Inspiration is eating around at the edges of my brain, but hasn't quite found the core. Floating images of cars, suns, trips, puppies, and clouds flicker in and out at random. None of them stay for long, so I have no real concept of what to say about them.

I suppose at some point one will settle down on my head and I'll be able to spit it all out of the end of my fingers.

My kitty cat likes to sit on my lap when I type. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but, my cat is about 30 lbs and I have to sit on my bed to use my computers so he sits on my lap and rests his head on my thumbs as I'm typing. It makes for some very interesting words sometimes. If I could figure out how to put a picture on my blog I would post a picture of him so you all could see him. He's a very pretty cat.

Alas, he's a very spoiled cat. He thinks he's the center of the universe, and my roomate and I go far to encourage this notion. I got him from my mother on my birthday 2 years ago. He was about a month or two old at that time. The rest of the kittens from that litter grew up to be normal, medium sized cats. Polka (receiving his name from the two dots of black on his little nose) became a mutant cat. At 39 inches from nose to the end of his tail. He's quite possibly the largest house cat I've seen. I'm pretty sure he's pushing 30 lbs, and getting bigger. Notice I did not say fatter. While my cat is carrying a little extra weight. He's just a very very large cat with or without the extra bit around his middle.

So, we pamper and spoil him. He eats nothing but cat food and pounces on the olives we drop. He doesn't eat any other kind of people food...just olives (he's a weird cat.)

At some point in time, I talked about going to a cottage away from everyone where I could enjoy seclusion and write in peace. A place where I could just rest my weary mind and dream away the day. Cheese and wine, bread and fruit, and a small path leading away.

Right now, it seems more that I'm in the middle of an enormous city and bustling through with no time to stop and look for my little path. Everything runs by in a blur and I never seem to grasp anything to hold and examine. I know there must be input there, but neither the cottage or the cafe has made itself readily apparent, and I seem to be staring off into nothingness with no hope for finding what I am looking for any time soon.

I guess in a way everything is relative--not just honesty. We look in the mirror and see nothing but flaws. This is too big, that is too small. The nose is turned up, or the eyes aren't positioned correctly. We decide before the day begins that we aren't good enough and go through the day thinking this. When someone comes along and wants to pop our little bubble, we become definsive and confused. Basically, they are saying that all those things we saw this morning aren't real and that we are completely wrong in how we see ourselves.

In well-behaved society, compliments were never made to be taken. When one says very sweetly, "thank you," to the person who has just said, "You have a very pretty smile," one can be accused of being egotistical. I do not understand this attitude, and in fact encourage my students to accept compliments graciously, but with limited success. I believe that the more times I tell them that they are beautiful, smart, kind, and good, the more likely they will be to accept that side of themselves.

How unfortunate that society, as a whole doesn't agree.

I've changed the comment system. I was having too many problems with the shout out system. Hopefully this one will be less hassle.

Honesty is relative. You have your opinion of what the world should know of you and you tend to stay with that. This person knows this much, that person knows something a little more, or less. At any given point no one really knows everything because life tends to be too private to discuss it with anyone. At what point does this secrecy become dishonesty? At what point is it that you are lying to someone instead of merely not talking to them about certain aspects of your life?

Everyone close to me knows that I'm very forthcoming with certain aspects of my life. With others, there is no way to get information out of me if I don't want to give it. For a long time, I though I was the only one like that and that I was wrong for being this way, but more and more, I am finding people who don't like to tell any one person everything. We pick and chose our friends to fill certain aspects in our lives, and if they try to step over their boundaries, we get angry and defensive.

Maybe this is limiting to our friendships. Maybe it's limiting to our own personal growth. Maybe it's just plain wrong. But what choice do we haver, really? We work hard to create our own little image. We sculpt ourselves using the words we hear from others as tools of shaping. And we are never done. We continue scarring the marble of our image and expecting other people to see the beauty within. But each person in life sees the statue we are creating from a different aspect, there are lines clearly drawn. Everyone in the audience has an assigned seat--non refundable, non transferable, and cannot be changed for a different seat.

Quick Bible Lesson

Jacob was the youngest son of Isaac. His older brother Esau had the right to inherit the mahority of his father's estate. Esau was also his father's favorite, while Jacob was his mother's favorite. When the two became older, Jacob tricked Esau into trading his birthright, or inheritance, and his father's blessing meant for the oldest son for a bowl of soup.

When Isaac was about to die, Jacob knew that Esau wouldn't hold to the deal they had made over the bowl of soup. So he and his mother planned to trick Isaac into believing that Jacob was Esau. After Esau found out that Jacob had again tricked him and had gotten his intended blessing from their father, he was angry enough to kill Jacob. So, Jacob had to run away.

In the interim, Jacob acquired 2 wives and several children. At some point Jacob was making his way back toward his home territory. He had sent a messenger ahead who came back with the news that Esau was headed toward them with a "great host" of men. Of course Jacob was very frightened.

Jacob separated himself fromt he rest of his caravan, and spent the night in his tent alone. During his sleep, an angel came to him and they fought. They wrestled much of the night. Jacob wanted to extract a blessing from him and the angel wouldn't give him one. So Jacob held on as much as he could. Toward morning, the angel touched Jacobs hip and dislocated it. But he also give Jacob the blessing that he so desired. This is when Jacob's name was changed to Israel. From that day on, Jacob walked with a limp.

Basically, Jacob fought with the angel and received the blessing that he so desired. He was to be the father of a great nation, but at what cost? He was crippled for life. His stubbornness had awarded him both a blessing and a curse. He was given what he most desired, but he was scarred by the fighting for it.

And now for something a little more frivolous:

I’m going to write this poem with all these great lines I can’t use

Those ones I scribble down on napkins and lose in the ladies room, only to remember the next time I’m in that restaurant, which gives me the futile urge to rummage through the trash,

Knowing it’s already gone

Dedicated to Nate (whom I’ve only met once)

Those lines we think are crap

And he can add a few

If he wants

I’m gonna write this poem

Every time I want to hold you
You smile

{The poet scratches at the paper with her pen}

Just as soon as I locate my napkin stash, and my receipt, stash, and my “paper-I-already-turned-in-so-I-can-use-the-back-for-something-else” stash, and my six different journals.

Of course, then, I’ll have to see if I can read what I’ve scribbled out…

Ok, Ok, Ok. New poetry.

I can give a quick lesson on the references in this piece if anyone needs it. So, if you are confused about the reference to the angel, and the blessing, just let me know and I'll give you a bit of Bible history.

Here it is. Please use my comment system freely for comments and critiques.

Mother, I fought the angel again last night
The one who gives me my blessing
Wrestled all night in my sleep
Negotiating peace
Lines of trust.
Twisting in his grasp.
I fought the angel last night
My bought birthright.
My youngest daughter’s curse.
Mother, I fought the angel again last night
The one who curses my wandering
Held tight to his heel as I had before.
Mother, I woke again
Limping.

Um, new poetry, hmmmmm.... Yes, I have some, but have been rather lazy about getting it out, I'm afraid. It's been a rather long, arduous couple of months for me.

I will try to get some posted in the next day or two.

IT'S A BOY!!

My friend Sonja had a baby. He was 1 month early (approx.), and still 7 lbs and 10 oz. So, he was still a pretty big boy. I was happy that I missed most of the mess of the birth this time. Last time she did this I showed up shortly after the baby got here, and there was still a big mess from the birth. Yuck!

Sonja lost over 2 liters of blood during the birth, but is ok now. She was in intensive care for most of the day. She didn't get to hold her new baby till about 16 hours after he was born because of all the complications. She's doing ok now, and is in a regular room. The baby still has low blood sugar, but is otherwise just fine.

They now have 3 beautiful children. 2 girls and a boy. The boy really doesn't know what he's in for. He's got a sister 7 years older, and a sister 4 years older. If you include me in the mix, which they always do, he also has a sister who is 29 years older. Andy and Sonja tend to adopt anyone around them as spare children. Sonja is just the motherly type.

Bed time for me, today started a long time ago!

It's hot!! It's not quite as hot as it was a couple of weeks ago, but it's still hot. While driving around town in my car with the back windows that only roll down about 1/3 of the way, and no air conditioning in the 95 degree heat when the heat index was well over 100, I really began to hate where I live.

Well, with all the problems with my car, I decided it was about time for some reliable transportation. So, I used the money I had saved up and got a new car. 97 Ford Contour. 65,000 miles. $2300. I feel pretty good about it. This car has air conditioning.

As soon as I bough the car, the temperature dropped into the low 80's/upper 70's. Isn't life ironic?