changes

When I began this blog, I was starting a new chapter in my life. I kept the blog the way I was hoping to keep my life. Simple. A black and white text. Simple.
I still am working on my simple approach to life. I take pleasure in everyday and the simple fun that I create with those I love. I eat simply. I find my fun in simple things. Walks, runs, puppy snuggles.
Its a philosophy that is working well for me.
My winter has been complicated with my maternal grandmother's death. She was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and passed six weeks later. I've understood the anguish of seeing someone you love, loose someone they love. I have never seen my ma hurt like this. The situation is made markedly more complex with the lack of... um... speaking on my family's part for most of my life. Dysfunctional, addicted, and damaged as they are when I look at my 35 years on this planet, they have been on speaking terms with my immediate family for 13 of them (my first 8 years and five years during my twenties). My ma (with her amazing capacity for love and forgiveness) and her mother attempted to make amends and have what little bit of a relationship that they could muster in what days remained. My mom sat at her mother's bedside, patted her, brought special gifts of treats and imported favorite flowers to make the remaining time as pleasant as possible.
Her mother, however, did not choose to mend her relationship with me.
As my family gathered together in the last times (not lovingly... but together) I was not there. I suppose I could have gone without an invite or inquiry, but you have to know my family to understand that without either, I was not welcome. So my family very awkwardly did not mention my mom's only child in their terse catching up.
I felt horribly that I was not there to hold my mom's hand as she held her own mother's. I did what I could. Picked up gifts for her to take to her parents when she was too busy to go to the store. Cooked dinners and sent them to her and gave IV treatments to her dying cat (really... can the lady get a damn break?)
It was made beyond clear, that my mom has not been welcomed back with open arms. But she maintains a terse and weird relationship (perhaps more communication) with her now widowed father. Still there is no mention of his granddaughter who looks so much like his mother and is so much like him.
I still strive for simplicity in this less than simple situation. So I simply try to be the best me I can be everyday and accept this weirdness for what it is. Weird. And sad. And not something I can fix. So its not my problem.

One of my simple solutions has been found in new sports. Each week I take out whatever frustrations I might have pushed aside by kicking and punching and sweating in Krav Maga. Its simple. You hit. You get hit. You kick. You block. It leaves marks. It reminds me to be at peace and be powerful. They are part of the same circle.

Even more simple are my crossfit workouts (this has become a passion and an addiction). We do simple functional movements. Quickly. And many times. There is no shiny equipment. No one matches. Everyone swears. I love it.

As a result I've significantly changed my diet. Most of you who know me, know my frustration with the lack of results I've had with years and years of dedicated training and 'eating right.' I've recently begun eating a Paleolithic Diet. Its a huge shift from what I've done previously, but still very simple. I eat meat, a shit ton of veggies, fruit and nuts. No grains, no dairy, no sugar. That's it. I am already seeing results in crossfit that even my instructor is noticing. Last week I did my February 1x max deadlift...16 times. I do unmodified push ups. I feel really good. Its working for me. Perhaps not others, but me.

I like the simplicity in my training, and my eating. The focus on these parts of my life, the parts I can control help to create a simple way of dealing with the complicated things I cannot control. It really is quite simple. I control what I can. What I can't.... isn't my problem. Its so en grained in me, that finally I'm ready to find the color in my simplicity.

Snowdays, Happiness and Philosophy

Yesterday was a snow day. For a grown person, there is a system to snow days. You wake up a bit early to begin watching the news and lay in bed a wee bit longer waiting for your school district to run by on the ticker at the bottom of screen, hopeful that you'll be able to stay there. I love, love, love snow days. Growing up in Alaska we had two the entire 13 years I was in school. Both of these days I went to school only to find an empty parking lot because it didn't occur to me that there wouldn't be school (we had new superintendent of schools who was from Texas). Its an unplanned treat that I relish. Something in the winter to look forward to. A day off without a list of household chores, weekend jobs, or Krav classes.
So yesterday I spent extra time snuggled in bed, coffee in hand and puppy at my feet watching local news and The Today Show. I know, I know.... guilty pleasure, I guess. Really, I was doing some work for the university, drinking coffee with the TV was on for background. But I turned the volume up for this segment. The Happiness Project. Basically, a lady devoted a year to being happier. Taking pleasure in the little things. Her book is a best seller. Really? Really? Is this what we've come to? We need someone to remind us to take pleasure in the little things and that will make us happy?
Apparently so.
There is a part of me that is amazed by this. And then there is the other part of me. The discourse analyst (ya'll forget about that part of me, dontcha?). This part of me hears what people say. I hear the complaining they do. Christmas is too hard, grocery shopping is lame, I hate my job, the kids are driving me nuts, its too cold, its too hot, blah-zey skip.
I think about how my interactions with people go.
*****
"Oh. Junior high...that's a hard age."
Its an honor. I love it.
"Well. You're crazy." (read as: full of shit) Why would you do this with a doctorate?
I want to give back to a community that gave me a great deal.
Blank stare. I don't know why you got a doctorate if you're not going to use it.
Um. Well I do teach part time at the university and ya know, I like to think it helps the kids.
******
Looking at my green monster smoothie: "That is nasty. I don't know how you eat that. You're one of those weird healthy people. Working out all the time. That's all you do and its not like you're a size two."
Um. Don't really want to be a size two, I sort of like looking like a girl. The smoothie just tastes like any fruit smoothie. I like them it gives me 2 veggies and 3 fruits to start my day. I like to run and stuff. Its fun.
You have a weird idea of fun.
******
How do you drive so far to work every day?
Well ya know... I'm looking forward to being closer, but I've got a reliable car, and its kind of nice. I drink my coffee on the way in, talk to friends on the way home...its about the only time I'm sitting in the same spot every day. And plus, I have a beautiful country road drive every day. I get to watch the sun rise in the morning. I don't mind.
Well, I couldn't do that.
******
I think about my own life. The joy I get out of puppy snuggles or watching my rescue dogs who've come so far playing and being silly with each other. I enjoy immensely going to the grocery (I come from people who rarely have what they'd like to eat and sometimes haven't had enough...I love the grocery). I feel wonderful after a crossfit workout where I do a hundred push ups or a zillion squats (ok. maybe that's an exaggeration...but not much of one) before I go to work at 7 am. I am tickled to make a pizza with homemade rosemary crust that is as good as a pricey restaurant for only a couple of dollars (and it is healthy!). I think about how my students make me laugh everyday and how I think I broke a kid's heart when I told my class that I would be 35 in July (this makes me older than his parents...and he's got a bit of a crush...and older than his parents makes me old by 8th grade standards). Are you really?? I'm tickled to take my mom her lunch after 18 years of her making mine. The sunrise on the way to work really is beautiful and I drive past the homestead (the 33 plus acres that will someday be home) and smile at the way the sun comes up behind the woods.
I don't lust after fancy purses (ok. I like a sharp purse but I don't need a collection), I don't need fancy cars (something to hold two big dogs and camping gear and a bike rack will do me), and the house we're looking to build is for us and our simple life, not status. Granted, I've decided what life I want to have. I didn't go to the academy full time...it wasn't a good fit for me...it doesn't lend itself to simplicity. I chose an odd match of a partner, but a good and healthy relationship...and I stick to it. I choose friendships that are positive and supportive. But I didn't need a book to tell me not to take for granted that Big Dog just put his head on my knee and is wiggling his tail at me telling me things with this doggie telepathy.
What the hell has happened to the world that we need books to remind us of this?

An experiment in black beans...

I found this recipe for black bean soup over the holiday break.
I love black bean soup.
According to he Law of Soup (see Rules for Being Dr. Err section 8) it is imperative that I try to make a large batch of soup to freeze for easy dinners (read as: when I get home late and The Boy has to make dinner). Typically, I take about half of my homemade soups to my mom for her lunches at work. Its a joy to know that she is getting a good/whole meal in and she likes it. She and my dad both work a lot (wonder where I get it...) and my dad fixes all dinners when my mom works. But he's not as into the whole food philosophy as I am... or vegetables for that matter. That's a RIOT considering that not eating veggies was.not.an.option. when I was growing up.

/*disclaimer* I am totally thankful for his making me eat vegetables when I was a kid because it has shaped who I am now. However, that led to considerable drama when I was a young person and once it led to me carrying around a nasty slimy cooked carrot for a day or two when I was four. *ahem* I get my stubborn streak from my dad. /*disclaimer*

This recipe appealed to me for many reasons. One, because I think I like TGIF's black bean soup (yes, I still have to ask my mom what kind of gravy I like when I go out to eat. shoot me.). Two, I know my mom likes it and she's a third of my eating audience. Three, it has a potential for a high vegetable content. So I doubled the recipe and gave it a go.


Doubling the recipe leads to a lot of veggie cut-up prep work (one reason I used this recipe is because I figured I could sneak in a serving of veggies in each bowl). To cut up double amounts (and i always add a bit extra in the veggie department) and some extra celery for lentil tacos later this week, my total cut up time was 15 minutes or so. I'm not a real cook people....no real knife skills for this kid.


*notice I cut the green peppers larger....I really like green peppers and wanted to really be able to taste them.

You need 8 cans of black beans for a double batch of this soup. I had 4. Crap. Lucky for me, I had 6 cups of frozen beans that I had cooked in the garage. Sweet. Except for that when I got them in the pot, I wasn't sure if they were black beans or red ones...but I'm pretty sure they were black beans. :)

Once everything was in the pot I let it simmer for an hour and a half or so.


I got right around 10 large bowls out of this recipe. Serving and a half of veggies per bowl. *suh-weet!* I garnished with vegan cheese and tofutti sour cream. My mom and TB love, love, love it. In fact, TB said its the best soup that I've ever fixed. I dunno that I'd go that far...but with a side of cornbread it is a wonderful dinner. I will totally be fixing it again.

All in all, its a way cheap, healthy, and high protein meal. And the more I think about it... the more sure I am that the beans were black....

And the cooking begins

It has been wonderful to have some time off. I worked the first week of break and then spent much of the week after Christmas with one of these dogs in my lap.



Can you blame me? 74 pounds for the light colored one and 60 pounds for the little black one, I often end up with both of them trying to squeeze next to me. There is no better way to recharge one's batteries than by sucking up the good energy of these two boys.

I've been relieved of my duties at my mom's store until there is a busy day, she can't be there, or one of her (I'll save my commentary here) employees quits to do um...nothing. Good help is damn hard to find, people. I've got only one class to teach at the university and am looking forward to working on getting to that sense of balance in my life. I'm very much looking forward to trying some new recipes that I've been drooling over the last couple of months. I've got a fancy new food processor (like, I'm a little scared to use it) and a big butcher's block cutting board and am ready to get busy using them. We'll see just how fuzzy that fantasy/reality line gets between my kitchen and the food network.

Although...a side note for those of you who know me.... I hate stuff out on my counters. I even put the burner thingies away on my stove and get them out when I need them. However, with my little kitchen and little bit of storage I am doing a piss poor job of it.... My cutting block, red Kitchen Aid stand mixer (swoon), Kitchen Aide Architect processor, Kitchen Aid blender, (thus far, I have been really happy with these appliances) espresso machine and coffee pot all live on the counter. I've also added some lovely large glass jars for things like onions, potatoes, apples, and garlic because my crisper drawers (and meat drawer which is usually full of stuff that should be crispered) isn't big enough. They are pretty and look really sharp, but they are on the counter. Gah. I have to keep a beat down like hold on my inner Rain(WO)man.

I've been wanting to make my own veggie burgers. Making them yourself, you control things like salt, additives and any overly processed ingredients. Also, you're looking at a buck or so for maybe 8 burgers instead of maybe eight bucks for the same bought in a store. That extra money goes pretty far on organic root veggies and apples. I noticed on Vegan Dad (see my blog roll) a recipe for sausages and thought it would be the same. FAIL. Somewhere, I blew it. Maybe its because I don't have a real steamer.

This is my stock pot full of water going at a full tilt boogie boil.
I've decided that even if it had worked, the hour plus it would have taken to make four... was not worth it. I can live with buying my vegan sausages from Trader Joe's.

However, in my ongoing quest to 'eat the rainbow' and increase my veggie intake (in a real way...beyond, 'this is my side of veggies' which often leaves you feeling like you're grazing) I also made squash cakes. They're like potato cakes only um, with no potatoes. I cooked a spaghetti squash, mixed in a third cup of flour, 4tbsp Earth Balance, a half cup of Veggie cheese and a healthy dose of pepper.



I think I could have gotten away with less oil because of the fats on the inside (maybe just cooking spray or olive oil in my Misto). Likewise, I think I could have cut the Earth Balance a wee bit, although damn... it was good. Additionally, I think a plant based diet can get a bit lean on the fats if you're not careful. Finally, the smaller you make these, the better. a quarter of a cup is pretty good.

These were got yummier, the more I thought about it. I like them for dinner better than breakfast, I think. Next time I'd like to add a pinch of chili flakes. But a great and inexpensive way to get in some yellow veggies. I've got some good left overs, but am going to reheat them in the oven because the 'crisp' value is important.

Today I've got a black bean soup I'm itching to make and some pinto bean veggie burgers I want to cook ahead. Wish me luck that my new processor doesn't outsmart me.

Yawn

So. New Year's Eve post. This could tell you a lot about me I suppose. Its 8:41 on New Year's Eve and the only reason that I'm not in bed is because I have a pot of pinto beans on the stove so that I can make veggie burgers tomorrow.
You could conclude that I am lame and don't have plans. But even in my wild, 'you let me study till 11:00 then I'll clean up and meet you at the club' doctoral days that often enough that it didn't make for a legendary night wound up with someone in my group getting kicked out by the cops and once a senior in a leather thong and hard hat with suspenders I didn't usually go out New Year's Eve. Its one of my issues that could go a couple of posts lower. I don't like organized holidays. I don't like to go to church the few days that most people do haul their goods out of bed (Easter, Christmas, Mother's Day), and I don't like traditional reasons to party.
And no lie these days I don't party a lot. In a way its odd. I love to get cleaned up for the evening. Decide what part of me I am going to be. City-fied girl with some class in a high end blouse or sweater? Tattooed hood rat's girl with smokey eyes that are too overly made up (let's not kid ourselves people... I like make up). More often than not, tattooed hood wins out. I'm good at it and it works well in the dives I frequent. I don't think I'm too old and I love to dance. But given my friends, our spots, and our fun... these night often end with some bullshit. And I've worked pretty hard to weed that out.
In all honesty what keeps me in bed these days is a ridiculous work schedule, my efforts to eat a mostly plant based-whole food-unprocessed diet, and the fact that about 3 days a week I am up at 4:40 am to go Crossfit. I can lead this simple life, or shake my tail feathers.

And what Dr. Err does this have do to with any-damn-thing? Be real, Err... we all know you're just trying to kill time while your pinto beans cook....

I suppose it brings me to my end of year post. The highlights include a long, long walk down the beach on a stormy day with two black dogs who don't like each other and two girls who love each other and each other's black dogs. Deciding that Ben Franklin is maybe evil and eating a whole day's meals in bed in a fancy hotel room. Finding a yoga studio that is not fun, but healing for my body. Finding a Kraw Maga (Israeli street fighting) studio that also offers Crossfit classes which are good for my mind and my soul. 2 days holed up with my little furry family complete with one nap squeezed between 2 big dogs and a boy on a little double bed.
There was a flat ousting of me from a group I previously was right in the middle of. It was a weird, weird thing, but its ok and very likely good for all. There some horribleness. For me and for some folks I love enough that I swear I can feel a piece of their pain. But I am thankful everyday for my horribleness because I get through it and my people are getting through it. And we're getting through it together. And not everyone is that fortunate. Some people break and they break alone. Me and my people... we are some bendy mothers.
I look forward to 2010 more and more knowing that who I am is complicated and ok. I am more and more going off the whole food deep end. However I maintain that until I decide to go vegan and RAW.... that I'm coolio (except my beans just boiled way the hell over). I am looking forward to what I can learn about food and eating and health this year. I'm also looking forward to what seems to be an ever shrinking food bill (even with the amount of organic food we eat). I think my work schedule is freeing up just a wiggle. Enough that I'll be busy working and playing (playing for me is yoga, running, Crossfit and Krav (my favorite way to kick off a Saturday) with a peppering of Sunday hikes. Which will feel like working hard to play hard. Something I am totally ok with.
I struggle with balance sometimes. Work and play. Being a homebody and going out. Trying to do everything at once. Wanting to volunteer (like at Habitat) and feeling like I have to work all the days. This year I would like to achieve a better sense of balance. More time with friends. More quality time at home. I feel like I need to be more organized but at the same time, I think sometimes I am overly scheduled. I need more balance. I'm pretty good at tree and standing pigeon. You'd think I could work this out.
Perhaps at the equinox?

My job

I love my job. Really.
Sometimes it is difficult. Students who I love in jail, on house arrest, expelled. Students who've been locked up for assult and trafficing who walk past me daily giving me the head bounce, "s'up docta err" or patting me on the shoulder, 'how you doin' docta err' or 'mama, if it wasn't for you... I wouldn't even be here."
Good stuff. Hard sometimes, but good.
The thing about my students and I is we are the same. They sing to me almost every day. We know the same music. We crack the same jokes. Even on difficult days, I laugh (like put my head on my desk and laugh) every day.

You should hear the convos we have:

J: (loudly in a voice that would normally get him kicked out of another room) OH MY JESUS!
me: (pointing to self) naw, baby.... Dr. Err...
J: OH MY DOCTA ERR!

*************
students attempting to riff on someone who is arguing with someone else.
J: You're beefin'
J: You're beefin like...like... a cow!
J: You're beefin like...a steak!
Me: (passin out papers) Baby. Get it right. They beefin like Burger King.
J: AHHHHH!!!! MAMA!!!!!!

**************

D: (making a fist and grinning from ear to ear) Ma, you don't know. Some day you might just drive me over the edge. I might just snap and have to lay a beat down.
me: yeah. and when you do, baby, I'll get you a step stool so you can reach me.
D: disolves into laughter. that's a good one, Mama

************************************

I also had a week where one student wanted to be the first African American do things. Things like give the answer to a question, write on my board, leave the class.

**********************
Err: So folks, one of the things that the colonist bogarted from the Native Americans was corn. And that was a big deal, not only to keep them alive, but when they started to export corn products. Shoot, just corn bread was worth the price of admission.
kid: I don't like corn bread
C: Dude. You ain't black if you don't like cornbread.
Err: Really, C? Thats what decides it? Really?
C: Yeah. You know it is!
******************************

Issues

I've been waiting until after the holiday season to write. I can honestly say that the last two months I have been working too hard. Though I haven't really said it, because in this time we live in...the last thing I am going to complain about is too much work. I'm thankful for the work. I'm thankful every time I sit down to do something for the university that employs me that I have the opportunity to work there. It is the university where I spent nine years (sophomore year of undergrad through doctoral program). You're not supposed to do grad work where you do undergrad. Its academic inbreeding. You're not even supposed to be able to get into these programs. You sure as shit aren't supposed to work where you did doctoral studies (unless you've gone some where else for an extended time). More academic inbreeding. While we're at it... you also not supposed to leave the university and still finish or teach 8th grade with a PhD. Eh. I sort of hate being told I can't do something.

Its one of those Dr. Err things.

I have a lot of things. Not material things. Just...well quite frankly... mental issues.

Every now and again, someone will say something to me that sticks like one of those cartoon arrows with the plunger thingy where the arrow stabby thing should be. It doesn't happen a lot, but when it does I never forget those words.

Once in a time of despair over school bullshit a dear tattooed hood friend of mine with a GED (who still doesn't have the slightest idea what I was doing in school, but happily tells his clients while he's tattooing either me or them that I am, "a professor and shit") told me that he thought I'd be ok because we were a lot a like and, "people like you and me....we do ok." Another time another good friend told me, "you know who you are." Both times, time seemed to stand still and the air seemed to bet sucked out the area for just a second. I knew I was hearing something profound.

This happened again, while (not) lost (0nly late) in Philadelphia in a car with a chosen sister. We see each other about once a year for a couple of days. Sometimes its just the two of us, sometimes we bring family, sometimes (magical times) we are lucky enough to have the other sister with us, sometimes other friends join us for an afternoon or an evening at a local dive bar. Really, it doesn't matter. We pick up right where we left off (or really, where we started....we were sisters from the start) and its a magic time.

This visit, I'd made some comment about some oddball feeling or behavior of mine being 'my shit and I recognize it and work around it.'

She said some other things but what hit me like the cartoon arrow was, 'you're one of the most self aware people I know.'

I took it as a huge compliment. And also, maybe a bit of a challenge.

So here is my David Letterman style list of issues that I have.

I hate being told what to do. I hate being mothered. My own mother doesn't mother me in a traditional sense. Women who have a lot of kids and a lot of teachers seem to forget that they aren't the mom/teacher of everyone. I have a lot of trouble with people like this. This is closely related to the I hate being told I can't do something that I mentioned above. My response is almost always 'why not' and the effort I will expend to prove that I can too can and has almost killed me. Along the same lines, I take an almost perverse pleasure in knowing that as far as my education/occupation goes...I am doing every.damn.thing. that they said I couldn't. If you could turn IN YO FACE into a feeling...its like that.

My shit around race and culture and class is complicated. And often it makes it really, really, really hard to be me. And sometimes, I'd just like someone to be like, "damn... that's tough" instead of "but you look...."

I have anger issues. I work on them every.day. I am low class, ghetto, or crazy (I'm not sure which or if its really all) to knock someone the fuck out. Much of my exercise regime is to help channel this into good places.

I have o'haulic tendencies. Everything I do I tend to do to death. I also try to channel this into good and productive places instead of into booze and drugs and cheap hooker men. You can read this as I have a family history of bipolar/manic depression etc. I try really, really hard to make sure I don't go off the deep end.

Feet flip me the fuck out. Gah. I'd rather not even touch my own. Please don't touch mine...but especially...don't touch your feet on me. The Boy will occasionally touch his feet on me in the middle of the night and it wakes me up.

I need an invite. Don't ever just expect that I know to show up, or that I know I'm invited because I've come every other year. I come from a family where you just up and get uninvited. I married into a family where I am not wanted. I need an invite. Otherwise I won't come. I sure as shit am not going to check in with you like I'm begging to come. If I don't get invited and I normally do (or think I should) that shit will hurt me to the core. I won't get over it for a long damn time.

My uncles used to flick the kids in my family until they'd cry (I mean like really hard). And then they'd tease you until you cried more. No lie, they never did this to me. Everyone knew that my father was not someone to be screwed with. Looking back, they were all just a little scared of him (which if you know about my uncles... tells you A LOT about my dad). Flicking upsets me. Weird I know. This was clearly not the worst thing I've ever seen. No where near...but it makes my chest tight. I also used to watch my mom's dad call their dog over to him and then knock the shit out of him. Pet, pet, pet, SMACK. I wasn't raised this way. My dad taught me from the time I could use my hands to pet, how to be gentle with a dog. How to make a scared animal feel better. Where they like to be scratched. How to know what dogs were doing so that I wouldn't be scared. It must have worked as I picked two of the scariest looking dogs in the shelter (according to visitors). I makes me feel scared and tight inside to see someone wrestle with a dog or give them a good playful swat on the rump. Logically, I know its ok. In my heart, it makes me want to get in the middle of it.

I like boys to be edged up and clean shaven.

I don't trust other people (except my dad) to drive me.

I almost never cry. Its a hood thing. But when I do... its silly and dramatic and embarrassing. When my friend VJ died, I cried until my eyes were swollen almost shut and I made myself sick. I am tough about my students hardships almost all the time. In jail, in a gang, blah, blah, blah. I'm tough. I give them what I can. But when one lost his dad last year, I went into my class, put my head on the desk and cried. There is a lady who comes in my mom's shop that has something similar to Parkinson's. She can't control her body. Its bad. Her arms fail from side to side and her husband is always scared to death she's going to break something. He came in the other day by himself and said, "I wish you could have known her before she got sick. You don't know how good it makes her feel that you folks talk to her. So many people ignore her." I got all indignant when my mom told me this. Well of course we talk to her!!! Shit! She's still a person. She ain't a crackhead... Her body isn't minding her anymore.... (and here is where out of nowhere my anger turned into tears I couldn't stop for a lady who's name I don't even know) Shit, ma... how bad would it be to have your body just do its own thing...

So. I don't watch movies that touch my heart. I don't read books like that. Please don't ask me to. I won't do it.

I have a lot of other issues. I work hard to make sure that my enjoyment of things stacked and lined up in my pantry and fridge is something I enjoy...not something I need. I think things happen for a reason and I get a little weird and wrapped up in that. JC don'tcha think its weird you got another teacher who doesn't fit in, teaches at the university and names her dogs after real people in your life? I am flashy and ghetto when I get cleaned up. When I don't... I really don't.

I always try to do the right thing and sometimes it pisses me off. I think I am a fighter because my mom isn't. When someone who scares me comes into the shop, I have a knife that I take with me. I am scared to death of someone 'getting me.' Dying doesn't scare me in the least. I am overly aware that the earth can kick my ass. I love the woods. I love WV. I'm scared in the South. And somehow this all makes sense to me. I have had to work to be able to wear dark jeans and not be weirded out by it. I am unreasonable about how soft things need to be if they touch my skin. I think blogs are narcissistic, but I love them. I like to do factory work and I time myself. I count everything. Some people can tease me. Other people can't. I don't think twice about most things. The stuff that I get hung up on, I don't think I can ever let go. Do. Not. push me if you don't want me to push back. You won't win. I can't lie/cover my feelings to save my soul. I wish I could just a little. It makes life hard on people I love sometimes. But I think its one of the things they love about me.

I know what my issues are. Some of my issues I work on every.day. Others I am comfortable with and actually enjoy. I said once on an on-line forum that I am 'hard to handle.' Its true. Its not always easy to be my friend. Its often hard to be me. But I take comfort in that for whatever I am... everyday you get the best me I can be.