Light and Darkness

Saint John's Bible

On Sunday, I watched a wonderful PBS program on the creation of a large project. A Benedictine monastery and university in Minnesota decided to commission a handwritten Bible in English. The Bible would be written in calligraphy and illustrated beautifully in the old tradition passed down by the scribes of middle ages. Despite any one's beliefs, one has to agree that the Saint John's Bible is a task of awe inspiring brilliance, artistic beauty, and dedication. I am amazed at the work expressed by team working on this project. Simply beautiful.

Alias

I needed some fun today. Thank you, Ms. Pip at the Home Burrough.

1. YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (Name of first pet / Street you live on): Gretchen Pacific

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (Name of your favorite snack food / Grandfather's first name): Veggie Walter

3. YOUR FASHION DESIGNER NAME: (First word you see on your left / Favorite restaurant): Intel Tokyo

4. EXOTIC FOREIGNER ALIAS: (Favorite Spice / Last Foreign Vacation Spot): Curry Epcot - sad isn't it? I haven't been overseas since I was born but I did get to visit all the 'foreign' exhibits at Disney's Epcot. sigh....

5. SOCIALITE ALIAS: (Silliest Childhood Nickname / Town Where You First Partied): Mig Millington

6. "FLY GIRL/BOY" ALIAS (a la J. Lo): (First Initial / First Two or Three Letters of your Last Name): N. Se

7. ICON ALIAS: (Something Sweet Within Sight / Any Liquid in Your Kitchen):
Emma Liquid Smoke...that's just too funny

8. DETECTIVE ALIAS: (Favorite Baby Animal / Where You Went to High School):
Pup Pike, Pup Lejuene or Pup Millington..depending on which of my high schools you would like to reference

9. BARFLY ALIAS: (Last Snack Food You Ate / Your Favorite Alcoholic Drink):
Chip Red Snapper

10. SOAP OPERA ALIAS: (Middle Name / Street Where You First Lived):
Germino Dahlia

11. ROCK STAR ALIAS: (Favorite Candy / Last Name Of Favorite Musician):
Dove Fitzgerald

12. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: ( First 2 letters of your first name and the first 3 Letters from your last name makes your first name. Take the first 2 letters of your mother's maiden name and the first 3 letters of the city you were born in):
Nasen Gehin

An Evening with Mr. Jones

I got to shake hands with the ever so talented Terry Jones. AHA!!!! AHA HA HA!!!! I am still geeking over the entire incident. It was an absolutely brilliant night. It could have been more spectacular..say...had he noticed how amazing a talent I am in my own right and hooked me up with the fantastic people who publish and establish creative ones. ok ok ok. I'm dreaming. But hey, I'm allowed to fantasize a bit.

Honestly, it was wonderful to meet someone of your hallowed halls of idoltry. Discovering Python in my youth was a godsend. Python to an insomniac, at least this one, was a pill for staying on the road to sanity. So, meeting one of those Python boys....BRILLIANT! ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BRILLIANT!!!!

Mr. Jones can pass well as a professor. His energy kept my attention as well as his way of setting up the atmosphere of Chaucer's period. His wit was evident in everything from his voice to the start of his Power Point presentation....and can I say that there is something surreal in sitting in a room watching Terry Jones present a Power Point slideshow.

And my god....was he just the friendliest man. He signed anything that was put in front of him. Graciously stood with his arms around fans for hundreds of pictures. Smiled ear to ear with such earnest. Such a lovely person. Fantastically warm and strong handshake. AND can I say that Terry Jones looks so sexy!

I will not embarrass myself with what an idiot I was that night. Let's just say that things went the traditional Naomi way. Forgot my wallet so I couldn't purchase his book. Didn't have my camera for a picture. Opened my gushing mouth and spilled out a goofy mess about Emma and Rowan Atkinson. Geesh! I was a complete and total twit, and only a minute before I was having a genius IQ conversation about Shakespeare, Chaucer, the Catholic Church, modern references to classic literature and art with the woman behind me in line. Good God, I'm a dork!

AAAANYWAY! Mr. Jones is touring American universities with this lecture. If you get a chance to attend, I highly recommend. It was thoroughly enjoyable. It's evident he enjoys his work. He gives a great lecture.

Chaucer and a Python

  Terry Jones is speaking at the University of West Florida tonight on his book, Who Murdered Chaucer, co-authored by UWF prof Robert Yeager. Planning on going. Yippee! Can't miss an opportunity to meet a Python or discuss a book. Unfortunately, I haven't read it yet and I can't find a damn copy in this freakin town as of yet. Everything is on back order. Library doesn't have it either. Soooo, no intelligent conversation from me. I'll have to be a listener rather than one of those annoying ones with an actual question or bit to pipe in with something to say. Damn! But honestly, that hasn't stopped me in the past at times.

Single

Emmaline is staying with my sister in Tennessee for spring break this week, and it is a bit lonely without her in the house. I had trouble sleeping on the first night without her. Not my usual insomniac ways. Those I can deal with. Sunday night was that empty nest syndrome feeling. It's a pang that takes some getting use to.

Last night was easier to fall asleep because I was struck with a monstrosity of a viral bug that decided to infect me masquarading as a slight cold on Sunday. I went through the day yesterday with a headache and sniffling. Went out for dinner and drinks last night with a few friends and then....BAM!!! I went to bed with fever, chills, muscle pain, headache, and the lot.

Feeling better today. AND no, I did not overdo the drinking last night. I had ONE Red Snapper last night. That's all. Nothing else but water and half a glass of tea. I'm back to the cold symptoms today with achy feeling all over my body. eck!

Missing my Pie. I've spoken to her a couple of times and she appears to be doing well. I'm glad. I've been without her for this long before but it still hurts to be without your child.

Finally got my car's tags renewed. THANK GOD!!! I don't think I posted this but I received my first ticket (EVER) last month for expired tags. I'm also insured. DAMN, today has been a good day so far. Now, I don't have to worry as much when I'm speeding down the road at 3000 mph. I worry not about speeding tickets. It's the other little crappers (like the tags) that I obsess about.

Still looking for a job. Folks, if you knew the crap I was going through...geez. All I can say is that I'm glad I have a sense of humor. By the way, did you know that those little people that hold the signs on the street corners for that furniture store that always seems to be going out of business make about ten dollars an hour?! At least they do here in Pensacola.

So, anyway....just a post. Achy, lonely, but here.

Presidental Traffic Bush is

Presidental Traffic Bush is in town and I'm stuck on base. Evidently at the same intersection the Big Cheese is at.

Oh, John by Paula Cole

Oh John, oh John, oh John

Never lose the memory of April twenty-six
Your hands designed my body
You autographed my hip
I lost all my worry
I lost all sense of time
My fears evaporated
When you held me in your oh my god and

Oh John, in a New York hotel room
In a truck off the back road
Southwest of Chicago
Oh John, in a New England fairground
on a lawn in the backyard
in a town in Colorado, oh
Oh John, oh John, oh John

Saturate my consciousness with sweet elixir wine
Your body is the chalice your spirit is the vine
I lose all my worry
I lose all sense of time
My fears evaporate
When you hold me in your oh my god and

Oh John, in a New York hotel room
In a truck off the back road
Southwest of Chicago
Oh John, in a New England fairground
on a lawn in the backyard
in a town in Colorado, oh
Oh John, oh John, oh John

And everytime I see the ocean you're there
And everytime I see the forest you're on my mind
In my life, flooding me with memories like

Oh John, in a New York hotel room
In a truck off the back road
Southwest of Chicago
Oh John, in a New England fairground
on a lawn in the backyard
in a town in Colorado, oh
Oh John, oh John, oh John

Heads Up, 7Up

Did anyone else play that game in elementary school? God, that was one of my favorites. It was a true test of using your senses. The smell of a person that walked by. How their shoes sounded on the floor. The touch of their hands on your head or shoulder if you got picked. Then you had to read body language when you stood up to pick your kid out of the line up. Who is looking away just a little too hard? Who is giggling beneath the tight lips? Loved that game. If anything, it was a good time to take a nap...if you were so inclined.

I feel like laying my head down on the table. I need a good reason other than letting the deathlike sadness that has been trying to win for the last three days wash over me. Anyone wanna play?

I have sinned!

Forgive me, Carrie. And to my curly brethern out there. To those who don't understand, you may think this is a superflous post. BUT it is not. It is not vain. It is not superficial. This is a testimony of the deepest regard for all those people namely those women who had traumatic experiences with their locks as children. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! And I was reminded two days ago that I withheld vital information from my sister in curlhood. I have committed a grievous sin...I have not shared with the circle. I am sorry and can only ask for forgiveness.

Weeks ago I was introduced to a book that holds some insightful tips in regards to how to care for curly hair. I didn't share with Carrie because...well, honestly....Carrie has the most beautiful curly hair. She has been best friend for ages and she has a routine that helps her hair shine. AND SHINE IT DOES! So, I erroneously thought she didn't need to benefit from this book. AHA!!! Not again. I won't do that again. ALWAYS SHARE, FOLKS!!!

Curly Girl by Lorraine Massey. It's a good book. It took years to fall in love with my hair. I'm not going into a post right now about my traumas because well, it goes back to the Keeper and other family members and I just don't want to talk about them right now. Let's just say that I've grown to love my hair. It took growing well into my twenties but I did it. And this book has only supplemented what I've learned. It's good. I promise. It's going to dispel some things about curly hair and make you throw away some long held beliefs. IT'S GOING TO BE DIFFICULT but it's worth it.

Long Before I found this book, I had already started doing some of the things in it...LIKE DON'T WASH YOUR HAIR EVERY DAY!!!! But I'm serious when I say there are some great things in it. So enjoy...

AND I hope this serves as a mea culpa. SO SORRY!!!

Illusion of the Exercise Wheel

The hamsters & test rats have an understanding of it.We've grand ideas & for them,we kill ourselves.

Need

sushi

Oh, Say Can You . . .spell, read, write?

I heard a bit on the news and read Ali's Star Spangled Banner post and had to comment. I'm peeved to say the least about this most ridiculous of moves in our country's political atmosphere. Ok. Maybe it's not the MOST ridiculous but it ranks up there.

In an effort to restore the value of the Star Spangled Banner, there is a campaign to teach it to our school children. When I was child, I learned it in music class. It wasn't a big whoopty do. I learned it and the three thousand other patriotic songs. I have no qualms about that.

Education is getting axed in every aspect. Cuts are made left and right. Call five schools in your district right now pretending to be a potential parent. See what they offer. Get a freaking wake up call.

Not every school offers P.E. or music or art, which are called Specials in many schools. Recess doesn't happen anymore. Lunch is thrown down the throats of our students because they have to rush if they want enough time to eat. Classes are spent preparing for the standarized tests rather than actually learning anything. More time is spent on fundraisers, which start as soon as the school year begins just so the school has enough money for things it needs. Teachers are paying for basics out of pocket.

And yet....our politicians want to start a campaign spending millions of dollars on public service announcements to educate the American public on the Star Spangled Banner? You want to take precious time away in the time-strapped classroom to do a unit on the Star Spangled Banner...because you know it's going to be a unit. It's not going to be something simple as a one day lesson plan on the bloody song.

It's under the guise of funding music education. I hope you have a lot of money going into the program because it needs it, and the amount our federal government plans on spending on literature, media, and the lot will be enormous.

I also wonder what the hell all this gung-ho crap is for. This nationalistic band-aid scares me. What good is it going to do when beneath the surface will be a society of poorly educated, obese children who will grow up to be bitter, bigoted, close-minded adults who still can't carry a tune festering together in glorious song?

Equal Opportunity Works Both Ways

Evidently, dooce pissed off an idiot for being a woman. Fortunately for twits alike, the good ol' U.S of A has created Equal Opportunity Employment for the idiotic. Fortunately for the asinine and sexist, he can go to his nine-to-fiver and work among the creative and intelligent. Fortunately for his ass, we need to fill our quotas for bigoted, moronic male chauvinists in the workforce. How unfortunate for any human with a vagina and breasts that works in his vicinity.

In the Year of Gilbert O'Sullivan

Forget about the Year of the Rat. Forget that I'm a Scorpio. You may even not know about my Feng Shui Kua number. Oh nooooo. No. No. No. More importantly is my Popstrology Birthstar Birthsong.

Thanks Caffe Eclectic and Sarcasmo for this one. I don't know if I should sigh a big one for relief or hang myself. Been wondering why the hell I go around singing that damn song forever and ever....geesh. Really. Johnny Nash's I Can See Clearly Now

International Women's Day Celebrate

International Women's Day

Celebrate a female role model. Homegrown,famous,or infamous.

WOMEN CHANGE AMERICA

Ok. I'm a little behind but if you don't know yet. March is National Women's History Month. So....Women, go out and be proud. Everyone, go out and learn how women have changed the world. Start with this website. FEED YOUR MIND!!!!! CHANGE THE WORLD!!! BE A MENTOR AND A ROLE MODEL TO A YOUNG GIRL!!!!

The First Sargeant

Talked to my pop last night. He started working this week back at the post office. Unfortunately it's only a couple of hours a day which makes him feel like a worthless sack of shit...no, he didn't tell me that but I can hear it in his voice. It also doesn't reduce the growing mound of debt he and his wife are accruing. There are still issues he is trying to solve with the post office regarding his pay and and his illness. Luckily he had joined the union long before he was diagnosed with Parkinson's. They can't fire him but he's in a hellish limbo right now that is far worse.

He doesn't sound good at all. I asked about his health. I hate to be a pestering nag. My mother is the one in our family known for that trait, and I refuse to be the one to follow her lead. It's annoying as hell. But the man rarely talks to me so an update from him is few and far between. I'm going to ask as much of him as I can. I refuse to be in the dark about his health. His breathing was very labored and congested. I asked him about it and he said that he is now on two different inhalers.

Folks, this scares the hell out of me. I left a message for Carrie today. Have any of you been following the progress of the Pope? He was diagnosed with Parkinson's forever and a day ago and he's much older than my father. The Pope is recently recovering from a serious respiratory illness and breathing complications. My pop is only fifty-three years old and he's having problems breathing already. This FUCKING illness is already wreaking havoc on his body. I HATE IT!!!! I FUCKING HATE IT!!!!!!!!

He went on to tell me what else was wrong and how many doctors he's seeing. He also apologized in advance if he fell asleep during our conversation. He said he did that often. Since when did this man become a narcoleptic?

His attitude was good though. And I asked him how he was emotionally. He said he was good. That counts for something. That counts for a helluva lot. Right?! RIGHT?!!!!

sigh...

Don't mind. I'm still really emotional about this whole issue. I don't like thinking about the serious health issues of my parents. I may not get along with them. I may never want to speak to one of them currently but I don't wish them ill. I'm not a completely cold heartless bitch.

As we get older, we measure the strength of our parents differently. It used to be about their jobs, how they scared us when we were in trouble, and how they comforted us when we were in need. Now it's about how they battle through their own frailties. It's difficult to cross that threshold at first. It's the saddest moment when you have to recognize that your parent isn't a giant of Herculean proportions.

It's just a matter of time and readiness to move past that loss into a more rewarding and realistic view of your parent. I'm seeing my pop as a man with struggling and surviving through his life just as hard as I am with mine.

He's not a giant anymore but I am so very glad. He's within my reach now.

Games We Love To Play

Oh, you're going to get a kick out of this. Thanks, Paul for the fun. You are owed a gorgeously oiled god in a banana hammock for this one. OH HOW FUN!

There's fingernail polish still on my thumb.

I talked to my sister yesterday. She and her family are coming into town this weekend (including my brother-in-law) which will be absolutely fantastic. I'm hoping Em and I will get to spend time with them unless the Keeper intends to be a bitch. I wouldn't put it past her.

Yes, I know. I need to get past that whole issue with my mother thing. I'm working on it. Let me just have my anger and bitterness right now. It's working for me. I've got a comic routine bursting to get out, I just know it. It's going to make me millions so just let it flow right now. That or a Carrie Fisher Postcards on the Edge sort of thing.

I registered with a staffing agency today and have an interview with them on Monday so hopefully will start working temp jobs very soon. I had contacted a bookstore here in town yesterday (or should I say the managers that are located in other cities since the hurricane displaced all of them) and the prospects look good for employment there in a few weeks. I know it's breath holding but that's why I'm registering at a temp agency and looking elsewhere also.

Still taking meds and let me say that I'm liking the mood stability but not liking the brain dysfunction. I hate not being as smart as I usually am. Words are escaping me more than I like. I like being smarter than most people. shhhh! Don't tell. I'm not saying that I like making people look like fools or making them feel inferior but I like my intelligence for the most part. It's part of what defines me. Losing that edge scares me. I feel like I'm losing part of myself. If I lose that, what else do I have?! Make sense? Geez, I think I just insulted everyone. eck!

But my moods are pretty much stable. I do think I am manic. A few weeks ago I thought I still needed an anti-depressant but I think one would send me soaring through dangerously into the manic atmosphere. Scary air up there.

Does any of this make sense to any of you? I know it does to some. Any of you have questions about specific things for me? I've always wondered if you've wanted to ask me something. Don't be scared to ask because I've always wanted to know what went on in the minds of the other people seeing someone go through this. Make sense?

Many times during my manic episodes I feel like an uncontrollable child. I want what I want when I want it. I want no one to control me. I want no limits. My emotions rage out however they wish to. Desires overcome need. Fears need reassuring. No self-control. No rules. No order. Just chaos. Pleasure. Pain.

It's a high. An endorphin rush. Better than any drug. Worth lying about. Worth risking so much for....until the one emotion you fear the most smacks you hard. Mine is anger.

When my mania starts involving irritability and anger....impatience with people...looking at people as stupid imbeciles not worthy of my time...then I get fearful. The high is scary and I start to fall fast and hard. Anger is my list. I'm afraid of my anger I've had building in me since childhood and I keep repressing.

But my mood is pretty good today. I just need to clean the house in prep for my sis' visit. And I need to clean my nails. There's fingernail polish still on my thumb.

Sharing

Scanned a photo I took with my manual during Christmas. In ode to my goofy yet sexy social studies teacher in middle school, I offer you this little pun...

All of you are the light of my world.

Yeah...I know. It's bad.

Late

If you haven't clicked to this Storyteller yet, he's worth it. Late is a favorite. He doesn't update frequently but he has archives that are well worth the time spent there. PLEASE READ. Good time. And he gives wine recommendations.

I confuse myself sometimes with people younger than myself. I see young adults in their early twenties and forget that I'm no longer in that crowd. It's hard to imagine that the years between adolescence and early middle age flew by quickly.

But that's where I'm firmly heading into. When watching the Today show today, I was slapped with the realization of how much older I am than what I thought or felt I was. In my emotional being, I feel immature. I feel like that fifteen year old girl wearing the sixties clothes during Homecoming week in Jacksonville, North Carolina that was sent to the PMO station for a domestic dispute. In my mind's eye, I'm that insecure teen with little stability and little guidance battling my parents because I only wanted to be hugged and valued. And watching the Today show, I was confronted with young adults already making differences in the lives of the world's inhabitants. So young. I felt old.

Not because of chronological age. I'm far from it. I'm only thirty-two. If I live healthy, I've fifty or so years ahead of me. But in a civilization of fast-paced movers and shakers, innovators, geniuses, and entrepeneurs...I'm past my prime.

Then I was reminded of it when I spoke to Sami. My child is hitting her adolescence. She's in her pre-pubescence. She's in the short step before she's going to be on the Today show impressing an audience with her leadership, mind, and giving force.

I feel so old. I feel I've missed my chance to change the world. I've feel I wasted my potential and opportunity and my gifts. I feel I've let down the world. I think this is why I've felt so sad for so very long. I've wanted to change and I've need to change. I don't know how. And all this potential welling inside is getting old and unused.

Is there an expiration date on human potential? On our gifts? On me?

Phonecalls

Sami...you're just cool to talk with.