I am always surprised about what is unfinished in people's homes. I should start off by saying that there are several "unfinished" elements in my home. My room is a good example, not satisfied with off the shelf, it can take me years to finish decorating a room. I don't want to go purchase it all together (comforter sets don't work for me), but I desire to assemble it all over time...things get reinterpreted. My black and white prints from France: enlarged and copied onto parchment-looking paper. Pieces of fabric folded and placed over the top of my chair...but not really sewn or finished. Life happens with a bit of a fray around the edges and it comes together. Just about when it is finished, deconstruction starts to occur, or newer items replace older one: a souvenier from Uganda replaces the Scottish ones from a decade earlier.
So, I'm currently house/petsitting and the item that spawned this post, glared at me from the ceiling: four plaster patches of varying rectangular size on the den ceiling. The house is finished otherwise, but this spackling is looks like it was just put up. No sanding. No paint. Which makes curious as to why this repair even exists in spots about a foot from each other, random sizes and arrangements in relation to each other. Water leak? Nah, the bathroom is in a different section. Ceiling lighting? Not in that pattern...any other ideas...not really. I think that I shall have to ask the owner when she returns.
And we won't even start to talk about my bathroom...I'm not sure if it is on the reconstruction or deconstruction path...
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
The Consumerism of Christmas
I could start to rant and rave about the consumerism of Christmas. It is truly atrocious and ridiculous. But, for some reason I do not have it in me. Plus, I would probably just be preaching to the choir.
I truly like (maybe love) gift-giving. But, if you have known me long enough, youhave probably received a gift about six months late at least once. My family is famous for IOU presents. Which means that about 50% of the time they never really appear. But, that's ok, because it is the thought that counts.... This approach to gift giving does not really work well with friends and new family. Speaking of "new family", due to the addition of my brother-in-laws to the family, I have actually received real gifts for my birthday.
But, here is why I love gift giving for those I love. I really enjoy finding that one thing that they will find beautiful or that they were really hoping for, or a complete surprise. Most of the jewelry that I wear on a regular basis was given to me by two of my closest friends. I love seeing them wear jewely that I gave them...or my sisters wearing the scarves that I crocheted for them in my irregular knots, similar to a camel's gate. It is not so much the item, but the relationship that is brought closer. I don't give a lot of thought to witchcraft, but I find amulets to be quite interesting. Witchcraft attemptes to manipulate people by the use of matter, often. It can require an item of that person. Our things are physical extensions of ourselves, to a degree. They can have power over us, or we can have power over them. Or, sometimes, we are freed from them and them from us. Not to say that matter, the physical is bad, because I am neither a gnostic nor given to cultic beliefs that exalt the "non-physical". The physical can be sacred because the spiritual is not disconnected. That's why our bodies are sacred. They are temples of our soul (or possibly the Holy Spirit), so that's why violation of our bodies hurts so bad. But, anyways, I think that I was talking about something a little lighter-gifts. Gifts can be a physical manifestation of our love for each other. In "The Five Love Languages"-gift giving is one the "love languages". I admit that it is not my strongest "love language". I am not rally sure is....I speak them all pretty loudly and receive them pretty well, too!
So, gift-giving can be good. But, if the point about Christmas is lost in gift-buying, and sometimes the purchases are not to show love, but for other reasons. And the marketeers capitalize on this....it is how our society works. So, maybe for those that are finally starting to see the gluttonish consumerism, they can see that it applies to our lives in general-at least in the States. There are a couple of reactions that I have had to this behavior-one involving soap boxes and tired looks on my parents' face as discuss my feelings ad nauseum at the dinner table. I would make a call for ethical consumerism, because I cannot figure out how to extrapolate myself from the system (and the not-quite-sustainable farm in West Virginia doesn't look like it is going to happen). Maybe it is not perfect (maybe Fair Trade doesn't work??!! It was my hope!), but it is a better way. Things are pretty broken here on planet Earth (and apparently we are polluting the space around our orb, too), but we can try for a better way. Fair trade. Buy red. Buy local (I have heard some contrary opinions on this). Eat organic, if not for your body for the birds and land and migrant workers and everyone...which can be expensive. Just be a little more conscious about how you spend money and enjoy the things that really matter....like your little sister making a collage (yes, she is young enough to be my daughter!), a friend's Christmas card in the mail (even without a limerick), the smell of the tree, hope that things can be better. Man, I am such an idealist....well, not really, but you have to read more.
I truly like (maybe love) gift-giving. But, if you have known me long enough, youhave probably received a gift about six months late at least once. My family is famous for IOU presents. Which means that about 50% of the time they never really appear. But, that's ok, because it is the thought that counts.... This approach to gift giving does not really work well with friends and new family. Speaking of "new family", due to the addition of my brother-in-laws to the family, I have actually received real gifts for my birthday.
But, here is why I love gift giving for those I love. I really enjoy finding that one thing that they will find beautiful or that they were really hoping for, or a complete surprise. Most of the jewelry that I wear on a regular basis was given to me by two of my closest friends. I love seeing them wear jewely that I gave them...or my sisters wearing the scarves that I crocheted for them in my irregular knots, similar to a camel's gate. It is not so much the item, but the relationship that is brought closer. I don't give a lot of thought to witchcraft, but I find amulets to be quite interesting. Witchcraft attemptes to manipulate people by the use of matter, often. It can require an item of that person. Our things are physical extensions of ourselves, to a degree. They can have power over us, or we can have power over them. Or, sometimes, we are freed from them and them from us. Not to say that matter, the physical is bad, because I am neither a gnostic nor given to cultic beliefs that exalt the "non-physical". The physical can be sacred because the spiritual is not disconnected. That's why our bodies are sacred. They are temples of our soul (or possibly the Holy Spirit), so that's why violation of our bodies hurts so bad. But, anyways, I think that I was talking about something a little lighter-gifts. Gifts can be a physical manifestation of our love for each other. In "The Five Love Languages"-gift giving is one the "love languages". I admit that it is not my strongest "love language". I am not rally sure is....I speak them all pretty loudly and receive them pretty well, too!
So, gift-giving can be good. But, if the point about Christmas is lost in gift-buying, and sometimes the purchases are not to show love, but for other reasons. And the marketeers capitalize on this....it is how our society works. So, maybe for those that are finally starting to see the gluttonish consumerism, they can see that it applies to our lives in general-at least in the States. There are a couple of reactions that I have had to this behavior-one involving soap boxes and tired looks on my parents' face as discuss my feelings ad nauseum at the dinner table. I would make a call for ethical consumerism, because I cannot figure out how to extrapolate myself from the system (and the not-quite-sustainable farm in West Virginia doesn't look like it is going to happen). Maybe it is not perfect (maybe Fair Trade doesn't work??!! It was my hope!), but it is a better way. Things are pretty broken here on planet Earth (and apparently we are polluting the space around our orb, too), but we can try for a better way. Fair trade. Buy red. Buy local (I have heard some contrary opinions on this). Eat organic, if not for your body for the birds and land and migrant workers and everyone...which can be expensive. Just be a little more conscious about how you spend money and enjoy the things that really matter....like your little sister making a collage (yes, she is young enough to be my daughter!), a friend's Christmas card in the mail (even without a limerick), the smell of the tree, hope that things can be better. Man, I am such an idealist....well, not really, but you have to read more.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
ramblings
Often, when I am walking down the street or sitting on the lite rail, narratives run through my head of events that occur or little thoughts that I could write in my blog. But, I am so far from my computer and too lazy (often) to write them down. So...brain synapses happen, but nothing more. However, my one apparent fan of the blog (ex-boyfriend mentioned previously) has asked me to update my blog. But, he is going to need to respond to my blog at some point....
Lately, I have noticed smells. I mean, I notice the bad smells all the time. The pollution. Human smell on the streets. etc. But a smell hit me the other day, walking down Baltimore Street, that reminded me of London. All of a sudden, I felt that I was walking down Oxford Street. It was the weirdest sensation. There are days this fall that hit me like England...they remind me of a damp Devon winter day. All that a day like that holds...tea with milk, a chocolate biscuit, a warm cozy wrap and maybe someone else to go along with it. Or, from my earlier days as a young teen, the wind howling through the vale, rattling up on the windows, little drafts pushing me deeper into a wool blanket. Memories. They come fleeting, just wiffs of the past. Sometimes I want to cry because of how time goes by. Friendships won and lost. People that I loved but can never find again. Other times, memories are just a sensation. No regrets (these memories apply more to my early twenties) and how the world is this great big place with amazing opportunities. Sometimes, the memories are anxious, like the feeling that elevator exhaust, that metallic taste creates. It reminds me of Indonesia and Dubrovnik-places designated as resorts, but some sort of work for me.
Memories are weird things. My friend reminded me that we met three years ago. That's a long time. But, I have other friends I met back in 1997, 9 years ago. And we are closer than ever, I think. I hope.
I don't have many regrets....life brings experiences. I may not have acted in the wisest manner always, but I have experienced a lot of grace and love and some hurt and pain as well. But, it all creates a life.
Lately, I have noticed smells. I mean, I notice the bad smells all the time. The pollution. Human smell on the streets. etc. But a smell hit me the other day, walking down Baltimore Street, that reminded me of London. All of a sudden, I felt that I was walking down Oxford Street. It was the weirdest sensation. There are days this fall that hit me like England...they remind me of a damp Devon winter day. All that a day like that holds...tea with milk, a chocolate biscuit, a warm cozy wrap and maybe someone else to go along with it. Or, from my earlier days as a young teen, the wind howling through the vale, rattling up on the windows, little drafts pushing me deeper into a wool blanket. Memories. They come fleeting, just wiffs of the past. Sometimes I want to cry because of how time goes by. Friendships won and lost. People that I loved but can never find again. Other times, memories are just a sensation. No regrets (these memories apply more to my early twenties) and how the world is this great big place with amazing opportunities. Sometimes, the memories are anxious, like the feeling that elevator exhaust, that metallic taste creates. It reminds me of Indonesia and Dubrovnik-places designated as resorts, but some sort of work for me.
Memories are weird things. My friend reminded me that we met three years ago. That's a long time. But, I have other friends I met back in 1997, 9 years ago. And we are closer than ever, I think. I hope.
I don't have many regrets....life brings experiences. I may not have acted in the wisest manner always, but I have experienced a lot of grace and love and some hurt and pain as well. But, it all creates a life.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Post-Thanksgiving Anxiety
Well, the end of Thanksgiving weekend heralds the beginning of the Christmas season and then the New Year. I spent most of this week sick with the cold from not-a-nice place. I am still fighting off its effects.
However, it was a nice week otherwise. My sister from FL came to visit this weekend. She was "babysitting" my little sister who lives here. So, we had lots of "sister" moments with the little one hitting us on our butts and telling us that we are her sisters. She thinks that everyone has sisters a couple decades older than they are. Funny....we try to explain that a babysitter is not necessarily a sibling....
So, I want to get back to my writing about my friends. My ex, who I wrote briefly about in the last post called me up to let me know that he thought my post was innacurate-our relationship did not start slow....of course, it took years for him to make a move. It was a fast move, though! So, I suppose that I stand corrected in one aspect, but I am still right from my perspective.
My PT anxiety stems from the fact that I am procrastinating with life. I know that I want to go to grad school, but I am not sure what to study. I know that I need to take the GRE for some courses of study. Top that off with a heavy dose of feeling age creep up on me and I end up with anxiety. I feel like all of the things that I learned while reading "Ruthless Trust" have fallen quickly to the wayside. So, I suppose that I am going to pick myself up, realize that I have time. Time to be. Today I was told that I was loved for who I was/am. My rational self screams against this. And yet, that is all that I want. Not to be loved for my perceived "goodness", or my lofty dreams, my silliness, or even my exellent cooking skills (which are highly debatable). I have nothing to say at this point.
However, it was a nice week otherwise. My sister from FL came to visit this weekend. She was "babysitting" my little sister who lives here. So, we had lots of "sister" moments with the little one hitting us on our butts and telling us that we are her sisters. She thinks that everyone has sisters a couple decades older than they are. Funny....we try to explain that a babysitter is not necessarily a sibling....
So, I want to get back to my writing about my friends. My ex, who I wrote briefly about in the last post called me up to let me know that he thought my post was innacurate-our relationship did not start slow....of course, it took years for him to make a move. It was a fast move, though! So, I suppose that I stand corrected in one aspect, but I am still right from my perspective.
My PT anxiety stems from the fact that I am procrastinating with life. I know that I want to go to grad school, but I am not sure what to study. I know that I need to take the GRE for some courses of study. Top that off with a heavy dose of feeling age creep up on me and I end up with anxiety. I feel like all of the things that I learned while reading "Ruthless Trust" have fallen quickly to the wayside. So, I suppose that I am going to pick myself up, realize that I have time. Time to be. Today I was told that I was loved for who I was/am. My rational self screams against this. And yet, that is all that I want. Not to be loved for my perceived "goodness", or my lofty dreams, my silliness, or even my exellent cooking skills (which are highly debatable). I have nothing to say at this point.
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