Nananananananana

Today is my birthday. Nananananananana. Gonna have a good time. Yes, today is my birthday and I'm guessing there arn't alot of you out there who actually read this and that's just fine because it's for me anyway, so that is why today, in this blog, I want to say one thing to myself . . .by the time I'm 50, I would like to have something that isn't a blog. Something that is more substantial than a blog. Screenplay, novel, book of poems. I don't care. But it must be something. So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOANNA. God, you look great for your age. Congratulations for maintaining a positive attitude all these years and sticking to your guns. I have a new mantra in life. If you hate your job, be happy you have a job. If you hate your belly, be happy you have food to eat. If you are frustrated with your house, be happy you have a house. Life is good, you have the option to change if if you don't like it. You get the picture. O.K. going to do yoga. Just wanted to put the dream on paper, on internet space. Etc.

Yoga, Halloween and Barack Obama

Someday . . .I will blog on my yoga blog, yogadenada. I started it, oh so long ago, and I've only written one entry. The words are swirling around in my head, desperate to get out, finally, they've worn down and found a dark corner to hide in, waiting patiently and speaking up when necessary. No surprise here that I believe that yoga is the number one best exercise ever. There are many styles of yoga, from the sedate, slow-moving Iyengar, to the more aerobic, strength-building hatha flow. I have never practiced Ashtanga, but I get the idea it's an ass-kicker. I am terrified. Nonetheless, yoga is not just about the body, it brings mind, body and spirituality together as one. If you can make yoga a regular practice in your life you will be flexible, strong, mentally healthy and feel a sense of oneness with those around you and the universe. And, if you like the idea of being happy and healthy well into your 90's and 100's, then I say, go out and buy a yoga mat today, sign-up for a few classes and get yogaing. It partners all activities well. O.K. now I'm going to collect my check from the Yoga Foundation.

Halloween! I love Halloween. Ours was fast and furious. Jake was Speed Racer and I was a super-hero that looked more like Billy Jean King gone Glam. I wasn't hot. Leading up to Halloween we hit a pumpkin patch, pics attached by Jake and myself. As in, Jake took the pictures, except for the crazy ones he is the subject of. We did pumpkin painting, pumpkin carving, caramel apples and then wrapped it up with trick or treating. My job is done. Moving on to Birthday (mine), Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's (um, bloody mary's in the backyard). I fucking love the Holidays. I'm not being a smartass. And for once in a long while, I think I'm feeling o.k. and mentally healthy for a change. Big question of the New Year, is Joanna dumb enough to get pregnant one more time? Yes, No, only time will tell. Back to Halloween. Jake was coming down with a cold and pooped out early. I had to take his heavy load of candy. The wierd thing was, he never ate it, didn't ask about it. Joel and I polished it off in two days. Wierd, very wierd, very, very wierd. He's into gum these days. Oops, he just asked about it. I guess I'm running to the store for some candy now.

If you haven't heard about Barack Obama, which I'm sure you have, check him out at the title link to this blog. He offers hope in the face of our nation's problems. Not that a Republican in the office is a problem (ahem), but a dumb-ass republican puppet who is an embarrassment to our country and misrepresents the people, continuouly making press blunders, is just the little whipped flowers on top of the icing on the cake. He's a small problem. A front man. We don't know who the big problem is because we arn't really sure just who's in charge. Barack Obama is (shhhhhh, don't tell anyone) ... Black. Can America diversify? Is America ready for diversity at that level? It would be new and refreshing to have a woman as president and it's unbelievable that a female president is even an issue, though probably not a great idea . . .we are a bit emotional . . ."I'm so pissed at China, they didn't compliment my nice red dress I bought especially for the meeting we had last night, bomb them damnit." I keep thinking Hillary's real reason to get into the presidential office is some evil revenge on Bill that the whole country is going to be forced to witness. Anyone other than a big, white goon in the office at this point would be great. What makes us think that being caucasian makes someone smarter or better informed at making decisions about America. Obama's belief and efforts are in-line with a more progressive way of running our country. He tackles issues of political corruption and his efforts are devoted to breaking this nation's horrible addiction to oil. His campaign title "The Audacity of Hope, Reclaiming the American Dream" is awesome. He's a visionary, and maybe a bit of an idealist, and we all know the country is ripe for a change in direction. Will he run for president? I don't know enough. I'm still trying to figure out who he is. He's young and I'm excited about the whole idea. When I was digging around looking at press on him I found this hilarious t-shirt site. If I didn't think I'd get punched by some asshole right-winger, I'd definitely wear "F*ck Republicans" with the donkey humping the elephant. Too fun. Or the retro-looking "I miss Bill" t-shirt, I have to buy that one. Enjoy our kooky spooky pumpkin pics. Jake and I had a blast taking photos. The last one's a finger. Verrrrrry artsy. I'm sure he meant to do it.

Whirling Words about the World

My latest addiction is Itunes Radio. I know everyone does it and I've done it forever but my awesome iMac, that doesn't serve much of a purpose other than feeding music at my workstation, sends ethereal ambient tunes from Drone Zone on SomaFM, served best chilled, safe with most medications. Since recently I've been spending a lot of time thinking about the mediocrity of the human race in comparison to the cosmos, it seems best to have a soundtrack reminiscent of space. The music actually has a vibration that resonates through my brain and compels a certain meditation. For those who don't know, my son Jake attends a religious school, the JCC-ECP, the Jewish Community Center-Early Childhood Program. It's awesome. It's a really wonderful school and though I am not religious AT ALL, I have no problem with their very beautiful education about God. If I have to align with a religion, I'll take God's chosen. Nonetheless, this is not a diatribe about religion, what I am embarking on here is that my son comes home with many questions and statements about God. "Why does god make the clouds?" was one. I skirted that one with "Do you think God is a man or a woman?". "Woman", my gorgeous, intelligent young son said. Good Boy. You see, I ain't raising no dummy. I also don't spend a lot of time skirting issues by the way. If he asks me about God, I quickly explain that some people believe that God created the world, but Science very clearly explains away (atleast to me) any chances of some ethereal sort creating the world in 7 days. I mean come on. It's pretty obvious that our ancestors are little hairy types and maybe even a few fishies. As a matter of fact, not to be insulting, but I would say that we are really more of a product of de-evolution as opposed to evolution. Once upon a time, there was a planet void of toxins, trash and war. Are we really anything more than a dirty little vermin, slowly killing off this planet like a nasty disease that no antibiotic can kill. All the other planets are pointing and laughing at Earth. Poor guy. He's got those nasty humans and he can't shake them no matter how many earthquakes, monsoons, hurricanes, etc. So sorry. I just had to get that off my chest. I think my mind wanders too much and sometimes, well, we as people just take our lives so seriously that we stop living it. We are so busy working to buy better cloths, houses, cars, jewelry, groceries, upgrading, not re-using, not recycling, not re-planting. Our world is a consumer world and we can't stop churning out more shit, way more than we are extinguishing, wouldn't you say? We are so consumed with the next buy, even me, I'm not placing myself outside of this guilt. I just can't get over consumption. Target, Wal-Mart, Sears, Home Depot. Is this product or trash? I know I rattle on all the time about this, but what are you and me and everyone else doing to make this a better world? A healthier planet? Life has to move outside our inner circle. We have to look at the bigger picture. I get an opportunity to meditate almost daily at the end of my yoga sessions. Recently, in the last year, I've started looking forward to these times and deeply appreciating the moment, I get excited. I used to think it was such a waste of time. Laying there, flat on my back, I sink into the earth and my mind opens to a broad space. I begin to have a sensation of lifting above the earth and being a part of everything. At that point my thoughts become so large (that's the word) that I can't herd them into any one place. I just grasp a greater sense of being and feel both very small yet connected to everything. Mind you, this is not a religious moment, it's a sensation that we are individually very small, but as a race we are great and can do huge things. As a population we can change direction. We can all meditate, for a brief time everyday and float into a bigger space and realize that we are both great and small in our minds. But if we put our minds together we can change the direction of a huge motion of negative energy and swooping wide, we can change the tide. Wanna try?

Real Parenting

O.K., it's 10:10pm and the hub is in the bedroom reading stories to Jake, not Jake's bedroom, our bedroom. It's all the same around here. Jake is drinking milk from a sippy cup and odds are he won't brush his teeth afterwards. Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't. We didn't eat supper until 8:30pm. Jake sat ON the table, not at the table. Me, Joel and Neighbor sat on the couch. We each had some form of alcohol, beer or wine. We watched Southpark.
Jake goes to school at 8:30am, atleast that's the idea. This morning he woke up at 8:15am. He really didn't want to wake up, but I sang a little ditty and blew mouthfarts on him, making rhyming tunes to words like fart and poop. I know it's bad, but hey, it makes him laugh and I laugh too. I managed to get him dressed, teeth brushed and hair hand-combed and out the door by 8:30am. Not sure how, it was a bit like being a drill sergeant. Did he eat breakfast? No! Damnit. Oh, I said "Damnit", I'm sure. "Oh shit!" is a big favorite too. "Oh Shit, I forgot your shoes." "Damnit Izzy, get out of the trash." You know, shit like that. I dropped him off at school, kisses and hugs and kisses and hugs and lots of "I love You". Life is good. I worked my fucking ass off all day but that's another story. I come skating up to the school at 2:40pm, 2:45pm is the last minute pick-up. Racing into the school, I clip a parent with dawdling kiddos, trying to make it before it is embarrassingly late. I waltz in to a wonderful closing of Jake playing outside with his classmates, "Mom, I don't want to leave yet." I breath a sigh of relaxation. "O.K.", I say. We hang out, then dawdle down to the Frog room. We hang out there too long because we simply love Jaqlyn too much, oh if only I could spell her name right. I am shamed by her wonderfully natural way of observation. As she reads over his class report, she asks Jake "What did you say you were sorry to God for Jake?", "I said I was sorry for talking so loud in class," said Jake. Ouch. Why didn't I ask that question. Moving on. We dallied there for awhile then ran off to finish my work day at TACODELIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!! In the car I asked Jake what Dad and I should say we are sorry for to God. I won't get into it too much, but let me just say that it turns out that Jake isn't missing alot around here, as in, he does know exactly what we should feel bad about. O.K. now we know Jake's an observant little booger. We went to Tacodeli where I promptly gave him a chocolate chip cookie and lemonade so that he would let me finish up work. We got home and he did awesome artwork and colored and watched T.V. while I worked even a bit more. Then, YEAH!, we went to the park where he played with Zoe and dreamed of playing soccer and being in kindergarten. When we got home he asked me if boys took ballet. "Why yes," I said, with great delight I might add (Joel's eyes were rolling). I ran to get my New York Ballet workout tape to show him just such types of fellows. He lost interest immediately. Jake just got out of bed and asked to brush his teeth and pee. Then he crawled back into bed with Dad. I'm gonna go take a shower and crawl in next to him. Fuck you Parenting Magazine. We co-sleep, we single sleep, Jake sleeps in his own bed and our bed and sometimes I sleep in his bed alone. I say fart and poop and there is no fucking way that ignoring it is going to make him stop saying it. This kid is way too smart for that. He's already signed his forms for class clown of 3rd grade. Dad's been priming him since birth. This is a real day in the real life of a parent of a 4-year-old. I wish we could be better. We did get broccoli and salad in him for dinner. I'm feeling good about that one. I just can't take the pressure of proper parenting anymore. We are animals, we breed, we raise our brood. I can't keep up with the many new fangled ways of raising kids. Americans who raise thier children by the book, end up with cows. Sure, they travel in herds, but you can't tell one from the other. I'll take my crazy zebra-striped Hyena anyday. He's one of a kind.

Swim like you think yer dyin'!

Can you stop time? Have you ever wanted to? How about for one or two hours a day you just shut the world off and forget that your job sucks, you can't pay your bills, your house is dirty, your ass is too big, whatever. I've got the secret . . . It's called swimming. You know, you've heard of it, right? You did it when you were a kid. No dumbass, not that shit where you put on goggles and a cap and ear plugs and drudge along back in forth in those boring fucking lanes, counting strokes and getting that silly exercise stuff. I'm talking about good old heart-thumpin', chlorine-stinkin', swim-suit losin' swimming. Jumping in with yer knees up to your chest, back-slapping, ass-kicking fun. Actually, I'm not much for jumping, but the other day Jake and I put on our goggles and started exploring the deep end of our neighborhood Brentwood Park pool. Since then, nary a day goes by that we don't make it there for a quick underwater expedition. I have found that for a couple of hours a day I actually forget that I'm miserable in my life, unable to decipher a single bit of it. For a little while, I'm Joanna, the 8-year-old, swimming underwater, blowing bubbles up to the top and sitting on the bottom of the pool. I can remember showing up at the pool at opening time in Tulia, Texas. I'd ride my blue 10-speed the four or five miles to the pool and stay till closing, everyday, all summer long. Flirting with the cute life-guards and eating lunch at the snack bar, I was a brown bean, just like The Jakey now. Who new about skin cancer? I'm sucking at that whole concept even now. I don't think I even wore sunscreen back then. These last few days of Jake's summer I'm showing him the way of the underwater world. Everything beats slower down there, everyone flows. I'm creating this concept of underwater yoga. It's beautiful. So, if you haven't made it out to the pools yet, I think you have one more month. Pull out that moldy old swimsuit, slather on some 50 spf, and get some Vitamin D. The sun isn't all that evil. You'll find us there, looking like racoons in our goggles, popping up for air. Hit the title for a link and find a free pool near you.

The Evolution is Upon Us!!

I would not be so bold to say that I know much about anything. In fact, that is exactly my problem and why I am, and have been, stuck in such a long, on-going rut for so long, long, fucking long. From the time I was 17, I have begged and pleaded for anyone to help me make a decision as to what I should do with my life and with boring dismay, I must confess, I have still not discovered it. But nonetheless, here I am to annoy all of you with my ill-educated ramblings on whatever happens to cross my mind in those sketchy early-morning hours when it's too early to get up but just close enough to that time that I can't go back to sleep. First, I should tell you that I have become highly addicted to chocolate covered peanuts. I consider them to be an anti-depressant. I'm trying not to drink so much and they have become an awesome substitute. Watering plants is a good anti-depressant too. I think if you see a beautiful garden, you can bet that person is working through some shit. Anyway, for those of you who arn't up-to-date on my life, here's the low-down. I lost my best dog Red, old news, but losses like that don't just go away. Hell, I'm still mourning my grandma Beulah and that was 4 years ago. A drop in the time bucket. I try to call her everyday. And I listen for Red's shuffle every morning. Joel and I gave the preggers concept one big fat fucking final try and to no avail, the Gods slapped our hands and reminded us that, in our case, one is enough. Fine, I'll look the other way at all those who get to have 2, 3, 4, 10. Getting on with my life with liposuction, running, yoga and such. I've been scanning the news these days and I'm scared. My recent National Geographic talked about hurricanes, CNN talks about heat waves in California, fighting in Israel and Lebanon, and goddamn it's hot. When I read these reports, I see very little mention of what might have caused the environmental concerns. It's just something we must persevere. I can't help but wonder if there is something that we can be doing. I know, we are recycling and riding our bikes and cleaning with non-toxics. I've got my borax, Dr. Bronner's and vinegar and my compost pile to decrease the landfills. I try to only purchase thrift. No new shit for me, thank you. I recycle clothing, damnit. The deal is . . .it's not just about what we are doing but how we are thinking. We have to shift gears. We have to acknowledge, that we humans, are the most destructive thing to ever happen to Earth. And Bush is quite possibly the devil. We procreate and we don't think about what it will be like for our children, hell, what it will be like for us. I fear for the day that we live in plastic bubbles, removed from the contaminated planet we call Earth. Bladerunner. 12 Monkeys. Sci-Fi isn't really fiction, it's prophetic. Atleast that's how I see it, and that's all that counts on this blog, right. I have always believed that practicing yoga (really practicing it), not just as an exercise, but a way of believing, thinking . . . might help evolutionize us, grow our brains bigger, expand our souls and ways of thinking. No more destruction towards ourselves, each other or the planet. It's hard not to think it's too late. Like I said, I don't know much about anything at all and I certainly haven't spent much time with the bible or history. Not enough to know whether what is going on right now is prophetic in anyway. But, what I see, is reason for concern. I see pollution, war, destruction and hatred. It concerns me. It scares the shit out of me. I wonder what life will be like in 20 years. I wonder if we will look back on 2.75 a gallon gas and say "Can you believe it got that high?", or "Wow, those were the good old days!", or "What was gasoline anyway?". I wonder if we won't have a choice as to whether our sons and daughters will fight in a war. That's what really makes my heart skip a beat, feeling the rush of blood as it catches up with itself. I have to admit, sometimes I think. . . it's too late. There is no changing this blood ugly course we've got ourselves on. Then, I go and pop YogaShakti in the DVD player and do a long yoga session, throw some coins for the I Ching and think . . .today I'll try to evolutionize, just a little bit.
And now, give this a think . . .if you arn't part of this evolution, then you might just be part of the problem. What can you do about it?

Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends

Look, if you haven't seen this show then you are an unforgivable turd who lives life boring the shit out of everyone around you. First, the animation is delightful and addictive. As soon as the theme song starts, you should immediately start dancing. That's the only way to do it. I'm not saying this is educational tv, but it's better than being put through a series of learning programs on Noggin (which I love by the way, but can only stomach so much of) and not as bad as letting him watch . . the Simpsons, the Oblongs or Family Guy. It's clean, it's funny, it's adorable, it'a entertaining. Check it out on Cartoon Network. I sit down and watch it everytime it's on for a little lighthearted pick-me-up. I'm trying to do this crazy new thing called "Live Today". Try not to think about yesterday too much and avoid thinking about tomorrow a whole heck of alot as well. Seriously, thinking about something that hasn't happened is a total waste of time. Today is Today and in the exact moment when it happens, it's the only chance you will get to experience it. So, at the risk of sounding wholly cliche, stop and smell the bluebonnets, reach in and feel the texture of a plant's leaf, listen to the crickets and frogs and birds in your yard. On a cool summer evening, go outside and plop your ass down in a chair and stare at the sky, touch the fireflies and have a goofy conversation with your 4-year-old, or husband, or wife, or sister, or mom, or dog, or cat about what it would be like to ride a shadow, or whether you've ever seen a ghost, or what would happened if it rained lollipops. Last night, Jake and I sat outside in chairs facing each other with our legs wrapped up singing "Cowgirls, Cowboys won't you come out tonight, come out tonight, come out tonight, etc." Jake made up verses and we talked about the shadows. Our shadows have become our new friends who often play with us in the mornings. I have spent so much of my life worrying about the past and fretting about the future and it's this little fella I grew from a very small seed that has finally made me realize that it's this very moment that counts the most. And with that said, I'm going to make the most of this one and go do yoga to start the day.

Playdough

O.K. so I tried to start a new blog but I realized that it was stupid so here is the one post that was at that blog. I also linked to a really cute site where you can learn how to do other cool things with your kid, wife, cousin, niece, nephew, dog, alone, whatever. Hit the title of this entry. I've been doing a little baking so I might give you a bit of a how-to on that next time and I might even do a little starter (sourdough, that is). Yeah, call me Marta Hewlert or something. Sorry for the icky pics but to be honest, playdough isn't pretty to get to, just fun to play with, smell, taste and eat and . . . I'll stop there.
PLAYDOUGH, PLAYDOH, PLATO, ETC.
2 cups of flour
1 cup of salt
1 teaspoon of food coloring (always use more).
2 tablespoons of oil
2 cups of water
1 teaspoon of cream of tartar.
Cook it in a saucepan over a medium heat and you will get a soft, lovely, pliable playdough that is not only fun to play with, but yummy to eat. No silly, don't eat it. Make the alphabet with it. We always make tons of it because it lasts forever. Try not to get too stressed. It's messy and it should be. We forget how to be friends with our kids, so busy to make sure they are good little humans that arn't offending anyone. Just remember, who they are now is only a fraction of who they will become and what you do now will determine every bit of what they will become. Think about it. They get in our way and slow our day down. Oh, if only I could have a cup of coffee in solitude. Solitude will come your way. It's called "old age" and who you are now will determine who is by your side in 40 years. I would love to have Jake come by and visit me in my garden when I'm 80. What would you like?

My Red.

I dedicate this blog to the best little girl that ever came into my life. I just hope that someday I see her spirit running through the mist of the Shoal Creek dog park. I would love to see that smile just one more time. Baby girl, I love you. And Papa and Jake and Gus do to.

My Little Girl

On Saturday, April 15th, my sweet girl Red died. I was gone out of town and she died here at the house with Gus. She was the world to us, the glue in the family factory. There is a hollow place in our world now. We loved you Little Red Dog.

Oh sew Quickly...

I have no time to post. My life is a mess. Oh Calgon, take me away. So, when you drink too much Vodka it makes your brain dry up. Ouch. Come on brain, relax. Oooh. Jake is screaming. I am so excited because I have signed up for a beginners sewing class at First Samples and am going to pushstart my dream of being a DIY clothing designer. Woohoo. If you are interested you can click on the title to this entry and it will send you to thier sight. I read about it in the crappy Austin American Statesman (don't get me started on our great newspaper) and decided to muster up the $120 bucks to do it. I don't see why it seems like I never have time to do anything for myself unless I wake up at 5am, an then it's only yoga, but I'm happy about that. I just need time to sew. I also picked up a book about making clothes out of t-shirts, 108 ways to redesign a t-shirt. You can even make a bikini, as if, I'm packing this chunky belly into any bikini, oh god, give me back my skinny body, pleeeeezzzeeee. My Jake is filled with so many words. He's currently telling me how he spits on monsters and chases them up trees. I love the little fellow, he calls his burps "amaaaazing". I had him say his prayers today from school. It's so cute. I'm not religious but there is something about hearing your child say a prayer he has memorized and talking about God. It's a part of him that comes from somewhere else and has no connection to me. I feel like, in this space, he can teach me something. O.K. just wanted to spit out some words. Must get ready for soccer practice. Check out the slowly evolving link list. I have tons more, just give me time.

Would you be Interested?

I also write poetry and would love to share some with you as I start to get a creative urge. I haven't downloaded all of them onto my blog but here is one and there is a sampler at joannafried.blogspot. Just hit the title entry.


Mama

Streaming tears
melting
hearts foot soldiers
stand-by
Carry, carrying
to carry
I drive forward
unrelenting tears
silkening downward
ever scolding,
a stance
set forth by others
trying tears
plying, flailing, failing
again upright
mine
beats now,
mine
cries now
flying tears
with force and intention,
I melt to tender touches,
hearing
Mama,
Mama,
Mama


Also . . .here are some mamaku's that DID NOT get published at austinmama.com. oh well.

mom mommymommy
mama mama mommy mom
mom mommy mama

mom, play trains with me
just one minute, just one sec
mama play trains, please


Here's another:

Lost.
win a new set of emotions
experiences turn
over memories
relied up
on
expect a hand slung back
searching
a soft curve of
a neck, fitting snuggly
a sweet smell
in a tendril tasted
sleep
a heart cracks
the thought
a smooth clean feel
crossing lips
read deep my heart
can’t think
dreamt lost, signs
telling
at each bay
bliss missed
preciously
arrives late


Anyway, I only have a little time to post and poems are rambling through my head. If I died tomorrow, they would be what marked my life, filled with harsh reproaches towards my loves, and gentle caresses to my son.

A Lovely Day

It's a beautiful spring day and Jake and I just took off for a walk around the neighborhood checking out houses and looking for garage sales. No luck. I pulled him in his red wagon and got a nice little workout and he finally decided that a nap would be good. When we came home, I lifted him out of the trailer and carried him inside, his 42 lbs. wrapped around me, he lifted his head just enough to give me a kiss on the neck. We wonder why we got into this parenting thing, but for moments like these. I carried him into his room and we fell on his bed hugging each other. Both of us dozed off and now the house is quiet with both boys crashed in each room (Dad and the Jakester). I am hoping to take this time to squeeze in an hour of yoga, as I was too exhausted to try this morning after a late night at Shannon's Art Opening. Can I just keep linking to her site since she has the most wonderful pieces that hint at "springacoming" and often symbolize the love for children both here and there. She's really accomplished something cool with her art. Oh Shannon, if you ever bother to read this, put your artist's statement in your website. It's cool. Speaking of art, I pryed Jake away from the TV for awhile the other night and we did felt replications of ourselves. I've decided to start torturing you with bad art pieces that might actually get good over time, so that's what you see here. I'll take any art project these days and am hoping to try and take a class at Laguna Gloria soon. I figure one type of art might lead to another, you never know. Laguna Gloria offers so many great art classes ranging from painting, to computers and even a little metalsmithing and jewelry making, and textiles. I could live there. I am the most artistic unartist I know, or is it unartistic artist. Hmm. I'm reading Love and Logic, a guide on parenting. From what I can surmise over the 1st chapter, it's mostly about offering options and being sympathetic to the demise your child has gotten themselves into. I really enjoy it. "Oh, I'm sorry you have to go to your room because you are talking back to me, maybe next time you won't talk back and then you can stay here and play." This works for me . . .it' so much better than, "Goddammit, I told you to stop fucking talking back to me, get the hell out of my face." Not that I would talk like that, but I swear the thought has gone through my head a couple of times. I did not know that a 4-year-old could be a smartass, but apparently, when it's my son, yes, a 4-year-old can be a smartass. Oh well. You can check it out by clicking the link on my title entry. Meanwhile, it's almost 4pm and I'm gonna try to jam out some Kundalini, clean the house and maybe sew today. Everyday, I try to sew today. What do you try to do every day, but never do? How about you go out and grab some sunshine and remember that the only thing that is standing in your way of today, is you. Make some art, do some yoga, smell the fresh air and kiss your kiddos, pooches, cats, hamsters, birds or wife. Just go give some love.

Yes!!

I figured out the links. Maybe I will get this HTML shit.

Seeds to Sew

It's been a good day. I think I'm getting the hang of this work thing, no help from my liberated sista's. I'll get it, just in time for Jake to head off to school. Who knows what I'll do if another one comes along. A while back I mentioned Hip Home Ec. It's a groovy site and book where you can learn, do and interact with all sorts of crafty mamas, of which I aspire to be. I once took a crafter quiz and discovered that I might be best suited for baking and gardening. I'm not good with exact sciences and I love to get my hands dirty. Even though my aspirations are towards sewing, I will admit there is nothing at all more delightful than sticking my very non-manicured fingers into a big pan of bread dough or a moist pile of soil. Today, I did the latter. I had to take care of business during the 1st half of the day, but after lunch, Jake and I got busy digging up 1 of 2 garden plots in our backyard. Jake lost interest pretty quickly but I could not get enough. I couldn't believe how much YAAC (Yoga at all Costs) is really paying off. I had so much more strength than even a year ago and my sustaining squat quota really hung in there (ie. I was able to squat for long periods of time). I was proud of myself. I tilled away for a good couple of hours and then did the craziest thing which I'm sure will result in a barren garden. I just started digging holes and dumping packets of seeds in them, covering them with soil and watering the hell out of them. I got those suckers drunk. I discovered that Sunflower Seeds are just that, Sunflower Seeds. Amazing. I planted a couple of different types of Sunflowers, some Butter Marigolds, some creeping fuzzy thing and a red hot chili seed of some sort. My neighbor picked us up some strawberry plants so I dug some holes for them and stuck them in the ground too. I have no idea how this will all work out, but I'm sure my arms will be sore tomorrow. I love the idea of just tossing a bunch of seeds in and seeing what happens. I've tried the exact science of gardening and not only was it boring, it was unsuccessful. Jake had fun but he hates bugs and we have some nasty red bug that loves Box Elder leaves. I am baffled as to how to deal with it and can't stand the idea of living with it. I plan to get busy studying a very cool, fun and well designed book called "You Grow Girl". It's connected to a website that is linked to my title. No, I haven't gotten around to fixing my link page, as well as buying my shelves, organizing my desk and catching up on my bills. If I didn't have something I was procrastinating on, what the hell would I have to do.
I captured a thought while gardening. Recently, during a catering, I was standing at a buffet line describing the food we were serving and having mild chitter chat with the guests of the party. I explained that I was able to answer any question the guests might have and one fella said, "Whoa, then I'll ask you what next weeks lottery numbers are, haha" and I said, "Yea, if I knew them I wouldn't be here, hahaha". Then he said, "there is the whole meaning of life question" and I just laughed. My brain starting clicking as I realized that I had not even thought about that issue since the inception of that wondrous young boy we call Jake. I decided that the question must of only arisen after mankind had reached a point of being able to actually choose to not have children. I deduced that the real answer to the question, "why are we here" is to bear children, populate, reproduce, to continue the species, to have children that carry on this one of many species called Human. It keeps it simple. It's a legacy, atleast for me. It's what we take with us when we die, if you want. Or, you don't have to. Thanks to science. And it's good that we have a choice. I guess I was just realizing that I quit pondering my life's existence after Jake. For me, it was all about him. Jake really put it in to perspective and made me realize how huge it is to have a child or my own. I'm sure there are those out there who may regret it. . .I remember hearing how big of a life changer it could be. I really never acknowledged those comments. But now, when I see a couple who is pregnant, with what is obviously their first one. You know the types, thier hair still looks stylish and they have hip clothes on and you can tell they are getting 8 hours of sleep or more, well, I just want to walk up to them and say, "You have no idea what is about to happen to you, words cannot explain the flood of emotion and the sense of responsiblity that you are about to undertake." But, I don't, I just smile and remember when Jake was inside my belly, and . . well, I wish for another chance like that. O.K. Off to walk the dogs.

Got Love if you want, babe.

I hate to do this to you guys but I'm so on the fucking Kinks and I found a better lyric link. This one is way easier and not so many pop-ups. I love lyrics, it's poetry in action. I started on the Kinks because I couldn't get "Stop Your Sobbing" out of my head. When I popped in the CD I came across this song and I can't get enough of it. Jake even loves it. Good harmonica. Anyway, you know. Shake it.

Got love if you want, babe
Got love if you want, babe
I got love if you want it
I got love if you want it
I got love if you want it
You don’t ask all the while[? ]
You don’t ask all the while[? ]

I love you little woman
I love you little woman
The way your hair hang down
The way your hair hang down
But you mistreating baby, yeah
You been a long town
You been a long town

Got love if you want, babe
Got love if you want, babe
I got love if you want it
I got love if you want it

Another Night Out

I have linked the title of this blog to an awesome blog that I recently discovered. The Erwin House is being rebuilt in Crestview and the Erwins are talking about it on their blog. It's so great and filled with yummy, nutritional info nuggets about rebuilding and Crestview, etc. I am in awe and secretly wish I had thier life, just kidding. I really like mine. I love Crestview so much and am really happy Joel found our house. I do sometimes, often, fantasize about buying this house and adding on. I love our backyard. This house does have some goodness about it, but Morrow sucks and there ain't much you can do about that. We went out again last night and it was just too much damn fun. The Ron Titter Band is quite excellent. They are soooooo tight and soooooo into what they are doing. It's good to watch. It gets really exciting and then it's over. I could of used a longer set. Someday, I am just going to sit in the audience and drool over the uber hot drummer in the band. Wow. If anyone knows him, pluuuuueeeeez set me up. All the guys are super cute and they were wearing Black and White. Joel was strutting around 6th street like a bad boy that just left the wedding. It was hot. All my good and dear friends were out and the Tacodeli Mafia showed their support as always. Tacodeli. Good friends. Loyal supporters. I shelled out half a weeks pay for a babysitter again, but it's worth it to be young for a night. It's the cinderella complex. I get all gussied and go out for the night, race home by 3am to turn into Mom again. Joel and I stayed up till 4am, chatted wit da babysitter a bit, then passed out to tunes on the radio. It was all romantic and mom and dad need more nights out. Oh Beast! played after Ron Titter and I was swept back to the old days of oooogling over good bands. I'm really glad I lived it up when I did, pre-Jake. Hopefully, no one noticed the old fart grooving to the music. It's Sunday now and I'm finishing up this post. I did my 7 miler yesterday with my counselor, Penny. I have decided walking 7 miles is mentally like being washed, dried, ironed and folded. I feel so purged afterwards. Loverly. O.K. So, I broke down and did a myspace but I'm cheating by linking this blog to it. So . . .much . . .easier. I'm done. MUST . . DO . . YOGA. Go Ron Titter! You are my God.

Inside my brain . . .

My links are fucked up and I'm dying to put up a link list, just understand that I have not chosen to not have a link list, I just really don't know how to reinstate it and that sucks. I'm working on it. Anyway . . .

Can you hear this song in your head by Frankie Valli.

Oh, what a night.
Late December back in '63.
What a very special time for me,
'Cause I remember what a night.

Oh, what a night.
You know, I didn't even know her name,
But I was never gonna be the same.
What a lady. What a night.

Oh, I. I got a funny feeling when she walked
In the room and I,
As I recall it ended much too soon.

Oh, what a night,
Hypnotizing, mesmerizing me.
She was everything I dreamed she'd be.
Sweet surrender, what a night!

I felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinnin' my head around and taking my body under.
Oh, what a night!

Oh, I. I got a funny feeling when she walked
In the room and I,
As I recall it ended much too soon.

Oh, what a night.
Why'd it take so long to see the light?
Seemed so wrong, but now it seems so right.
What a lady, what a night!

I felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinnin' my head around and taking my body under.
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do

That song is in my head right now. You too can find the lyrics to any song in your head by just going to the link connected to this title.

If I were amazing . . .

this is what I would do. Not only would I do yoga everyday, I would share the love by updating my yogadenada blog regularly, imparting all my insight about stay-at-home yoga with the masses, dropping in on my readers to help adjust poses, dim lights, light incense and rearrange artwork in order to get a proper view for balance. I would sew everyday and post pics regularly to my angrykitty blog. My wardrobe would be a collection of thrift digs, ripped and resewn and cool skirts made from the cloth in the sale bin at the local fabric store. I would be slowly starting my novel about growing up in the 70's with the original divorcee, simultaneously studying magazines from the 70's to do my cultural background work. Enlightened by my research, I would share the information by scanning the cool ads and photos from these great magazines from the 70's (Life, Better Homes & Gardens, etc.) and posting them in my blog. I would regularly release my inner emotional struggles through poetry and I would be studying creative writing, typesetting and design in order to provide myself with a skill that would enhance my money making abilities. Finally, I would buy a home here in lovely Crestview, and proceed to build a fantastic Dwellish, environmentally-correct home that we could live in until Jake and (maybe, a someday, Lola-type, if we can muster the energy to actually try again) other sibling type graduate from school. Oh yeah, I would also have a veggie and herb garden and maybe do a bit of knitting on the side. Instead, I do yoga, do some walking, clean the house all the time, hang out with Jake, read lots of magazines and drink wine, oh, I forgot, I WORK. FUCK WORKING. I hate working. We women took on toooooooo much when we said we would hold down the household, bear children and work. Who ever came up with this women's lib stuff is a pain in my ass. I'd just as soon go back to my grandma's world. Argh. So frustrating. I am channeling Grandma, I know she's out there, watching over me, hopefully she can give me some insight. On a lighter note, another thing I am doing is attempting to walk my ass off for the 3dayorg walk for Breast Cancer in October. Hold on to your ass because what I'm about to say may shock you. I am going to walk 60 miles in 3 days. Ouch. I walked 7 miles last night and I had to sleep in until 8:30am today. Yes, I know that's funny considering I used to sleep until noon regularly, but these days 6:30am is sleeping in, so, yeah, I basically slept all day today. Nonetheless, my dear friend Denise and I are planning to raise $2200.00 individually and walk in the 3dayorg walk. I know it's going to be awe inspiring and amazing and Joel said that he would do it if I got preggers. So, I have no idea what kind of effect that will have on him. Should be excellent. You sleep in tents at night along the way. I think it might hurt a bit because 7 miles is a push, but I'm going to try to build up to 15 miles in the next few months. Maybe it will get rid of this bellyo'mine that I've been lugging around for a year now. I also wanted to do it because I have experienced the shock of breast cancer in a very close relationship, a friend of mine who survived an agressive attack, but also because I never knew my beautiful Grandma Oma who was taken from my mom at a very young age by the ravages of breast cancer. Because of that, cancer is a fear that both my mom and I live with. If you are interested in the 3dayorg walk, hit the title of this blog and it will link you to how to get involved. You don't have to do it in Texas, you can do it all over this great land we call America, the United States. Oh yes. Need . . .more . . .coffee.

Happy Valentine's Day

I know all you guys who are married and such think you have it figured out about love and all but really . . you just never know. I thought I would be with my first husband forever and on the day of our divorce I actually thought we would get back together. No. That will never happen and we were not together forever, only 14 frigging years of my life. No big deal. Really, I thought that my boyfriend after Mark was the love of my life. My perfect fella, but no, he was not the final one for me, though he was good and I do still care for him. We remain friends and that is most important, kind of sacred. No, I think I have it figured out with Joel, it's called kids and sex (oh, I get it, trouble, sex makes kids). For Joel and I, it's "We will make this work for the Boy." But mostly, he continues to be my best friend. The one I want to be with at the end of the day, even if we have fought all day, and we do fight all day. But really, I knew we were the one when I put our names into the love calculator and it gave us a 99 percent chance. I mean Mark and I had a 33 percent chance. That says it all. You should really try it. Just click on the title of this entry and you to can get the closest thing to truth about your love. Meanwhile, do yourself a favor and go get some love on this holiest of love days. Joel and I took yesterday off and had a whole day of doing what we used to do when we didn't have anything to do. If you are married and have kids, you should do this regularly. If you arn't married and you don't have kids but you are in a relationship, you should appreciate your time together. AND. . .if you aren't married and you are single, hell, you should go do whatever the fuck you please because you can and you can never know how nice that is until it's not there anymore. So, go sign up for a 9-day yoga retreat today. That's what I would do. Happy Valentine's Day.

Penis, Women and Rock & Roll!?"

I feel bad for not having any links in my titles. I feel like it's my obligation. I feel worse that I have no links on my blog. I made the mistake of playing with my template and I lost all my links. There were some good ones and that is what makes it so bad. I've been listening to an awesome CD burned by a good friend (an ex-boyfriend) of mine. He burned it for Joel and I can only say. . .check out these bands: Cat Power, Holly Golightly, Kings of Leon and Magnetic Fields. I'm not going to share anymore, these are around and I know you can find them. Sometimes a band is so good, you don't want to let anyone in on the secret. Oh, I just thought of a link. If you don't read BUST, you should. It's the best fucking magazine ever. It's revolutionary. I wait, trembling at my mailbox every other month, for my next issue. I call the office if I notice that an issue is out and not at my mailbox. It's so good, I pour over every page, soaking it in like a chocolate addict eating a bonbon. Thank god for BUST, it saved me while living in that GOD FORSAKEN SHITHOLE CALLED COLORADO. Fuck COLORADO. I HATE COLORADO. O.K. Feeling better after I got that off my chest. So, Joel has been gone alot lately. Crazy, best friend visits, friend of family dies, band practice, catering, etc. So, Jake and I are getting to be very chummy. He loves me, what can I say. Today he explained to me that I was a WOMAN. "Yes, I am a woman." "Claire is a woman," he explains, (Claire is his best bud and Godparents child). "Yes, Claire is a woman," I reply. "I am a man," he states. "Yes, you are a man." I said. "Why am I a man?" He asks. "You are a man because you have a penis." I said. "And it's gonna get you in alot of trouble," I mumbled. "Someday," he said, "I'm going to have a big penis like Dad." "Yes, You Are," I exclaimed. He had his hands in the air, "This big." Hands spread wide, my heart filled with pride. That's my boy. He knows what he's got and he knows where he's going, now, let's just hope he knows what he's doing with it. Hit the link for BUST magazine.

A day OFF

It doesn't seem like it to most, but I work every day. Every day, including today, I take care of Jake, clean the house, wash clothes and even sometimes, cook a meal. I also squeeze in a little of that crazy stuff called paid work. Today, I am currently cleaning the house and this morning I did a little paid work. But, more than anything . . .I took today off. It was awesome. I did not shit-fucking-shit all morning except surf the internet and hang out with Jake while he hid under blankets, played with trains, worked on the Thomas the Train interactive CD's and just goofed off. We never turned on the TV, which was a fucking miracle. Finally, we headed out the door to do one responsible thing then I buzzed around doing things I always want to do but don't because I expect him to be an asshole and he was awesome. We went to a fabric store, a book store and a beauty store. Success at all three. It was beautiful and we went on a great dog walk and I observed my son, visualizing what he would be like in the future, as he crazily road his bike down this hill into a big mound of leaves, then hauled the bike back up the hill to do again. I was convinced he would break his neck everytime, but everytime . . .he made it. It is so exciting to see the daredevil in him and to see his willingness and willfullness to carry his bike up the hill himself. My god, he's becoming a boy. Now, I'm being responsible and picking up before we dig into a big bowl of popcorn and watch a japanese anime movie. It's a tradition with us to watch tv and eat popcorn when Dad's out of town, and, well, Dad's out of town. What a day.