i cannot tell a lie

I recalled a memory today from back when I was living on Sherman Street in Denver. I was a poor grad student in my last year of studies, deeper in debt and school work than ever before. Sitting outside my apartment on one of those beautiful sunshiny Colorado days when a local 12-stepper (possibly off the wagon) asked to borrow my cell phone. I replied simply with a "sorry, I don't have one." To which she promptly yelled back, "You're a liar! Who doesn't have a cell phone?!" I was taken a little aback. As she stormed away around the corner, I sat slack-jawed and speechless. Never before was I yelled at for telling the god's honest truth. I really was so poor I could not afford a cell phone. I thought about it for a bit longer and realized, hey, if her second statement were true, why was she asking to borrow mine?

interesting

I have never claimed my life is boring,
and this I love.

What an intense and chaotic day yesterday was!
Clients in crisis, people dealing with intensity and strange happenings all around.

However, nothing a little tart cherry juice (yum!) and a deep breath couldn't handle. (Though yoga class brought lots of charlie horses in my muscles, but I have a feeling that was a result of beginning chiropractic adjustments last week.)

Okay, Friday, bring it!

things that go bump in the night?

Apparently, my face... into a door. I have a nice little lump on my forehead to prove it. I had just said goodnight to my rabbit Sherman and shut the light. With eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness of my basement apartment, I could not spy the bedroom door not open enough to allow clear passage. Face meet door, door meet face. Not so nice to meet you! Luckily, spectacles survived the blow unscathed. My face, not so lucky. What is lucky? I can laugh at myself. Join me, won't you?

has anyone seen...

...my attention span? I seem to have lost it and do not know where it went. It was last seen yesterday, before going to bed. Apparently, at some point during the night it got bored from the lack of activity of slumber and decided to venture out on it's own. When I awoke this morning, it was no where to be found and without it, I do not have the focus to look for it.

Help me out. If you see it, please bring it back home to me. I would appreciate it highly.

next week

I will be taking the week off from work commencing next Monday. Here is my tentative plan:

exploring local hiking trails
taking a yoga class or two
resting
letting Sherman hop around my feet
reading
creating art
writing
clearing my mind
deep breathing
prepping the garden and sowing seeds
laughing

Anyone care to join me?

dresses

dress
Originally uploaded by misslissa13

I am the younger of two children, having an older brother. From what my mother told me, her and my father waited for our births to find out our sexes. After I was born, the obstetrician told my mother, "you got what you wanted!"

Here I was all new and pink. My mom's new little girl. I wonder if that day over 35 years ago, my mother had known she really got a rough and tumble tomboy. I loved sports, played in the mud, and climbed trees. As a matter of fact, I still do these things. In high school, I embraced the black, baggy uniform of a teen punk complete with army issue combat boots or my ox blood Doc's. As a 20-something bartender/industrial club goer overalls and boots were very convenient. Heck, I was not going out to meet guys, I was going to dance hard and hang out with my friends. (Oddly enough, this "aloof" attitude got me hit on a lot back then.)

Despite all this, I know there is a feminine, graceful woman inside this shell that prefers hikes to beaches and umbrella drinks. This weekend I tried an experiment: Girly Clothes.

Dresses, newly acquired and flowery. And not because I had a dress up occasion. Just because I wanted to wear them. To my surprise, it felt nice. So much so, I want to dress this way more often. And I think I will.

Mind you, I will need to keep a change of clothing with me at all times, because you never know when I might come across a good climbing tree. And really, a lady would not moon the neighborhood.

sick and too hard on myself

Upon rising from bed the room whipped around so quickly, I stumbled over to the left (yes, the left). Apparently, my sinuses had some hidden congestion that it wasn't letting my nose in on; I could breathe just fine but, oh, the spinning! I resorted to taking some sinus meds first thing, but an hour later every turn, tilt or bend of the head sent me on a nauseating roller coaster ride....and I usually love roller coasters (read: obsessed even). But this was not fun. I felt my head heat up and the decongestant did nothing but make me thirsty. Needless to say, I called in sick at work. There was no way I would have been able to drive in any semblance of a straight line. (I know, you never go straight, go forward. If you stay straight you eventually hit something. Forward has more leeway. But I digress.)

The first three hours at home, I was only able to keep my head in one position in order to cease the spins. Was this a comfortable position? Not particularly. I had to keep it tilted at about a 47 degree angle, directly back. The second round of sinus meds slowed the room around enough to lay down on my side or back and doze off to some boring daytime television. After my second and third naps of the day, I found my inner critic whipping me from behind squealing, "What are you doing wasting your day just watching television and snoozing???? Get up and be productive! You should be cleaning and packing and doing stuff!!!" And so the battle began. Evil Critic on one shoulder jabbing me in the temple with a hot poker, and Sickly Angle-like Being on the standing on my right kneecap weakly shouting back, "You're sick! Be kind to yourself and your body and nap, nap, nap. It is okay." But Evil Critic was relentless with her jeering.

However, sick sometimes beats evil so I did nothing productive. I'm still looking around at all the stuff that needs to get done, sighing with despair, but my body is saying, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I guess I could try reasoning with Evil Critic, but sometimes it's just as easy to flick her off my shoulder and into the pile of empty boxes that need to be filled.

embarrassing mom, take one

Scene: Sierra Club led hike

Cast: Hike leader and husband
Eighty-something married couple
My mother
Greg Groovy
Me

Conversation:

80-somethings: "We're newlyweds! Married 67 years!"
Leader: "Wow, that's great, we've been married 32 years!"
Me (chiming in without skipping a beat): "We've just been living in sin for two years."
Mom (through chokes of laughter): "Shhhhhhhh!"
Me (innocently): "Whaaaaaat???"

and scene.

I think the others thought we were truly newlyweds. No, just heathen sinners.