my spine and buzz in my brain.

Whether latte, cappuccino, black or Greek
you keep me cooking, you keep me on line.
Without you, I would never get out of bed

but spend my life pressing the snooze
button. I would creep through wan days
in the form of a large shiny slug.

You waken in me the gift of speech when I
am dumb as a rock buried in damp earth.
It is you who make me human every dawn.
All my books are written with your ink.

For you...

Eat To Live...

hello, my name is myriam and i'm addicted to sugar
there i said it
okay seriously though,
i've been reading about toxic hunger and
shit
suddenly i'm like the addict coming out of a serious
methanphetamine high, begging my family and friends
to please just give me one more chance,
please, i know i can stop
it's not the suger=sweets per se
it's more like the chips,
cracker-ass crackers, frozen yogurt,
alcohol, the carbs
and, and it's not only sugar
it's eating
i'm addicted to eating,
when you read about listening to when your body is hungry
i have no idea in hell when i'm hungry because at any given moment
i've got a pig's assfoot in my mouth
sucking on every morsel of
fat and grizzle
wow, making the changes is
a commitment
one well worth the effort i know
it's amazing how mixed up
people are about food
since i have decided to
pursue a career in helping
people make educated choices about
food, i figure, it's time i dive in
it's a good excercise
because i realize that the fear and discomfort
i feel
will be the same my clients will have
can i be more compassionate toward myself?
the same way i would be
with a client
i am trying to write more about
my resentment and anger and envy
and all the juicy stuff surrounding food
interestingly enough, i am a bit
pissy that i am dictating what's best
for me
since i usually look outside of myself
for those assurances
especially today when SEESEE
through a fit because we/i chose not to have any
ice cream cake that was actually,
ice cream cake covered in brownies,
chocolate syrup, whipped cream and chocolate chip cookies

lord help us...

choice

I am more accustomed to living unconsciously and living in the present is very difficult for me.

I spend the minutes of my day in one space or the other but mostly I am spending many of these minutes unconscious.

I must make a conscious present choice to be presently conscious.

What is wrong that will not allow me to make this choice?

This is the time to bring it inside, it's the part of me that I have yet to develop.

Can I move back to making some choices that are simply a little bit better? What can I do to be a little bit better today?

I only have to put out a little effort to move JOY forward.

It's not about why I cannot, the choice is about HOW I can do a tiny bit better.

Every moment is an opportunity to choose to be conscious or unconscious.

I am lazy- at building new muscles
I am undisciplined-at building new choices

How much more terrified or anxious can I be? I live with it every day anyway...

therapy-10/6/08

I have a dream

I try not to go backwards too much.
I try to stay very close to this moment like I've been learning to do.
I stay close to this moment for protection and comfort.
This moment is the only place I can find shelter and answers.
I know this because sometimes in the mornings after waking, and I'm not so much in the present but really longing for the past.
I recognize how small I am on this planet without the nearness of those I love most.
How the strongest and most confident I have ever felt in my world is when I have shared my life
in close proximity with my friends: Mryiam, See See, Linda and Emily.
I have this dream.
That We would continue on this satisfying discovery of each of our lives.
So new and fresh and interesting with Max and Dave and with Kerry's new path - the hair is fantastic..
I dream that we are close enough to each other to share in a more intimate way - our lives.
I dream that Myriam or I can pick up Max from school if Linda is not available.
I dream that we won't have to buy a plane ticket to be in the room to hold Myriam ---- on the table - when she's bears a child : )
I dream that we can get away on a Friday night for dinner - just the girls...
and
yeah.
I wonder how it would feel to have the present moment to live in with my most favorite people on the planet in walking proximity for coffee and conversation and walks and to hug me and tell me the world is going to heal and even if it doesn't, we'll still be together.
Max is wonderful and cute.
Kerry's hair is short and wow - how is he taking it?
I miss you both so much and wish you were here with me.
In real life. real time.
yeah, so other than that things are cool here.
: )


Straw Bale Green Housing Example
SIZE: 480 square feet, external - 312 square feet, internal
ESTIMATED COST: under $10,000 including utilities, if you...

1 - are willing if not eager to live simply
2 - do most of the work yourself
3 - use recycled materials whenever possible (and do lots of scrounging)
4 - twist a few friend's arms to help you once in awhile (free pizza works everytime)
5 - price shop around for the best deals on all materials, especially the expensive items like solar panels, composting toilet, and metal roofing - prices vary a great deal
6 - stick to the simple design features below - fancier roofs or a concrete foundation, for example, really add to the cost...
7 - can build your starter straw bale without having to permit it (more on this later)

Little Swimmer

he loves the bath and the big pool was no different. big 'ol belly hanging out of his cute swim trunks and of course he found time to stare at the cute lifeguard. as for me, i'm not sure why my stance is as if i'm bracing us from a big tidal wave.



here he is out for a walk with dave all bundled up. it's been pleasantly cool lately. lovely new england fall weather. i love it. and it looks as if max does too!

The End of an Era

Wisdom- pablo coehlo

A scene that I witnessed in 1997: Hoping to impress his master, a student of the occult whom I know read some manuals on magic and decided to buy the materials mentioned in the texts. With considerable difficulty he managed to find a certain type of incense, some talismans, a wooden structure with sacred characters written in an established order. When we were having breakfast together with his master, the latter commented:

“Do you believe that by rolling computer wires around your neck you will acquire the efficiency of the machine? Do you believe that by buying hats and sophisticate clothes you will also acquire the good taste and sophistication of those who made them? Objects can be your allies, but they do not contain any type of wisdom. First practice devotion and discipline, and everything else will come to you later.”

This quote really hit home for em right now. I am practicing awareness of choice. CHoosing the good day, choosing the negative, choosing the good words, choosing mindfulness...

more to come

Feast Day

This day, this wonderful day was a gift to myself. On Sunday, we hosted a small gathering of some of Kerry P.s friends and family. When I woke up in the morning I was delighted as I remembered that I DID NOT HAVE TO COOK A GADDAMN THING. That's right, mother sister hired a caterer, the sweet Marilu who speaks not a word of English except the word "beans". At three o'clock she walked over to my house and indicated that everything was ready for pick-up. GOD LORD, I danced the dance of joy!!!

SO on Feast Day I ate-

a HOT, HOT cob of corn covered in lime and chilies and cheese and some kind of cream ass lube sauce
CARNITAS- 4 LARGE pans of carnitas (PORK, PORK and PORK)
Mexican Rice
Salsa Verde
Beans with hot dogs AND bacon -hello arteries!
pico de gallo
guacamole and yes HOME MADE GODDAMN CORN TORTILLAS FROM SCRATCH

What???
Have I died ? no wait because then my lovely sister and her family came over with an OREO COOKIE ICE CREAM CAKE that LOOKED LIKE A GODDAMN OREO COOKIE again ALL of it homemade from scratch.

needless to say, I have yet to recover, phyiscally or emotionally.

This Man

This man made LOVE to me last night. He laid me down and held me close and told me to relax and he proceeded to look at me, encourage me, enjoy me and see me. Something has always felt strange ith me about sex, I'm not sure exactly how to explain it but I recognize that I am disconnected to my body. There are very, very few times that I can recount that I have been intimate with my love and not have had a sip of soemthing, even if it's just a tiny shot of something to "calm" me. Calm me- calm me from what, a man I have chosen to share my life with, a man who has cleaned my poop, a man who has sat with me as I cried in such despair, it bought tears to his eyes. I understand that this is more about me than about him, this fear, this nervousness, this shyness but Lord give me a shot of Tequila and it's on, well, I guess I should say I'm on. I don't want to be on, I want to be here, I want to be connected, I want to feel powerful, I want to feel loved, accepted, free, brave, excited. He made love to me not in the physical act but in the discussion, the way he gently asked me what we could do together to make more comfortable. I know it will take time but it's a wonderful start. I feel so very loved.

meetchamidway

the title is so appropriate right now with us all spread out across 2 continents. i love love love reading about your daily french goings-on. beachiesgonefrench. a perfect description.

i am here in front of my computer in salem, ma about to put it in high gear for my work day. dave just took max for a walk before dropping him off at the Y, where he never sleeps. we spend every day that he's not there helping him catch up on his precious sleep. and i spend lots of time being creative with food so that max learns to love green veges and lentils and all things good for his cells that are working in overdrive every second, trying desperately to keep up with his desire to learn and move and do.

i try to take lessons from max. joy - that's what you see in kids, right mj? that's what inspired you to create those beautiful t's? i'm trying to take the joy that max inspires me to feel each time i look at him and keep it alive inside, so that i feel it fully myself and so that joy exudes from me. it's a worthwhile exercise. food for the soul.

I'm in!!

not sure how or why but i just kept trying all possible combos and voila! so yeah, emily. emmm. well.. that is exactly how i was feeling the other day(s). arms crossed. feet stamped. not wanting to cooperate with anything.

i think i've flowed into a new space in the last few days. it feels better to be here. although 'there' is necessary too.

it's a beeeautiful gorgeous crisp and cool fall day outside. sun shining. breezy. 60's. i love this weather. it's energizing?

so as you can see, emily has left the room and right now i'm known as mamamamama to max and he's been in the crib for 1 hr. - time to whisk him away to daycare. sniff sniff. wish i could spend all day connecting with you two and enjoying him.

later my friends. i'll be on later.

i got a call and an email from...

this sweet friend of ours named linda lou. and for some reason her tone reminded me of this little emily, arms crossed, stomping her feet and expressing in her sweetest voice her displeasure.

wow, i thought to myself, motherhood has added some serious spice to this lovely lou!

she made statements like " i DON'T want to get emails from ruthie for everyone, i want her to just write to you and me!" it was wonderful listening to our friend express and make demands-it appears that fiona and see see have a new friend, her name is emily and she lives in salem

bring it on sister, bring it on...

SEEING ME

when people love you they,
don't take no for an answer
send you gifts though you haven't spoken in 3 years
call you even though you've been estranged for 2 months
make you orea cookie ice cream cake
decorate your front lawn with pictures drawn in crayon
tell stories of your meeting
smile so big when they see you
write you beatiful love notes though they don't like writing
tell you how good you are
hold you in their palms
see through to the very best part of you
make you look beautiful in photos
demand you stay
look you up online after 11 years to connect
give you money unconditionally
trust that you will not be angry
send you beautiful loving poems
are sad when you are sad

when people love you they see you, they really, really see you.

ramblings from the american girl in france

okay, seriously, i feel so strange.
in a good way, though.
i think.
i cried yesterday and to say the truth, i am surprised
i haven't cried more.
i'm neglecting any capital letters to indicate to you
that i feel small like the letters. no caps.
its not small in the worst way.
and i know this is a blessing for me to not have any control
none whatsoever.
i think.
i don't even quite know where to start.
i try to document a few notes a day so as not to forget.
and each day we take photos.
i am so thankful to have finally invested in a digital camera
because at the end of each day, i go back and look at what has
happened.
we walk each day from the little city/village
i don't know what the hell it is but it is quaint and beautiful
and we descend 500 wooden stairs down the country side into Rouen
to look for an apartment, open a bank account, investigate cell phones
i say "we" but really i am like a small child holding the hand of an adult (who is mati) while he negotiates the conversations
he understands 60% of what they say.
i nod.
i understand 1 out of every 2000 words.
i hope for the best.
i walk around saying to myself, "i resist nothing"
and go with the flow.
and i recognize how regularly in my life i've flexed my will
through conversation
i guess i might be babbling now about how little i understand
and i'm sorry
it just feels so good to be writing in my own language
so free
natural, knowing those reading will understand me.
as soon as we get an apartment,
which as it turns out, is a very difficult task
for americans.
when the owners rent to someone and something goes wrong,
say perhaps, the renter can't pay or is a disgusting pigish wreck or something,
i guess it is nearly impossible to get them out.
they can squat for as long as they wish
there is no real beuracracy to evict them
so, the owners are very suspicious.
you must make 3x the amount of the rent and show documentation
and maybe even have someone to guarantee or vouch for you in case you can't pay
and even they will sign papers too.
also the apartments for rent are few and far between
yesterday we had our first appointment to look at a flat/apartment
(by the way, its not like at home, where you look around for a period of time - here, if you find something reasonable, you take it right away or it will be gone-kinda weird - so you may have 10 appointments and your dream flat could be the 10th but if you look at the first one and its acceptable, you take it) whoa, dude.
we made so many phone calls and finally an appointment.
we went and scoped out the neighborhood....it seemed very loud on the street and we thought it may have been a real shithole.
but then yesterday, we arrived and a nice french woman greeted us, took us inside and i became more and more happy as we went into the entry way...painted a lovely yellow, big garden, lots of old beautiful concrete and mossy looking corners, up the stairs, into the perfect little one bedroom flat...
i immediately began planning our life as mati spoke to the woman
i was sure it was ours.
then as i re-entered the conversation - listening to mati's tone and the woman's tone change, i could tell things began taking a turn for the rainy.
i felt a lump in my throat and realized i had taken myself too far into the future.
we didn't make enough money and had to have more guarantees.
so the city chewed us up a little and a good cry was necessary.
we've walked a considerable amount of miles over the last few days.
and i suppose i might be a little lonely inside my body
i've not heard one ounce of english since i've been here
i do love dinner time at our host's home
i can't wait to post the photos
i made dinner last night - it was indescribably delicious - not because i am that wonderful of a cook - but because the vegetables from the markets are ridiculously sweet and flavorful
tomato soup with a little goat cheese
red potatoes boiled then baked to perfect crunchiness in olive and little salt and pepper
with a big ass salad.
simple but rather delicious and they loved it
the first day we brought delicious champagne and they offered us 2 extra days to stay
i cooked last night and now they are helping us find lodging for the weekend with friends so we don't have to pay.
it seems a little american love goes a long way.
they didn't have a good experience with the last americans they hosted and they think americans don't cook well
so they say they haven't eaten so well when americans have cooked and they are pleasantly surprised and grateful.
i better go...but there is so much to tell....i hope i won't bore you with all the details.
i miss you so so very much
i hope your birthdays are wonderful
as soon i have a roof over my head to call my own, i'll send care packages...
well, once i figure out le post.
oh one last thing
i got so bent out of shape by not having any control,
i went to buy a pack of cigarettes and forgot the lighter
so i was negotiating the transaction on my own
i say to the cashier "sil vous plait, un petite bic"
you know, "please, can i have a small bic"
she gave me a funny look and the man standing behind her
says, "biC" over prounouncing the C
later that night, as i was telling mati about my experience,
i realized, she must have thought i said, "sil vous plait, un petite bit"
"please, can i have a small dick"

what's up with....

the nose picking frenchmen
hilariously shameless french nose picking men
on trains
on buses
in restaurants.

dear loved friends.
we're here and looking for an apartment
it is extraordinary
will post more very soon
people are unspeakably irreverantly attractive
despite nose picking tendencies.

love you.

learning

When angels talk

Nobody is courageous all the time. The unknown is a constant challenge, and being afraid is part of the journey.

What to do? Talk to yourself. Talk alone. Talk to yourself even if others think you have gone crazy. As we talk, an inner force gives us the security to overcome the obstacles that need to be surmounted. We learn lessons from the defeats that we are bound to suffer. And we prepare ourselves for the many victories that will be part of our life.

And just between you and me, those who have this habit (and I’m one of them) know that they never talk alone: the guardian angel is there, listening and helping us to reflect. What follows are some stories about angels.

open flame

this photo was taken just before my hair caught on fire...
how will i make it without either of you here?

I am learning

of course

so last week i have this wonderful discussion with a trusted friend about empathy and allowing and accepting and getting the f*#k out of my own way. then on my way home i stop and visit with the clarkster (tracey clark) lucky me and whatever she doesn't tell me, her daughters teach me about being present and loving and slowing down and that i am okay and such... i leave her house and i drive the pacific coast highway (hereafter PCH)towards my house. as i'm driving i remember that a few weeks ago my massage therapist told me about these amazing apricots called, black velvet apricots and that a store on PCH sold them. i switch three lanes and pull into the parking lot (food obsessed). as i step out of my car and towards the market (it is 8:30 pm) a young teenage girl asks me if i have any money because she and her mom and brother are trying to get a room for the night. now, i am from the school of thought that reminds me i have no business asking or
> judging if someone needs money, if they are asking, they need it, no matter what they end up spending it on. so i tell her that i will give her some money once i return from the store. of course, while in the store, i can't think of anything else, remembering a time in my life when my family struggled and my mom would not ask for help and we slept in the cold...so when i leave the store and go back to hand them my $5 bill i ask what their plans are and how they will manage. the mother shares that they are collecting enough money to stay at the local motel 6 which is $60. i, recognizing that i have no credit cards or any more cash think okay, what can i do? as a coincidence which of course there is no such thing , my man is having dinner with a few college friends literally minutes away. so i call him and say, "baby, do you think i could meet you to borrow $60 dollars", not even asking why he replies, " sure, where are you?" "down the street i'll meet
> you in five minutes" i say. as i'm leaving i walk over to the mother and say, "i will be right back with $60 dollars". as i turn to leave i stop and turn around and extend my hand and say, "my name is myriam, what is your name?" and she replies "joy, my name is joy"
>
of course it is...
>
> Accept the good baby, accept the good.

Words from a New Daughter - in - Law

I AM NOT A PACK ANIMAL

to be continued...

Purgatory...

My memory of lessons about purgatory are from Catholic School lessons. Learning about this "place" this place where one was sent when you weren't quite fit for Heaven, but you didn't warrant being sent to hell. I think it's where suicide folks go or perhaps reformed prisoners. I am living in purgatory. Through my work in therapy, I am making progress. I have no idea how to measure it except to say that I'm still here, alive on this planet. Sometimes the moments of despair leave me feeling trapped, trapped in purgatory, limbo, not quite grounded or at peace but more in a state of darkness or frustration or even hatred for myself. I see this thin veil of grey film over my eyes and though I can see joy or relief on the other side, I can't get past the grey. What the f*@k? It's discouraging and frustrating and yet, I am on autopilot. I think of the Diving Bell and the Butterfly, the book written by the former editor of Vogue, who found himself living in a state of complete paralysis after a stroke. The only control he had over any of his features was one eyelid. He could hear everything people said and see everything they did but he could not speak...
C'mon let me out, it's too dark in here...

Lyrics- You and I Both Jason Mraz

Was it you who spoke the words that things would happen but not to me
Oh things are gonna happen naturally
Oh taking your advice I'm looking on the bright side
And balancing the whole thing
But often times those words get tangled up in lines
And the bright lights turn to night
Until the dawn it brings
Another day to sing about the magic that was you and me

Cause you and I both loved
What you and I spoke of
And others just read of
Others only read of the love, the love that I love.

See I'm all about them words
Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards
More words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive

You and I, you and I
Not so little you and I anymore
And with this silence brings a moral story
More importantly evolving is the glory of a boy

Cause you and I both loved
What you and I spoke of
And others just dream of
And if you could see me now
Well I'm almost finally out of
I'm finally out of
Finally deedeedeedee
Well I'm almost finally, finally
Well I'm free, oh, I'm free

And it's okay if you have go away
Oh just remember the telephone works both ways
And if I never ever hear them ring
If nothing else I'll think the bells inside
Have finally found you someone else and that's okay
Cause I'll remember everything you sang

Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of
and others just read of and if you could see now
well I'm almost finally out of.
I'm finally out of, finally, deedeeededede
well I'm almost finally, finally, finally out of words.

love love love...
so much love.










...many more photos to come.

Airplane

I love this photo for so many reasons. I love the way she is looking at me and smiling. Her eyes say "Tantie, I love you and I trust you and I know you will always hold me up." They also say, "you are the greatest, the best, the funniest, and even if I fall, it's still okay because you tried to teach me how to fly". It's how it is with you friends. I love you both so much. I still can think back to how difficult I was in trying to understand things and work my way into my life here in California. How far we have come?!?!? We each have learned to fly but I am most grateful that we continue and are committed to holding one another up.

Love you

"Thank you, Bootie"

Yes, there is gonna be poop talk here. The kind of poop talk that is challenging even to me - me, who has become a regular poop connoisseur.
I read this in a Mary Oliver poem yesterday.

..Look, I want to love this world as though it's the last chance I'm ever going to get to be alive, and know it...

So yeah, I think this kind of living lately has taken a toll on my digestive tract.
Let's see if I can give you a quick recap - well, it might not be so quick, but I miss you so bear with me. Please.

Banquets. I'm not used to them. I get into everything too much. I get all emotional and involved in profiling every student, taking in every single outfit, conversation, and intently listening to the speakers' speech to see if they are still enjoying their work. I could probably be a little less intense at these things.

One of my favorite poems, called "An Ode to Hey Suess" about my crush on Jesus as a child performed at Cal State was truly awesome to see but the show is cited as "32 undergrads squirting adrenaline on the walls". and it literally was. Do those things NEED to be 3 hours? Provoking that much energy for such a prolonged period of time?? Can that be healthy?
This event, as it turns, initiated my own adrenaline levels to rise and and my gastric, gallbladder and pancreatic juices joined the party too.

Not only are my two most profoundly sweet friends celebrating my marriage with me, but I found the perfect party dress at Loehmans. I made an appointment to have my hair done all pretty. I met with a lovely woman who will put a perfect embellishment on my dress. My friends are coming to town to celebrate with me on a warm June day and this is beyond my hopes and so very lovely too. Its lovely, says me. gurgly rumblygurgle goo, say my intestinal walls.

I got in touch with a couple, Hans and Vivian, whom I haven't spoken to in years and I miss them. We're playing phone tag.
They would like to get together. I can't wait. I'm a little excited and nervous too.

It turns out I don't have a criminal record and there is no warrant out for my arrest in Long Beach. - At this time.

I'm conducting oral exams with the students, who vary from "Extreme dumbass making a stellar comeback instigating my weeping" to "Excuse me, did you KNOW there was an exam on this stuff today?" - all of which makes me as nervous as it does them.

I'm thinner than I used to be. I feel comfortable in my skin. I can pull my knees up to my chest and sit the way I like to sit. Carrying less weight feels good on my bad knee too. So that's good. But it makes me kinda nervous too.

We're trying to figure when we have the time to go and tie up the knot, get married, be Mr. and Mrs. Gervase? I watched the movie Waitress one afternoon, which was nice, except the part where she says about her abusive husband, "He changed once we got married". Yeah, that worked out for me that day in the way of relaxation.

Mati's brother and girlfriend are coming into town the day we finish finals. I love them. But I haven't done laundry in six weeks or cleaned the house or catch up with friends or just sit in the cottage and accept the idea that we're not coming back here at the end of our stay in France.

Our other friend Quan is coming to town this Thursday. He likes group dinners. We're going because we adore him. But I'm not fond of group dinners right now. Because I think my digestive tract woes began at a group dinner when I went for the cheese tortellini that didn't actually have cheese in the sauce. I think it was one of those fancy engineered white sauces.

With all this change and transition, I thought I was adjusting nicely. My body reveals otherwise. It has its own way of dealing with the movement in my world. It just keeps makin' poop like a woman who gets nervous and bakes to calm down. My body just kept making the poop and tellin' me to get rid of it.

The stools loose and weird, I tried not to go all paranoid like I usually do, attributing this intestinal episode to some strange disease that only a brilliant infectious diagnostician could solve. I decided to let it go and try to relax and take care of myself.

I put my work on hold and tried to sleep as much as possible. I ate my salads and fruits and immediately had to do the "2".
I slept some more because I was tired of pooping, which was good, but the minute I would wake, I'd have to go you know where. And my body ached too.
So I slept some more and it wasn't helping and so I'd go for a walk and that would help for a little but when I would lay down, feeling lethargic I couldn't get comfortable. I took a hot bath and that was okay and so when I couldn't think of anything else, I resorted to the Niquil and finally - goodnight moon.
The next morning, I was mortified when I had to leave my tai chi class in order to go to restroom to do you know what. Its a small group. In a small place. and the restroom is near the place where we quietly practice this gorgeous art of presence mixed with movement. And this is when the panic set in.
This kind of thing has never happened before. Something is really wrong. Me, there, in the bathroom examining my stool, seeing what's in it, how does float, is it smelly, greasy, are there creatures in it.....what the HELL??
"What if I feel like this when I'm spending time with Linda and Myriam? What if I feel like this when I get married?? What if something is really really wrong??? What if ????"

Once I got home, I got to researching. I found this: Graphic? yes, but please read on!!

What Does an Ideal Bowel Movement Look Like?

An ideal bowel movement is medium brown, the color of plain cardboard. It leaves the body easily with no straining or discomfort. It should have the consistency of toothpaste, and be approximately 4 to 8 inches long. Stool should enter the water smoothly and slowly fall once it reaches the water. There should be little gas or odor.

ABNORMAL STOOLS. Gross? Yes. But very very informative. So PLEASE, for the love of God, read on!!
Soft, foul-smelling stool that floats, sticks to the side of the bowl, or is difficult to flush away may mean there is increased fat in the stools, called steatorrhea. Stool is sometimes also pale.

Mucus in Stool. Whitish mucus in stool may indicate there is inflammation in the intestines. Mucus in stool can occur with either constipation or diarrhea.

Green Stool. The liver constantly makes bile, a bright green fluid, that is secreted directly into the small intestine or stored in the gallbladder.

Loose Stool. In traditional Chinese medicine, loose stools, abdominal bloating, lack of energy, and poor appetite can be signs of a condition known as spleen qi deficiency. It doesn't necessarily involve your actual spleen, but it is linked to tiredness and weak digestion brought on by stress and poor diet. (This one fits me)

Pencil Thin Stool. Like loose stools, stool that is pencil thin can be caused by a condition known in traditional Chinese medicine as spleen qi deficiency. (This one's me too)

Eating certain foods in excess is thought to worsen spleen qi deficiency. Offending foods include fried or greasy foods, dairy, raw fruits and vegetables, and cold drinks, all believed to cause "cold" and "dampness" in the body. Dietary treatment of spleen qi deficiency involves eating warm, cooked foods. Ginger tea and cinnamon tea are also warming.

Pencil thin stool can also be caused by a bowel obstruction. Benign rectal polyps, prostate enlargement, colon or prostate cancer are some of the conditions that can cause obstruction.

Hard Stool. With constipation, infrequent or hard stool is passed with straining.

Pellet stool is stool that comes out in small, round balls. In traditional Chinese medicine, pellet stool is caused by a condition known as liver qi stagnation.

Yellow stool can indicate that food is passing through the digestive tract relatively quickly. Yellow stool can be found in people with GERD

The research was productive. I've taken action and I'm finally feeling better now.
I figured out from the Barefoot Doctor's Manual - that I may have spleen qi energy deficiency from overwork and stress and the raw fruits and vegetables were reaking havoc on my bowels.
So I stopped eating the raw fruits and vegies for the time being and introduced more warm cooked foods and LOW AND FUCKING BEHOLD, I IMMEDIATELY FELT BETTER. How incredibly simple. and beautiful. despite the stool descriptions. I apologize.

Warm cooked foods instead of the cold raw ones are making me sooo much better.(unfortunately, the cold raw ones are convenient during busy and hot days)
The warm cooked foods helped AND knowing that Myriam will be coming home soon and that THE RINGERS ARE COMING TO TOWN TOO!!!!!
okay, calm.

Now, I'm sitting here with my ginger tea.

And "Thank you, bootie" was what literally came out of my mouth - in a relieved and gratitude formation sigh - when my stool returned its healthy glow and consistency I've become accustomed to. I , of course, immediately thought of how I had to tell the two of you that I sat on the potty, I said "Thank you, bootie" Out LOUD, because I am feeling better for when my friends visit, my wedding party and finally my digestive tract and I agree that I am almost ready to say "Bon Voyage" with love.

I love you both and cannot wait to see you. Please let the days be easy and graceful until I can see my best friends.
Thank you bootie.

Here we come!!

JETBLUE

Fri, 06 Jun 08
Flight 485
10:00 AM Depart Boston, MA (BOS)
1:06 PM Arrive Long Beach, CA (LGB)

Wed, 11 Jun 08
Flight 486
2:00 PM Depart Long Beach, CA (LGB)
10:34 PM Arrive Boston, MA (BOS)

little white mini van

Hello my lovely lovely amazing beautiful sisters,
These posts are fucking fantastic. Linda, those pictures are beautiful.
Myriam, you and Max are clearly great friends. You even have some of the same facial expressions.
I'm writing this post in letter format, quickly, before I leave for the day outside. It's beautiful today.
And Linda, this is primarily for you - secondarily for Myriam, who is full of sunshine these days, right up her ass - so light filled and lovely.
The point is this:
Yesterday, Mati and I went to the French consolate to see about retaining our visas for France.
Everything was status quo - for Mati. He's in - a no brainer. He has a work contract from the company and his visa will process the same day we apply. Wonderful. For weeks now, I've been dreading the French Consolate and trying to sit with the discomfort of why.
The long list of TO DOs I wrote about previously was weighing on me, but the one thing that was weighing on me the most was the financial statements stuff. Being able to prove that I am financially secure enough to live in France without working for one year - to the tune of around $30,000. (the cute little french man wasn't supposed to say how much...you aren't supposed to know - just bring in the documents...but he hypothetically told us without telling us - bless him)
Mind you, the tears were already welling up in my little disoriented pea brain as we were sitting in the lobby of the tiny little white room with others, more sophisticated and french speaking than I.
So I tripped in my cute brown boots and layered dress skirt shirt combo as we left the building. As we closed the door to the building, my tear gates opened. Big time. And when Mati tried to hug me since he thought everything was working out just fine, I said I needed a little space. And that's when I told him I couldn't go to France - that he must go without me. Because I wasn't going to France as a fraud. The paperwork said I should be able to support myself for a year without working and I have been anxious about that because its not so for me. And the one thing I know in this world that will bring me peace is not pretending to be someone I'm not. And that includes my financial status. So I gave over to the tears and they wouldn't stop coming.
Once I pulled myself together in the rent a car - which was a mini van for us - for the day, since I don't like to drive the Honda on freeway anymore. - We sat in the car and I stated my honest reality. That it is not my intention to go to France in any other way than legitimate and that's when we began talking about another subject the little french man at the consolate brought up. That if we're married, I would go to France under Mati's work visa. And so there in the littel white renta mini van, we began the discussion of marrying and peacefully agreed that we've been married anyway for a long time and maybe this is the universe's way of nudging us into what we already know exists for us.
So we are going to get married. quietly - in a civil ceremony. And I want the people on the planet who are the most important to know that. I love you both. and have not told anyway but the two of you. - and however many billion people come across this blog : )!

i love beets!

as i read the first few lines of the previous post, i thought, ah, this one's written by ruth (sometimes it's obvious right away, and sometimes i have to read a few lines) so you can imagine how pleasantly surprised and proud i was to see that YOU, myriam wrote it. you wrote all about your beautifully colored beet poop, and with pride and joy. you write a gooood story, mj. i was right there with you. just as i can still vividly visualize the beads of sweat forming on ruth's upper lip as the panic swiftly set in her face when max was having a melt down in the quaint and cozy wine store filled with people and i wouldn't come rescue her because i didn't want her to pay for the wine... i can vividly visualize the expressions on your face and the emotions that filled your body...i can picture you relaxed and proud and happy, eager to share with us that you are not only proud of your poop, but already writing your poop post in your head...and then i can clearly see the panic set in fast, the whirlwind of chaos that quickly followed and the toilet overflowed, as kerry was abruptly awoken from a sound slumber, the horror, the horror, the horror. so great. it's so fucking great. i love it.

what i WAS going to write about was love. i was going to write this post with pictures because they make me smile with gratitude every time i see them!

Beet Trauma

I awoke to a a warm welcome from the morning sun. I slowly made my way from the bed to the bathroom as usual. With thoughts of the day ahead, I sat onthe cool porcelin seat, that each morning greeted me. As I finished my business I looked into the bowl as I now do regurlary. To my great delight, a beautiful glow of fuschia peered up at me. For last night I had eaten 6 large beets for dinner. I was tickled with gratitude as my body had processed this and gifted me with big, long fuschia poop. I giggled thinking of the two of you and how connected we are. Ironically, I have a photo of us in the bathroom and so it's as if you are right there with me saying "good poop Myriam!". I flushed the toilet and continued to watch the colors change as water filled up the bowl and then the UNTHINKABLE happened. Yes, to my HORROR, the bowl continued filling and suddenly my heart started thumping with despair. It was happening so fast, and the fear paralyzed me. I stood there in shock as water continued to fill the bowl and the water started OVER FUCKING FLOWING that GODDAMN fuschia that only moments earlier had brought me such joy. BETRAYED, I was BETRAYED by the beet poop! As the water and poop flowed out of the toilet and started dispersing in every freakin crevice in the bathroom, I let out a shriek that echoed death. Standing in the bathroom terrified and naked, I screamed, I screamed from the depth of my being. It's all a blur but somehow I had the good sense to turn the valve and stop the flooding, only after piles of pink poop floated around my feet. Of course by this time, my love had woken by the shrieking and came running, curly hair all in his face "Baby, baby what is it?" "No, I screamed, you can't come in, it's horrible, save yourself, save yourself..." I sobbed through muffled tears.

I leave you with this...

The beet is the most intense of vegetables…Only the beet departs the body the same color as it went in.
At birth we are red-faced, round, intense, pure. The crimson fire of the universal consciousness burns in us. Gradually however we are devoured by parents, gulped by schools, chewed up by peers, swallowed by social institutions, wolfed by bad habits, and gnawed by age; and by the time we have been digested cow style, in those six stomachs, we emerge a single disgusting shade of brown.
The lesson of the beet, then, is this: hold on to your divine blush, your innate rosy magic, or end up brown

(Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume)