Archive for September, 2011
Wasted Time on Independent Films
Image via Wikipedia
My husband and I are movie watchers. We watch everything that comes out, as we are bored and have no television shows we like. In fact, when the selection of movies we haven’t seen gets scarce, we brave the independent films, always getting a backup blockbuster hit, as we know it will most certainly be turned off before it is over. Yet… we still get them.
Now, I classify an Independent film as one that is made to be artsy and offbeat, not appealing to the masses. Many times these films are done by Focus Features. Many times, in fact 99% of the time, they suck. I mean, leave you with a What the Hell? feeling.
This weekend, we watched Greenberg with Ben Stiller. This movie fit the cliche of what artsy and bored, writers, directors, and actors seem to be into these days. Ronchy sex scenes, pointless drug use, complete lack of story arc, and a cut off ending that has no apparent reasoning other than the film running out. Not a nice feeling when you’ve just wasted 2 hours of your night hoping there would be some redemption for all the character’s pointlessness you’ve just endured. It’s my fault though, I should know better by now.
Sometimes I judge wrong and am pleasantly surprised… Rarely, but it happens. For example, another movie we saw this weekend was The Bridesmaids, and it was not at all what I thought it would be. I was sure it would be stupid. I mean, I would have bet on it. Especially since the previews attached to it were for the movie Bring it On. Not a good sign. (Hint: attached previews can tell you a lot about a movie you’re about to watch.) But I was wrong. The Bridesmaids was hilarious! My husband and I were both laughing hysterically multiple times. Even the sex scenes were funny. It was good enough that I’d recommend it.
But movies like this give me a confidence that will work against me in the future, as I will inevitably give some artsy movie a chance, and wind up feeling brain raped and dissatisfied by the end. What to do?
It’s a risky thing, watching movies, but somebody’s got to do it.
-Tara
Waking Up From A Daydream
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Tonight I stood at my kitchen sink imagining myself talking to the women in the new homeschooling group I joined. (Yes, I’m homeschooling again.) They ask me what my educational theory is, and I boldly and unashamedly say that I just follow my heart in the moment. And when they question it, I feel no shame or doubt, in fact I just understand they’re logical thinking, because I used to think that way, and I laugh it off. I know I’m right. It has been proven to me that my heart can be trusted, no matter what anybody else thinks. I can individuate from them, and stand as a fixed point on my own.
And when my Atheist friend smirks at the mention of God, I do not sensor myself, or watch my words, because I know she feels superior to those that believe in a god, but I recognize her understanding as just another religion. I’m totally aware. I’m confident. I can see her thoughts for what they are. They do not affect me and make me feel small and childlike. No, they are her own and not mine. I am free.
Then, as my daydream fades, I come into the moment. I ask myself to see what is there now, not in some fictional daydream.
A pain greats me, one of despair. I don’t understand it at first, because there’s nothing happening in that moment to make me upset, but I know better than to use logic with my heart. It doesn’t care about logic.
So I listen. I hear what it has to say. And then I know. I am despairing over my lack of freedom. I know that my daydream is not real. When I met with the group in reality, I censored myself, doubted my ways, postured my speech, and forgot who I was. I was the opposite of free.
The hold the world has over me is something I wish were not there, but it is. It is a constant battle that leaves me feeling confused, and congested. And I have to sift through thoughts and run through theories, until my mind finally gives up and I am back to the only truth I know… my heart in the moment. Because when I give up, that is all there is left.
To be free.
To be free from the opinions of the world. That is what I long for. To be only me. That is what I crave.
I am not there.
And my heart despairs over it.
-Tara
A Word to Dog People
Make no mistake, this is YOUR dog!
The city I live in is a very dog friendly city. People are obsessed with their dogs here. In fact, there are more dog pampering shops here than I’ve ever seen in one city, and I’ve lived in 14 cities. And the fact that we live across the street from a dog park, only brings some of the issues I have with dog owners to the surface even more.
I would like to point out some of these annoying traits, just because I know you all are so very blind to them.
First, I’d like to address the young married couples with a dog, or two, who are under the delusion that the fact that they are raising a dog together gives them any idea of what it is like to raise a child. The arrogance of your comments about how you’d never do this or that with your child, is complete naivety and makes you look stupid and inexperienced to all the seasoned parents around you. In fact, let me extend this comment to those young (and old barren) people everywhere who think they know it all because they read a book or observed their friends, even if they don’t have a dog. But I especially want to point out the dog people, because I don’t know how many times I’ve heard people compare their dogs to my children, as if they are on some equal playing ground. Frankly, it pisses me off. It is not the same. I have owned a dog and had children. When you have children, you will feel like a fool for this idea in your head, and if not, your stupid.
Second: The little idea in your head that just because you adore your fabulous dog, means everybody else does as well, is wrong. Not everybody shares your sentiment for dogs, so don’t assume they want your dog licking their face, or bugging them until they are sufficiently petted. Have some respect for other people.
Third: It is not okay for your dog to shove its nose in my crotch, jump on me, or scratch me. How would you feel if I let my child punch you in the crotch every time we saw each other? Or sit on your lap and drool on you? Or scratch the hell out of your legs? You would be appalled! And then, you’d comment on how you’d never let your child do such a thing, if you had one.
Which brings me to my next point.
YOUR DOG IS NOT TRAINED AS WELL AS YOU THINK HE IS!
Every single day, I watch dog people in utter shock at what there dog has just done when taken off the leash. They cannot believe that their dog won’t come when called, that they’d run into the street, or maul a complete stranger. Or, here’s my favorite one, when one lady’s three golden retrievers ran into my house and up my stairs when my door opened, she didn’t even try to get them out, she just sat there saying, “I can’t believe they just did that.” Again, what if my kids did that? The same lady would have been appalled at my parenting skills.
Just to make things clear, I don’t mind dogs in and of themselves, but their owners are idiots. If you train your dog and are respectful, I exclude you from this and praise your efforts. However, from what I’ve seen, this comment applies to less than 1% of you. So get it together people. Have some respect.
-Tara
Related articles
- Over 200 postmen attacked by dogs per year (money.marksandspencer.com)
- 10 Things I Hate Part 13 (fishofgold.wordpress.com)
- Dangerous dog owners could face same sentences as knife attackers (money.marksandspencer.com)
Power-less
Posted by Tara in Adventures on September 9, 2011
Image via Wikipedia
There’s something adjusting about a massive power outage. It’s like everyone around you gets unplugged and remembers that there is humanity around them that is not connected exclusively to the end of a text.
Yesterday the whole of San Diego County was without power. The grocery stores shut down, the restaurants did too. All business came to a screeching halt as credit cards could not be accepted and food spoiled. At the local 7-Eleven, an Indian couple accepted cash only and let one person in and one person out at a time to avoid looting. All the ice was bought up, as well as the batteries and flashlights. We bought nothing as we had only a wee $7.00 cash, and figured we could rough it.
We came home from the beach, where we were hanging out with other powerless people, and took inventory. We weren’t that desperate. We were able to make hamburgers for dinner on the barbecue, and we had enough candles to get around the house.
After sunset, it seems the neighborhood came alive. It felt like Halloween night. School and work had been officially canceled for the next day, so a random holiday seemed to break out. Fire pits were lit in a dozen backyards that all face the communal open space. Teenagers armed with flashlights, took to the open space trails, and believe it or not, drumming filled the air, along with some sort of chanting and singing.
The moon was large and bright, and created the perfect nightlight for our kids who were camped out on the living room floor, and my husband and I strummed the few chords we know on the guitar.
It makes me wonder, what would the world be like if there wasn’t any power? What would dad’s do if they couldn’t watch television? Or kids do if there weren’t video games? Moms are perfect, so nothing would change there, obviously.
I think it would be different. Good different.
But power is important, as we are not prepared to live without it. We need refrigerators, and gas pumps, and phone reception. We need heat and air conditioner, and hot water. We need food. We are co-dependent, not self-sufficient. And that was strikingly apparent last night when we were on our own.
-Tara
Related articles
- Outage causes San Diego County to close schools (sfgate.com)
- I Survived the Blackout of 2011 – and 1965! (monicastangledweb.com)
- San Diego hit by power outage- 1.4 million customers without electricity (theextinctionprotocol.wordpress.com)
Confession of a theory spewer
I feel I owe a public confession to a woman I talked to on the phone today. After hanging up with her, I realized how much theology bullshit I woofed at her in an effort to make a good impression. To seem like I have this great spiritual insight, and to prove that I am special. So here it goes:
Joanie,
I’m sorry for posturing. I get wounded when I feel equal to others. When I don’t feel that all the experiences I’ve had make me special. It threatened me when you talked about me learning from my dad, because I have gone through great strides to remove the spiritual authority I’ve allowed him to have over me in my life. It scared me. And when you said my dad told you I’d learned it not from him, but god himself, i was proud and I wanted to prove to you my spiritual maturity. This is not okay. It is everything I am fighting against. I do not want to throw my theories or theology at you. You deserve truth, not posturing. So here is my truth: currently, I am lost and confused, holding on by a thread. I understand nothing, I have no hope in any direction, other than the idea that I’m not the one writing the story, and all I have to offer is how I feel in the moment. Even then, my heart is usually so guarded, I can scarcely access it. I’d like to believe it’s about me and god and that’s it, but I struggle with that. If that’s true, then at the moment I have nothing but ashes to eat, as my relationship is lacking. I am afraid that my thinking is really an excuse to not take responsibility for my life, but an effort to pawn it off onto god and blame him if it’s a bust. I don’t think I have what it takes today. I hope that will change. I hope he really will pull me out. Because I cannot seem to do it myself. And that’s me. No glamour right now. All I have is
my truth. And it really does seem to set me free, as ugly as it would appear. God seems to have deserted me, and it’s embarrassing to me. I feel foolish for telling everyone else they were wrong about god, because the path I’ve followed has left me empty and without god. I can offer no advice. Follow your own heart, for mine has not been proven.
(I love myself because of the truth. Amazing. I did not expect that. I thought it would have to be “good” truth, but no. Any old truth about me just seems so damn desirable. Hmm. Go figure. )
-tara
The Reality Of My Free Time
Posted by Tara in Adventures, Thoughts on September 8, 2011
Image by George Eastman House via Flickr
I’ve mentioned before that I homeschooled my children until the second half of last year, when they decided to quench their curiosity for school and enter the world of the daily social grind of the classroom. Whereupon I decided to do the same and went to work.
Come summer, I gave up my job, which bored me, and stayed home once more with them. I considered homeschooling again, but when interrogated, my children all agreed they’d like to go to school full time. I had mixed emotions about this. I’m not very fond of being responsible for their education, and I know they’re bored and want the constant social interaction, but I was afraid of losing all that I had built in them before. The sense of family. The freedom of living without a schedule.
As the summer went on, and they got into the school we wanted, I began to grow excited for them. Imagine being entertained for six hours a day, 5 days a week! Especially since the school is one of those hippy schools where the students call their teachers by their first names and there are no textbooks, only exploratory and project learning. You know, the fun kind where they actually learn things. It’s like summer camp all year.
Then I began to think about all the free time I’d have. Hmm. I’ve never had that kind of free time. I’ve been around my children on a near constant basis for almost 12 years. 12 years! They’re not hanging on my legs or anything anymore, but they’re around me. What would I do with those six free and empty hours I would now be receiving?
Visions of grandeur filled my head. I’d learn instruments, meet friends at coffee shops, write blogs, go to the beach, who knows? There was no limit to my potential!
Then, I started to stress about not using this ample free time for something cool. What if all I did was come home and sleep? What if I would slip into loserville and waste away as an insignificant person, because that’s what was really hidden underneath it all?
The pressure of these six hours was really getting to me.
Then I decided I’d better not plan, because with me, anything could happen at any time, and planning was futile. I gave up thinking about it and succumbed to the moment.
Well, my kids have officially been in school for three days. They love it! They’re meeting friends, battling lunch time ants, and navigating the social qualms of life outside the home. They could not be happier.
Me? Well, like I’ve harped on and on about it before, I never know how I’m going to actually feel or react in the moment, and this is definitely not an exception. My first day of freedom, I came home, cleaned, and sat on a chair extremely depressed where I fell asleep until it was time to pick them up. The second day (yesterday), I sat around depressed again until I finally picked up my old guitar and started practicing, which helped a little. But I couldn’t believe how depressed I was. I felt like I needed medication. I knew something must be seriously wrong with me. But then when I picked up my kids I didn’t feel depressed any more. Hmm. Then today, I was all cheerful this morning getting my kids off to school, and as soon as I got into my car after walking them to class, I felt a loneliness kick in.
And then I realized it. This was not some serious conundrum that required medication, I just missed my kids! Amazingly, I have never considered the fact that I would miss them. That their little auras have kept me company all these years. It’s not like I’m one of those moms that has to be around my kids constantly. We are usually all in the same house, but all doing our own thing. I’m generally annoyed that they interrupt my thoughtful pondering or want me to look at something they’ve built upstairs. And I have to force myself to play games with them. So missing them never crossed my mind.
But the reality of the moment proves otherwise. All their little quirks and sounds, the humming of their existence, it fills up my house with life. And when they are gone, it is empty.
Somehow, realizing this has freed me today. I can acknowledge that I miss my kids, and that I am not a crazy lunatic who needs medication. And I can began to get reacquainted with myself as good company. Today I plan to hit the beach, where I might just take a nap, as I can never do this while keeping a watchful eye on my children. And I’ll practice the guitar. And who knows, I may even clean a bit. (This would be greatly appreciated by my family I’m sure.) And If I’m really on top of it, I’ll finally make those blueberry muffins I’ve been planning to make all week, before the blueberries go bad on me.
This is the moment.
-Tara
What “Right” Thinking Has Done For Me
Last night I watched the movie The Beaver with Mel Gibson and Jodie Foster. It was a great movie about a seriously depressed man (Mel Gibson) who develops a split personality via a beaver hand puppet in order to survive. By the end of this movie, I was in serious tears. Bawling my eyes out after an emotional movie is somewhat of a regular thing for me. It seems once I open the floodgates, all that I am holding back just comes out at once.
Thank God my husband gets this about me. He just waits for me to finish and then says, “Do you want to talk?”
This is of course very exposing and a bit embarrassing, but being able to touch and feel my emotions is worth it. While my emotions were raw, I realized how much I related to the hopeless insanity of ones own mind. I feel this way so often: trapped within my own web, unable to free myself. And it brings to the forefront of my awareness, how hopeless I am without God.
I have traversed all logical paths, and come up short every time. It seems that no matter which way I turn, whether it be the narrow path, the widely traveled path, or blazing a new trail, they all end the same: meaningless and without a capture of the heart.
For that is what I am seeking, an alive heart.
As I have mentioned in so many other posts, I feel like I found my alive heart about a year and a half ago. I feel like I found this sort of perfection with God. A real relationship where two hearts are open and known. And it set me free like I never thought possible.
While enjoying this relationship and freedom, God showed me many things about himself and the world. He began to open my mind and reveal many lies I’d been told. I was amazed and took the things he said to heart. I believed them and held onto them.
And then something horrible happened. I grabbed those new ideas and made them important. And he left me with my new theories to try them out.
This I have been doing this past year and a half. Trying to open my heart in the moment, be truthful no matter what, and to realize that the world is defined not by good and bad, but truth and lies. But, something happened that I did not expect. The words and theories became thin and meaningless. And no matter how much I have tried to follow these new ideas, I have been unable to. All my efforts have been in vain and my paths insanity. The atmosphere around me is shallow, and my heart is hidden deep within me, unable to be awakened. And no matter how much I have reached out to God, I cannot establish relationship with him.
This has made me feel like a failure. It has made me doubt that God ever really wanted a relationship with me. And though I cannot deny the realness of God in my life, as he has a constant fingerprint on my circumstance, I cannot feel his emotions or see his truth that cuts through all logic and facts. Like a father trying to buy their child’s affection with gifts, but never around to hold or comfort them.
And last night, as I realized all this, I said aloud, “I realize now that all theology, no matter how true or relevant, means absolutely nothing without a relationship with God.”
And then it hit me. That has been what God was trying to show me. That it really is about me and him and that’s it. Even if he described all his thinking to me. All his universal plans. How heaven is designed. What the end times will look like. What role we will have. How he feels about people. How he feels about himself. If I have only the knowledge, yet lack the relationship, I have nothing. The relationship is everything.
It is everything.
And once tasted, no substitute will do. I will crave it for the rest of my life… for the rest of eternity. Like a crazed addict. A blighted lover. A hungry child.
This I know now for a fact. It is no longer theory to me. I have lived a God-filled life, where his miracles are everywhere, but where his presence is not, and it has meant nothing to me. It left me to wither and die, and to become a mere shell.
But let me taste him. Let me feel his soul inside of me. Feel the world through him. And you can keep all your right thinking. I will be the fool in the corner who is completely full and alive, and cares not what you or anyone else would say about right thinking.
This moment.
-Tara
I’d Take Drugs if They Wouldn’t Make my Teeth Fall Out.
Not willing to go here...
After being in a complete state of depression for a good part of the day (the serious kind where I feel I have no purpose, and am basically a complete loser), I headed out to get some fresh air and a coffee. I felt that if I was going to even begin to pull myself out of my self wallowing, I would need a legal addictive stimulant to help me along the way. I seriously considered a large bag of Halloween candy they are now selling at Costco for the sugar high, but my mother reminded me over the phone that this would not be a good idea. She pointed out that not only would it give me a double chin and elbow creases, but that I would probably go into shock, as my body is not all that accustomed to eating things of the sort. (She doesn’t know what my pregnancy diet has looked like. It has not been good.)
So I headed out for Starbucks to get some caffeine. I only need a small amount of caffeine, so don’t freak out about me being pregnant. I literally get a “short” latte. Many of you probably didn’t realize you could order a size called a “short”, but you can. It’s a Starbucks secret that they don’t really want you to know. They want you addicted to large amounts of coffee, as it is more profitable.
Anyhow, about 5 minutes after I started sipping down my coffee, the world began to turn a different color. Instead of a melancholy blueish black, it became a vibrant red, full of life. I no longer felt like a loser, but like I was actually the coolest girl ever. I felt like any life that I chose to live, would be amazing, as nothing short of that could come from me, and oppression was a thing of the past.
Yes. The power of coffee. Imagine if I’d ordered a Vente! But I resist… partly because of the baby, but mostly because of my health.
And this brings me to the point I’d like to make about hard, illegal drugs. I would absolutely partake in them if I could do it without all the negative effects. First off, I don’t like that I’d get addicted. That would suck. Because then I’d do all sorts of things to get the money for the drugs, and being a crack whore does not sound glamorous at all. Second, it would do all sorts of horrible things to my body. You’ve seen the anti-drug campaigns, no teeth, wrinkled skin, black lungs, screwed up brain, and a hick accent. Call me vain, but I’m not okay with that.
Other than those two very good reasons, I’d love to do drugs. I’d love to make myself have energy whenever I needed it, or feel happy or euphoric, or really relaxed. And I think I could really get in touch with the spiritual realm with some good LSD trips. But I’ll never know. Thanks to all the anti-drug campaigns, and the fact that my dad was a drug rehab therapist when I was growing up, I have the constant image of the toothless woman who’s whole life is messed up and in shambles because of her drug bliss, so I cannot cross the line.
So here I remain. Drug free. Except for caffeine, sugar, and an occasional bought of party drinking… which always ends with me asleep after like one glass of wine.
The naked truth.
-Tara
