You are held by holy angels

My father, who is an eternal music machine, was humming "The Water is Wide" while measuring for my door frame. This means they have the Three Altos playing in his car. There was a point in the fall when I had purchased three copies of their cd and still didn't have it for myself. Now that I am blessed with my own copy (thank you Lisa and Barb), I am drawn to "Holy Angels". Being fiercely independent, I forget how to let go.

While this is fabulous music, my favorite thing about this cd is the cover. It features three pairs of legs. The first is wearing black hose and slinky black heels in your traditional "ain't I sexy" pose. The second is wearing pink khakis and laced yellow high-top tennis shoes in a crossed and relaxed pose. The third pair is wearing well-worn jeans and Birkes in a laid-back and simply standing-minding-my-own-business pose. While this sounds very boring thus far, I have to say I have thought about this cover a lot.

I am three altos in one.

My work has me in slinky heels. When I'm not working, I live in jeans and sandals (I'm a Chaco/Tevo girl). And the second pair? Well, I like to think of myself as an artist who wears funky things, but it is more mental than physical. I let my jewelry scream wildly on behalf of the rest of my wardrobe.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, it's been a long month. Thank goodness April doesn't have the audacity to have more than 30 days. But tonight, tonight I'm feeling good. Grateful in fact. I am very blessed and most definitely held by holy angels.

They will see us waving from such great heights

I am watching a blog debate over the movie Garden State and am wondering why there are movie critics at all.

Here are a few examples. Recently, Punky and I watched the new King Kong. While I will admit there are some amazing moments and touching scenes and the whole girl/gorilla story is well-played, there was way too much melodramatic slop in the middle. Peter Jackson is a genius, but that's no excuse for locking up your editor.

And I love rom-coms. Lets face it: Falling madly in love only happens a handful of times in one life. Thus, I must see it on screen between two people faking it. Well, usually faking it.

I watched Tristan and Isolde last night (not really a romcom) and felt my heart lurch around watching this sad romance. Was it an amazing movie? Nah. But I will watch it again. And again. And probably again.

Live your life with arms wide open

After spending yesterday completely sloth-like on the couch (my datebook wasn't even near me), I am starting to feel better. I'm still a snot factory, but my energy is better.

I have been asked why I would share my chicken-sneeze story if it was so humiliating. To be honest, I have to get comfortable with failure, humility and grief or I will never really succeed. I am a rotten loser, especially since I always forget that I am my only competition. This needs to stop.

I also need to let go of a lot of pain.

The greatest part of any sad/painful situation is that there are always one or two beautiful things that come after that you notice only because of your grief. I was with my friend as her father died at the beginning of the year. A few days later I was walking the dog and heard O Holy Night (perhaps my favorite hymn) in bells from the neighborhood church. Fall on your knees. I am convinced that I might have missed it had I not been pensive from recent events.

Today, a few lovely things happened. Michelle gave me permission to take care of myself and Diane passed along a lovely, unexpected comment from someone who has known me most of my life. I could not have asked for greater blessings.

On a lighter note, I had a dream the other night about my brother (Matt, I am so sorry). He had spent $5000 on an outfit that consisted of a black sweater, a plaid pleated skirt, fish-net stockings and shoes (costing $2350) designed by Eminem made to fit Big Bird. It wasn't a drag thing, more like a hip-hop (flop) trend. I have an idea of what this means. Any suggestions?

Break it down again

Please note: If you have a strong gag reflex, you may want to skip reading this blog entry.

Let me start by telling you that I have never been a particularly graceful person. I am the sixth grader in the picture with the mayor with chocolate ice cream down my front. I am the girl in elementary school who threw up in the lunchroom, in Matt Sauer's pencil box during reading time, seven times on a camping trip, twenty minutes after my husband proposed to me and countless other, extremely embarrassing times.

I was hoping to out-grow my graceless, messy ways by now, by thirty. But no.

This morning, after a month that has already put me through the ringer, I sneezed with a mouth full of chicken during our church pot-luck. Bits everywhere. The person next to me may never come near me again. I took my plate to an empty classroom where I then could not stop crying.

When I returned, after making sure there were no more chicken bits on my person, I continued to cry until I could go home and sleep for a few hours.

I will now refer to this as the chicken-bit breakdown of 2006. I should be writing this from a padded room, but I'm actually a lot better now. I'm telling you all of this because I am tired of trying not to be something that I am: A total mess.

The hand you hold is the hand that holds you down

I listened to the first mix cd I made while in grad school in the car today. Most of the songs are a throw-back to my college years. They connect me so vividly to important moments in my life.

The Who's Baba O'Reilly: I love British Invasion, but the Who always makes me happy. (And, no, I do not watch CSI anymore- too depressing)

Divinyls' (Is that right?) Groove is in the Heart: Just want to dance to this one.

The Verve's Hero: Reminds me that I need to be my own hero and help others do the same.

James' Protect me: Reminds me of someone I used to know.

Be with you by some one-hit wonder: Makes me miss the hair bands of the 90's, the ones with the long, flowing locks singing ballads. Sigh.

Black Crowes' She talks to angels: We all hold on to something.

The list goes on. Still, many a normal-person saw me rocking out in my car today.


So, what song do you sing in the car?

She needs wide open spaces

I'm in the mood to go on a road trip with my Indigo Girls and Dixie Chicks collections. If only time, my life, and the gas prices permitted it at this point. I will just have to visualize myself having an adventure.

Since we don't have health insurance this month (wahoo for changing jobs), I am of course feeling unwell. I was thinking mono, but Bec thinks it's more about my varying caffeine intake. I'm trying to cut back by going the caf-tea route, but I'm hooked on coffee. Vicki suggested healing touch, which I should look into.

I do think it is my responsibility to fix things for people. I absorb stress and worry like a desperate sponge. This is the main reason why I veered away from the profession of my parents, Social Work, and more towards science, which involves different types of absorption. I ran, but I couldn't hide.

I think I am worn out by the word "yes".

Time is on my side, yes it is

I'm trying to remember a time when I wasn't an always-late person. A time when I was not the queen of alarm clock negociating. I have always had a love/hate relationship with my snooze button. I spend a lot of time in the morning calculating how long it will really take me to get ready in the morning. Can I sleep another five minutes?

I used to think that the world had it out for non-morning people. Back in my chemist days, I would have to use dangerous chemicals first thing in the morning. I could not have done it without caffeine.

Now I'm seeing the trend of working late into the evening. I hear morning people are ready for sleep at nine, so the world is targeting them as well. So we are not supposed to be morning people or night owls.

Which leaves us only the option of being zombies.

Happy Eve of Tax Day! Happy Easter!

Every day is a winding road

What does it mean to "get back to normal"? This past week has been total chaos. I keep thinking of the phrase "you don't have to change everything to change everything". One person is suddenly gone and everything changes. Some relationships get better, some worse. But it's all different.

It's time to cherish moments of joy. Sabrina and Sebastian stopped by today while the dog was outside. Watching boy and puppy chase each other around and figure out how to play together is priceless. There is the same level of mutual interest and fear. As long as the tail is wagging and the boy is giggling, it works.

Random thoughts on the day of Pam's funeral

-The best funerals oscillate between tears and laughter.

-You learn a lot about your in-laws when all their relatives sit around and reminisce.

-Lutheran hymnals are VERY heavy.

-Grace can come from surprising places.

In high school, I walked three blocks home from the bus stop. One day I had had quite a few problems with my dramatic friends and was in a funk walking home. I ran into Tom Starr. He told me about a dream he'd had about a beautiful forest that had burnt down. The following spring, a gorgeous field of flowers grew from where the forest had been.

I remember this whenever life is falling apart. I can already see the beautiful things that are falling back together.

The end of the world as we know it

I didn't understand this REM song until I heard it the day I graduated from high school. It is always the end of the world as we know it. Things are in constant change. This is very true right now, but I feel nowhere near fine.

The unspeakable happened last night. My husband's stepmother died. She was only 38.

The moment Aaron introduced me to his dad and Pam, I became part of their family. Which of course meant I got teased just like everyone else. Their house was always comfortable and friendly.

Pam loved golden retrievers and so, when we first got Nuschler, she was thrilled. I would call her up in a panic over some small, puppy thing, and she would tell me what to do and when to chill.

Aaron and I got to go on one trip with her and Dale. We went to the cities for a hockey tournament. At one point, the boys caught a game while the girls went shopping. Pam introduced me to the cheese store at the Mall of America. We were hoping to make it a yearly event, but couldn't make it happen.

I guess I never really thought of us as very close until I fell this gigantic hole she left behind. I go numb just thinking about how excited she was about us someday having kids.

Carpe diem, my friends. And thank you...

If you can't make your mind up, we'll never get started

Currently, a Sudoku is kicking my sorry butt. What is the point of a master's when counting to 9 is giving me trouble? Goodness...

On Sunday, Michelle said that there was most likely no religious meaning in the movie Strictly Ballroom, which we watched last night. I nearly stood up and begged to differ. A life lived in fear is a life half-lived, the central theme of the movie. Faith being the opposite of fear, there were lots of religious meaning in the movie, as well as fantastic dialogue, crazy costumes, cool music and hot dancing.

Most of us go through life playing it safe, which is the effect of fear. Not that we should be wildly playing with electricity, loitering about dark alleys or performing at-home surgeries based on information we found on the internet. I'm just wondering if we are playing it too safe.

I have said this before: People who take risks are not delusional to think that it will all turn out perfectly. They simply know they are resourceful enough to fix the problems that arise. They have faith.

What risk have you been meaning to take?

V

Punky, myself, and a friend went to see V this evening. I knew some of what to expect, but didn't think I would react to it as physically as I did. There was a point where I felt sick to my stomach. Not due to any images, but the ideas portrayed. Also not because it was too unreal, but that it was not an impossibility. A central theme is that artists (including actors) use lies in order to tell the truth. When a man, who happens to be an actor, says this on screen, you have a lot to think about.

If you have seen this movie, please comment on your views of it being a possibility. If you have not seen it, please consider it. There is violence and disturbing images and it will probably get noted on your FBI file, but it is well worth it.

I'm trying to think of some way to end on a lighter note. All I can say is that there is always hope.