Diane Leota Davis

Happy Beginnings...

2010-01-26T21:58:00.000-08:00

It would be easy to say the story has a happy ending...

After two and a half years of process after process to get Kembert home...

After Kristen and Karis were in Haiti and and survived the earthquake...

After realizing that the years of adoption paperwork was under the rubble...

After having to leave Kembert behind in a chaotic country...

After advocating on behalf of Kembert and other orphans over and over and over again...

After Facebook and Twitter updates mobilizing friends to also spread the word...

After countless calls and letters to Congress, the White House, my Senators...

After what had to have been intense moments of uncertainty and fear...

After all of these things and more...

Kembert (pronounced Kem-bay) was granted Humanitarian Parole and was flown to the US to reunite with his forever family.

I am a person of very limited faith, but when I read the news of Kembert coming home on Facebook, I started BAWLING my eyes out. I mean, BOO HOO crying. I was glad to be home alone because I called Jen and cried, left an ugly cry message for Sarah, shared the joy with Lisa, then just sat in my living room saying thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you... over and over and over again. Thank you God. I had no idea I felt this invested until we got the news, and I couldn't be happier for the Howerton's complete family, for goodness winning, for love prevailing.

Here is Daddy Mark and Kembert after a long night of being contained in a holding facility while paperwork was processed. Oh yes, I saw this picture and more tears came. BTW... so happy to have a crying buddy in Bunch... she never lets us down in the sentimental tears department!

Mark then flew from Orlando to LAX with Kembert and I tell ya, I was there for this homecoming in spirit. News video of the homecoming can be viewed here.

I have been very mindful of Kristen, Mark, Jafta, Kembert, India, and Karis since they went home. Mindful of the transitions that are bound to be challenging with the acculturation process in helping Kembert adjust to his new environment while learning English. Mindful of the change in routine with the other kiddos. Mindful of the pragmatics such as not having a vehicle big enough to support another child or the fact that the adoption process may have to start over. Mindful that this was all very sudden and Kristen has most likely not had the time to digest the horrors of what she experienced in Haiti. I'm just so mindful of this family. But what I know of them is they will overcome the challenges because they are so full of love. I don't always think love conquers all, but in this case, I have absolutely no cynicism and absolutely trust the love and goodness and intentions in this family.

Yes, it would be easy to say this story has a happy ending. But really, the story is just beginning. And here's to beautiful beautiful beginnings...

Legacy in a Letter

2010-01-20T02:36:00.000-08:00

If you know me well, you know that I struggle with existential meaning of life questions. I usually loathe my birthday because I tend to flog myself about how I am not living an embedded life as the best version of myself. It is doubtful I will ever have biological children, and I experience angst over a sense of legacy. I occasionally feel fear and sadness that my life isn't really mattering. I want to be valued and remembered, and I want my hands and heart to make a difference on the planet. A tangible difference in easing the suffering of others, of really spending my life in ways that truly matter.

Here is my honesty... if I were brave enough, I would be working in a country like Haiti BEFORE a crisis hits that gets world attention. There are planes sitting on the tarmac that are unable to get food and medical supplies to much needed areas because of a lack of infrastructure. This was an issue before the earthquake. Haitians are some of the poorest in the world and the suffering was real when I was living my daily life completely unaware. And there are countless countries in dire need... right. this. second. Just because it isn't on CNN doesn't mean it doesn't exist. So if I were living my best life, I would be a Troy and Tara Livesey, but in an authentic Diane Davis sort of way.

With that said, I think I am right where I am supposed to be for the moment. Just don't be surprised if someday you find me working in a refugee camp in Sudan. I am trying to be open to the Universe and what it has to teach me. I want to live in awareness to the ways She will prepare me for just the right time to take bold steps into a deeper sense of self that will in turn move out into the world. I don't have a picture of what that will look like, and that sounds about right for this time in life. I pray that when the timing is right the picture and the call will come, in gentleness and complete assurance.

So, all of this to say... I wanted to share a letter I received from Traphis today. This letter really touched me and gave me a glimmer that life isn't all or nothing, that right now I am loving and caring and making a difference... in my work, in my friendships, in my community, and in Kenya. Traphis is one of the four kids (now a grown woman) that is going to college in Kenya. Friends and family have responded to my fundraising requests, the money is being matched by the Orphan Support League, and I pay for her tuition and wire her money for her living expenses. I am completely impressed with her articulate writing and use of imagery (remember English is her third language). This really isn't about ME (we all have opportunities to respond to others), and yet I feel a strong sense of meaningful legacy in her words...

****

[January 19, 2010]

Dear Mum,

I shall not tire to call you the title above because truly you are a mum to me. Some thanks are better spoken than written and I wish I could tell this to you face to face. I sincerely owe you a lot. I haven't just had your support but I have felt it. Just like a mother elephant and her young one, I have felt the tender support of your trunk on my back as I have struggled to climb my daily life uphills.

''Kutoa ni moyo, usambe ni utajiri,''... don't get surprised, this is just a kiswahili proverb which means that "giving is triggered by the heart, it is not because of having too much to spend.'' You have provided to us not because you have material wealth but because you have a rich heart! My dear mum, you have impacted souls. You made me realize Gods love through a human being with a big heart. I will never thank you enough for what you do for me.

Right now, I only have good wishes for you and prayers to make before the Lord just for you. May he increase you and reward you in a tenfold, pay back to you in a way that defies human understanding.

I was in a deep slumber, I had not planned to wake up (so i could not wake up on my own), but you who was awake, woke me up with a soft peck on my cheek and a caring voice. This surely makes me feel that no man is an island entirely of itself, every man is a piece of the world, a part of the main.

Thank you very much for having lived your life like a candle which burns itself but gives light to others. I pray that one day I may impact souls the way you do. You are a "story" for me to tell my children's children.

God bless you.

Your daughter,

Traphis

Traphis 2003

When Death Comes

2010-01-20T01:57:00.000-08:00

Rebecca had this posted on her blog and I absolutely love it... so I am copying her (without verbal, written, or legal permission) ;)

****

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom; taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

When Death Comes by Mary Oliver

Integration

2010-01-20T01:55:00.000-08:00

While watching football all weekend, I saw a commercial from Southwest Airlines. The commercial showed airline pilots on the job saying "this is what I do" followed by images of them volunteering with sick kids, feeding the homeless, and helping with war vets saying, "and this is who I am." The commercial evoked emotion in me. I recognize the significance of so many jobs that are necessary to make the world go round. Honestly, I am often most impressed by the woman who cleans our bathrooms at work since I am amazed at how truly disgusting educated and professional women in the work place can be. Anyways, when I watched this commercial several times over, I was struck with a feeling of gratitude. I am grateful that I have a career that what I do and who I am are one in the same. I love the integration.

2009 Year In Review as told by Facebook Status Updates...

2010-01-02T20:40:00.000-08:00

DIANE DAVIS... thinks it is interesting that the pac went 5-0 in their bowl games. not bad for a "weak" conference... 4 is still recovering but finally kicking the cough syrup addiction... 4 just found out that my blog was quoted in the New York Times. Crazy! 4 on my way to DC to be a part of history... 4 is so proud. Inauguration was just very cool. and cold... 4 took the metro thru three states to eat lunch today. in 40 minutes. strange... 4 just finished Jayber Crow... I. Loved. This. Book.... 4 can't understand why anyone would listen to rush limbaugh. gag... 4 just got back from seeing Milk. Very good flick... 4 has a crush on Mike Tomlin but wants the Cards to win... 4 is mildly bummed that the cards lost. BUT i did win $200 on TWO superbowl squares. :) ... 4 recognizes her error in asking Brian (6'3") to hang the pictures "eye level"... 4 is making meatloaf AND doing laundry. domestic goddess i am... 4 was just between bitch and meltdown mode dealing with Kaiser... but we'll just call it "advocacy"... 4 just watched Revolutionary Road. Heavy... 4 is broken... 4 is thankful for the love... 4 is caving to my craving for Indian food... 4 just got off the phone with the bank lady who had no idea Kenya was a country. Seriously... 4 got back together with cottage cheese and pineapple with a hint of black pepper. i missed you!... 4 needs to clean out messy closets. the physical ones... 4 loves the sound of silence... 4 thinks nothing beats a sunny day... 4 is home in Oregon with her BFF Reggie... 4 is in love with the sweet potato... 4 found herself a roommate. very good news indeed... 4 managed to spend $1500 in one hour today. Yes, Dionne, I bought the red couch... 4 on a whim decided i needed to get a massage tonight. i'm worth it... 4 did some really good social work today. days like this, i like my job... 4 i love my friends. thanks so much for all of the birthday cheer... 4 goals for the week: get called a stupid white bitch over and over and over again. CHECK... 4 is off to Napa to drink wine. life is good... 4 just watched the end of the national spelling bee on the dvr. yes, i taped it. don't judge... 4 just read a comment on a friend's wall that said, "life is never hard when you have faith." what a bunch of crap... 4 is missing Brian... so i'm eating comfort food of mac and cheese and watching a the replay of the Giants/Cowboys game on the NFL channel... 4 my roommate is making us stuffed red peppers with tofu while i sit on the couch and drink a beer... lucky me... 4 wonders if there is scientific evidence regarding the correlation of RAGING PESKY HORMONES and GIVE ME CHOCOLATE BEFORE I HURT SOMEBODY... 4 is going on a date with myself to the bookstore. for sure, my idea of a good time... 4 thinks sitting with a woman who was shot in the face and has a bullet lodged in her brain gives a little dose of perspective... 4 walked around the lake, then to the unveiling of uptown, then to zza's for dinner. i hella love oakland... 4 thinks mbuzi choma sounds good... 4 i've never seen my office so passionate and it is all about MJ: is he or isn't he?... 4 if you want to make the world a better place take a look at yourself and make a change... 4 !!Happy PRIDE!!... 4 loud and proud peeps... 4 has a girl crush on mary louise parker... 4 Destination Seattle... 4 glorious time in seattle with soul enriching friendships and lucy cuteness and naps and used bookstores that led to 24 purchases... 4 after a night of drinks, patrick makes the best grilled cheese on the planet... 4 note to self: you are too old to stay out until 3am and expect to feel human the next day... 4 saying "it fell out of my pants" does not help a case of abuse investigations... 4 is MOJITOS FRIDAY!... 4 Friday Mojitos = Saturday Headache... 4 is still laughing about Michelle thinking the song Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard was sung by The New Kids on the Block. Oh Cheadle!... 4 hopes that people will join me in telling the Governor to uphold the parole board's decision to release Deborah Peagler, Norma Cumpian, and Linda Lee Smith and restore funding to domestic violence services! Fucking ridiculous that we cut this much in the budget but are still keeping these women in cages! If you are not angry, you are not paying attention!!... 4 had a fabulous weekend of good ethnic eats, lots of walking, an amazing bollywood concert at stern grove, and lots of sunshine... 4 is Oregon Bound... 4 is sitting here with my BFF reggie and my second mom debi... 4 just ate abelskeivers... 4 oh yeah, got my community dance on last night. jumped around on stage with janessa and did a couple of "exhibition dances" with my sister. Yes, that is really what they call them... 4 is beer a food group? what if it is hoppy?... 4 had so much fun for my 20th reunion weekend. HOWEVER, I apparently did not get the memo that I am no longer in my early 20s. Two nights of 5am = feeling like I got hit by a truck. It is gonna take some time to recover.... 4 first day back from vacation was a training on complicated grief and loss... nothing like jumping right back in. oh, and i'm still recovering from the weekend. case in point: i reached for gum but put it back in my purse because i decided i was too tired to keep up with chewing... 4 is trying to book five flights and am getting confused. that and broke... 4 looking forward to my lunch date at my favorite Ethiopian restaurant. I never tire of Ethiopian food. That and raisins. Raisins are good in everything. And there, my friends, is my culinary wisdom for the day. You're welcome.... 4 I am ready for some FOOTBALL!... 4 thinks it is tragically sad to see a boy who has the same disconnection and hostility behind his eyes that his dad most likely has before he hits the boys mother... it is just so damn hard to break cycles... 4 ten miles of walking = tired girl... 4 believes no one should die because he or she cannot afford health care, and no one should go broke because he or she gets sick... 4 oh oregon. you're breakin my heart... 4 I love me some Dan Patrick. Regarding LeGarrette Blount, "He rushed for more yards leaving the scene than he did during the game itself..." 4 you might be faded and torn and all balled up... but thank you dear twenty dollar bill for magically appearing in my pocket... 4 broke my own record tonight... $78 on ONE bag of groceries at Whole Paycheck... 4 Where you live should no longer determine whether you live... Bono.... 4 thank you, Mr. President... 4 just interviewed an african american boy who has a good family with very limited resources. without prompting, he told me the best part of his day was listening to president obama's speech to schools. when i asked him what he got out of it, he said obama had to overcome obstacles in his life, so maybe he can too. he said he thought the speech gave him inspiration in his life. that's what i'm talkin about... 4 my tummy is questioning the wisdom of breaking a three day no food fast by going bar hopping with friends last night... 4 after months of curiosity and in light of my headache and stiff shoulders, I decided to try out the"massage" in the mall. And when I say "massage" I mean I just paid a Chinese man fifteen dollars for fifteen minutes to beat the shit out of me. Surprisingly, I do feel better... 4 is all about a lazy day of football... 4 just logged over nine miles of jogging and walking. i am A BEAST! :) ... 4 14 days to Palm Springs... 4 Patrick just went and got me a muffin and brought back flowers, and now he is in the kitchen making chocolate chip banana bread while i watch football. i love my gay husband... 4 was holding three year old katie tonight when she looked down my shirt and said, "you got milk in those?" i love kids... 4 it has been YEARS since i've watched the cosby show. i'm on my third episode and honestly, sitcoms don't get any better than this... 4 ever been curious or bored and tried to look up ex'es on facebook only to realize you forgot all of their last names?... 4 it is a very good day to be a Duck!!!... 4 I tried to be classy and refrain from too much pride since I live in Bear Country... but my Oregon Duck shirt I had to wear to work said it all... 4 perhaps I should have packed for Palm Springs BEFORE the multiple mojitos... 4 nothing like a handsome man next to me on the treadmill to keep me running faster and longer.... 4 discovered that the cute little perky blond girl next to me on the treadmill is also a motivating factor to keep running... 4 in three years of investigating child abuse, today was perhaps my worst day ever. Tell me why I chose this profession again?... 4 thinks life is all about context. got hit on by two different guys... one who asked for my number. flattering, right? um, not so much. the dudes were in my building and either collecting their welfare checks or visiting their kids who are in foster care. in either case, i'll take a pass thankyouverymuch. it's all about context.... 4 YELL-OOOOOOOOOOO!!!!... 4 it was an emotionally exhausting but very good day to be a social worker... 4 my dogs are barkin... 4 just got back from RENT. love that play. "the opposite of war isn't peace... it's creation!"... 4 smiled when I heard President Obama participated in parent teacher conferences this morning. Good job, Dad.... 4 i admit to thinking chris collinsworth is hot, and now i'll self disclose and add joe buck to the list... 4 just asked a boy if he had three wishes, what would he wish for. his eyes got big and he said he would wish for superpowers to be able to turn himself into a big ol block of cheese. his second wish was to be invisible when his parents punch and hurt eachother. his third wish was to eat all the cheese he possibly could.... 4 i heart GLEE!... 4 in four conference games, the DUCKS have outscored their opponets 161 to 38. Bring it, Trojans!... 4 Bridge School Benefit Concert = Secondary Contact High... 4 had a dream last night that obama came to my house and we watched a kung-fu movie together. we ate popcorn and he put his feet up on my coffee table (and he was totally comfortable with the hole in the toe of his sock). me and barack obama: that's how we roll... 4 while driving today, i saw a starbucks sign. but instead of STARBUCKS brain registered STARDUCKS. i am fairly certain this is a very good omen for saturday... 4 flying down to LA this weekend to watch the Oregon game with Kel and Shannon, my fellow duck girls. Ducks will be representing in Trojan country. GO DUCKS!!! 4 football is exhausting... 4 TIS SO SWEET!!!!!! 4 if you are looking for me, you can find me under cloud nine... 4 nothing cures a weekend of debauchery like pounding out seven miles on the treadmill... 4 A boy just told me he can't decide if I look more like a Princess or Wonder Woman. Out of the mouths of babes... 4 has had a heavy week. i am not enough and i don't have enough to offer to so many suffering families. my soul is tired and it's just all so complicated. Sigh.... 4 looking forward to the oregon/stanford game tomorrow. GO DUCKS... 4 thinks reheating fish for lunch is bad office etiquette... 4 is MENDOCINO... 4 Patrick is the King (or Queen) of really important information... I've been informed that my telephone number is 415.UGLY.BRA. I'm sure this info will come in handy someday.... 4 wishes i had close local friends with children. i miss really smothered in love kids in my life... 4 just realized that Saturday will be the first day in months I will not wear a Duck t-shirt, and I'm feeling a little anxious about it. Kelli, permission to change wedding attire?... 4 lost in my fantasy league by 9 points... and kept 93 on the bench. painful... 4 is in Destin Florida with the Byrne family. Fudgie + Diane = BFF 4 eva!... 4 Reg is her mother's daughter and already cooking. I am my mother's daughter and am going to support her efforts by drinking wine and watching football... 4 thinks i just ate my way through Flordia, Albama, and Mississippi. Damn you Cracker Barrel and Byrne family road trip snacks!... 4 that was such a fun game to be at. go Mississippi State Bulldogs. MORE COWBELL! Next up: a civil war Oregon Duck victory and ROSES! I love me some college football... 4 is replenished... 4 is remembering my work in Kenya and the issues domestically on this World AIDS Day. Diane also highly suggests the book "28 Stories of AIDS in Africa." Worthy read indeed... 4 IS WEARING GREEN AND DAYDREAMING OF ROSES... 4 is nesting. christmas decor almost up... 4 palms are sweating and the stomach is nervous. heading to the sports bar to self-medicate. I LOVE MY DUCKS!!!... 4 ticket booked to Pasadena.... 4 making brownies. the legal kind... 4 this is the curse of being an extrovert and getting my energy from people after a party. 3am and I can't sleep... 4 i promised myself i would exercise today. does moving from my bed to the couch and watching football by a fire all day count?... 4 is quite proud that i have converted three friends to oregon duck supporters. any others want to join in the fun?... 4 is so appreciative for the work of the Orphan Support League in matching funds for my kiddos in Kenya. lives are being changed and I am so grateful... 4 saturday blues without college football. sigh... 4 caught a nasty little bug. i think it is called a hangover. how did THAT happen??? 4 BACON!!! 4 very unlike me but I feel nervous about a date this evening... methinks it could either mean he's a nice guy with potential or it could mean I should RUN RUN RUN... just in case, i think i'll wear flat shoes tonight... 4 it was the former and i didn't need flat shoes... ;) 4 is OREGON bound!... 4 my mother just saved me. heading out the door to go to the Duck shop and was wearing an orange shirt. ORANGE. At the Duck shop!!! WHAT was I THINKING?? Crisis has been deverted and I am now in a GREEN vest. GO DUCKS and God Bless my mother... 4 33 Degrees. But NEVER too cold for DAIRY QUEEN!... 4 my new Uggs feel like an ultra plush snuggie on my feet. NOT that i have a snuggie or anything. but i do have happy feet... 4 fairly certain that the Misa family is my second family when i am comfortable peeing in a house full of people in a bathroom without a door... 4 is ROSEBOWL countdown!... 4 life IS delicious!... 4 pondering this year... it started with attending the inauguration of President Obama and is ending with going to the Rose Bowl. And there was laughter and heartache and love and growth in between. I am so thankful for opportunites and friends to share the journey with...

Advent Quote of the Day

2009-12-07T00:08:00.000-08:00

You are the partner of her loneliness,
the unspeaking center of her monologues.
With each disclosure you encompass more
and she stretches beyond what limits her,
to hold you.

—Rainer Maria Rilke
German Poet

Thanksgiving Week Vacation...

2009-12-06T17:38:00.001-08:00

Ten days away felt like four mini vacations. Dave and Kelli's wedding in Malibu, seeing friends in Orange County, spending Thanksgiving in Florida, and then driving to Starkville for the Egg Bowl. All of these pictures are on facebook, but since I am still thinking of making a blog book someday, I'm going to include them below.... but I wasn't thinking ahead so they are in reverse order. The vacation was much needed and I came home replenished.

Egg Bowl

2009-12-06T17:37:00.005-08:00

We drove back from Destin on Friday to Starkville. The Egg Bowl was on Saturday... Ole Miss was expected to beat Mississippi State. But oh, hells no, that didn't happen. It was a happy day in Starkvegas and specifically in the Byrne household.

bully the bulldog's got nothin on my duck... Greg giving an interview...

these college kids seriously have a man-crush on Greg...

they call greg "the ninja". you are not going to convince me that this is his "belt". everyone said i am the only one to ever notice this or point it out. um, seriously?

MSU Band

the view from the box... so fun to watch a game here.
student section with the COWBELLS is below so it is LOUD and FUN!

watching warmups on the field... greg giving a presentation on the field

very pretty day...

celebrations...

I LOVE this big screen... costs something like 6.8 million... the fans love it.

Final Score: Ole Miss 27, Miss State 41... HOLLA!

me and Reggie after the game

I love this picture... they just saw one another after the win. So happy.

The Byrne Family Christmas Card Photo. :)

Regina, Greg, Me......... Nick holding the trophey...

with my bestie after the game...

Again... beautiful day...

Celebrating with Nick at Night...

Thanksgiving

2009-12-06T17:37:00.003-08:00

The Byrne family picked me up in Mobile, Alabama and Tuesday and we drove to Destin, Florida for Thanksgiving. We stayed in a condo and Regina made a condensed but very very nice Thanksgiving dinner. The beaches of Destin are probably the nicest beaches I have visited. White sands that are so soft and blue water. Simply beautiful.

OC Friends

2009-12-06T17:37:00.001-08:00

Paul, me, Jen, Rebecca, JJ - Friday Night at the White's

Jen and Shannon.... Kelli and Dave.....

Wedding BBQ (Recovery!)

The Lyons Clan

Love these girls!

and the boys...

Kipp, Me, JJ, Curtis, Kristi, Sarah... After seeing Spring Awakening

Howerton Clan

Sweet Sarah with sweet Peyton...... followed by lunch with GF Julie

I also really enjoyed spending time with Joel and Priscilla and briefly seeing Steph and Madeline. Late night talks with Michelle Willingham are also nostalgic and refreshing. I would never want to live in Orange County again... Oakland just fits as home for me... but I really enjoy visiting and seeing friends.

Wedding Bliss

2009-11-23T17:58:00.000-08:00

A few pictures from Kelli and Dave's wedding on Saturday in Malibu.... a lovely day with a stunning bride and groom, an amazing atmosphere, food & drink, friends, and love love love.

Self Care = Road Trip to Mendocino!

2009-11-15T21:28:00.000-08:00

I've been having a hard time at work lately. Words like burnout, compassion fatigue, and vicarious trauma are all resonating. The cases seem to be getting harder, families are suffering, I am seeing a lot of really horrific child abuse, and I feel powerless to really help when the issues are so incredibly complicated. I feel like a sponge that soaks up the anger, fear, loss, apathy, hostility of others... and I currently find myself full without much room to absorb more. It's been rough.

Self-care is a term that is talked about often in my work, and sometimes it is easier said than done. I think I do a pretty good job in this area... lots of trips throughout the year, exercise, friends, food and drink, sleep, reading, therapy, shop therapy... these things do make a difference.

This weekend was good for self-care. Patrick and Karen and I impulsively decided to cancel weekend plans and to get away. None of us had been to Mendocino, so that was the destination. Very good times. And we even found a sports bar where I could watch the Oregon Ducks beat Arizona State. Blue skies, crisp air, the beautiful ocean, a few Stella's, good friends, and a Duck win... In this moment, all is well in the world...

Halloween Weekend in Los Angeles...

2009-11-15T20:59:00.000-08:00

Oh, let's be honest... nobody cares about Halloween when the #11 Ducks BEAT DOWN the #5 Trojans 47-20. I think they should make THIS a national holiday! :)

The Numbers Don't Lie....

2009-11-02T22:49:00.000-08:00

47 Most points given up in the Pete Carroll era and the most USC has given up since a 48-41 overtime loss to UCLA in 1996.

27 Largest margin of defeat under Carroll (previously was 11 against Notre Dame in 2001; previously largest Pac-10 loss: 7 points).

391 Yards rushing for Oregon, the most USC has given up since 1977 Bluebonnet Bowl vs. Texas A&M. USC had been giving up 79.9 yards a game on the ground.

613 Total yards for Oregon, the second-most in USC history (after 623 against Notre Dame in 1946).

1995 The last time Oregon played in the Rose Bowl. The DUCKS (5-0 in the Pac-10) have the inside track.

1 Time Oregon punted the ball. Every other possession was a score.

Saturday Concert

2009-10-25T23:26:00.000-07:00

The Bridge School Benefit is hosted by Neil Young and aims to raise awareness & funding to education children with severe speech and physical impairments. Musicians donate their time and the line-ups are usually quite good. This year Rhonda and I enjoyed SEVEN hours of music from Sheryl Crow, Fleet Foxes, Gavin Rossdale, Mosters of Folk, Wolf Mother, Neil Young, Jimmy Buffett, Chris Martin of Coldplay, and No Doubt. It was a fun way to spend a Saturday!

"Good Hair"

2009-10-23T23:20:00.001-07:00

Had a fun night with some friends over dinner and a movie. Good Hair is a documentary by Chris Rock about the pressures of beauty with women in the African American community. The movie was equal parts educational and funny. The idea that groups of people are forced into some sort of cookie cutter ideal of beauty to conform to white/euro standards is maddening (I personally love the fro!).... but hanging out with friends is liberating!

Duck Football

2009-10-18T18:26:00.000-07:00

We are currently first in the Pac-10, playing the dreaded Huskies (Huck the Fuskies!) next weekend followed by the huge USC match up on Halloween at Autzen. I've seen this clip of "The Pick" with Kenny Wheaton in 1994 so many times, and I never ever ever get tired of it. In fact, I'm not kidding, it still brings a little tear to my eye. Go get those Huskies, beloved Ducks!!!

RENT

2009-10-17T14:04:00.000-07:00

While I was at work, Jamie stood in line for SEVEN hours to get us $30 box seats to see Rent on Friday night in San Francisco. Not only is Rent an awesome show, but it was also so fun to see it with the original broadway leads (and the stars of the movie), Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp. Good times!

on being an adult...

2009-10-12T22:42:00.000-07:00

one advantage is i can choose to go out
and have a good time with friends on a saturday night...

even when my room is trashed,
and my shoes are piled on the floor.

apparently i can't be bothered with the five extra feet

it would take to dispense my shoes in the closet where they belong. absolutely ridiculous. but at least i'm not grounded...

Kelli's Bachelorette Weekend in Palm Springs

2009-10-05T22:07:00.000-07:00

bride and sister...

...Jen, Kelli, Me... Friends since High School...

Photo's Here

Crisis of Faith Against a Conservative Agenda [Revisited]

2009-09-13T02:31:00.000-07:00

Last November I blogged about gay rights issues contributing to my crisis of faith. It was a hard post to write because I was aware of Christians friends that I did not want ostracize, as well as atheist friends who might think I’m a crack pot fundamentalist for hanging on by a thread to some sort of Christian identity. It is a pervasively difficult topic in my life. The combination of social justice and faith can turn me from an articulate and intelligent woman to a mushy pile of hurtfulness where I feel like I am five and being viciously kicked by the very people who are telling me they love me. I wrote the post and received encouraging words from some and I was scolded by others. But in general the post was personally helpful because talking and writing tease out my thoughts and return me to a place of balance.

The current debate over Universal Health Care brings up similar disillusionment with my views of the religious community. Even though I will always be an outspoken advocate for gay rights, I had an understanding of why this was a difficult issue for many people of faith that read the Bible literally. In contrast, I do not understand why health care as a basic right is such a controversy. Of course there are people of all faiths and no faiths on both sides of the issue, but without exception, Christians are the only people I personally know who are opposed to Universal Health Care.

When I wrote about my views on Proposition Eight, I had people telling me that the Bible is very clear on the subject and there was absolutely no room for discussion. The people who were so angry and adamant in quoting the Bible are largely the very ones that that are now opposed to health care for every American. Interesting that I am not currently hearing Bible verses that support what I can only describe as a classist position. Doesn’t the Bible directly speak to loving our neighbor with action? Doesn’t it talk about “what you do for the least of these you do for me?” Doesn’t the Bible have ample cautions toward the rich in becoming blinded by wealth and negating the poor? Didn’t Jesus rail against establishments of power and sit with the outcast? I am perplexed.

I really don’t mean to make it sound completely black and white. These are complicated times and even when we do have Universal Health Care, there will be bumps in the road. I think there are some very intelligent people on both sides of the issue who are open to good dialogue. There are conservatives that are opposed to big government but do recognize the need for reform, just as there are the democratic blue dogs that are not 100% on board with all that has been proposed. There are no easy answers here. I get that.

But I also get that there has been a lot of hate and fear spewed by the Conservative Right. Glenn Beck, Michael Savage (disgusting), Rush Limbaugh, James Dobson, Bill O'Rilley, Sean Hannity, Ann Coulter… some of these people are comparing President Obama to Hitler and Stalin and using words like dictatorship and fascism. That is a hard pill to swallow in light of the last eight years. They are incredibly effective in evoking fear in suggesting that healthcare and our godless and racist (!) President will be the end of America and all of her freedoms. This type of media is beyond irresponsible and just plain despicable. It is all about sound bites and ratings, and it is terrifying that there are huge markets where people are buying this fear based bullshit propaganda that is about perpetuating lies lies lies that translate to hate hate hate. Oooops, I wasn’t going to get on my soapbox that takes me to a place of anger, I was writing tonight to talk more about my softer feelings.

And here is the truth: My feelings are hurt. Injustice hurts me. It does. In the past week, I saw so many Facebook status updates that were flat out oppressive. One person wrote that he’ll be damned if his hard earned money supports those who don’t just get a job. Another person commented that if people can’t afford health insurance it is their own fault because they don’t save money and they are poor because they are stupid. Several people wrote that this is a non-issue because nobody is refused medical treatment if they are bleeding to death, but at the same time they said there isn’t room for good quality care for their individual rights if the lazy poor receive services too. Even more Facebook friends wrote about their concerns of President Obama forcing their children to drink the Socialism Kool-Aid in his message telling student to take responsiblity and to work hard. I heard blame and fear that presented itself as reactionary hatred. And, again, without exception every single one of these statements came from people who strongly identify as being Christian.

In the past year, I have received public and personal scorn for my political views as it relates to the Christian faith. I acknowledge that I am outspoken so I need to have thick skin in hearing feedback from others. But there is a difference in healthy debate and being a punching bag for people who think they have a monopoly on Truth. I have received personal emails and messages questioning if I am saved because I believe in gay rights, and I have had people tell me they are praying for me because I have obviously fallen off course. I’ve also had a plethora of blog comments that are just plain arrogant and sometimes mean spirited (and I will also admit that telling someone to “suck it” the other day on my Kennedy post wasn’t my best self). It is baffling to me that people feel the need to tell me how wrong I am on my own blog or Facebook without one ounce of being open to listening to a different perspective or to answering thoughtful questions in an attempt to really discuss issues. I’m sure there are examples of when I have tried to engage in dialogue that goes askew, but I don’t ever go on other peoples sites and ridicule them for their beliefs. Again, it is only the Christian’s in my life that have such entitlement. Sometimes I wonder if there is any sort of awareness of how comments from strangers or people I barely know in the name of God are damaging to not just my faith, but my personhood. It can feel like a soul wound and it really wears on me.

I don’t think the personal criticism of others would impact me if I had a basic foundation of faith. But the truth is, I really don’t. It was lost years ago and I am tired of feeling that I never measure up in a Christian paradigm that I’m not even sure exists beyond our own minds. I understand Christianity to be a covenant, and I am wondering how I get out of this covenant I signed on for nearly twenty years ago. Does one really just walk away, or is there always a nagging hope of being met in a meaningful way by this person called Jesus? I was going to a church that I really liked because of their emphasis of justice and mercy. I think I had moments of experiencing Goodness, but it was really through the specific senior pastor that knew me and related to me gently. Once he left, the place felt vacant and I have been unable to return.

I suspect I will always be a person that has a spiritual hunger. But maybe after all of these years I need to look broader in order to dig deeper. Perhaps I would find more of a connection to perceived truth in another faith tradition or in universalist movement or in a church that views the New Testament as a social gospel. Tomorrow I plan to try a church as a last ditch effort to connect to the roots of my Christian heritage. I have not regularly attended an Episcopal Church, but St Paul's is within walking distance from my house. I like their inclusivity on their welcome page as an oasis community and I notice they have a new Rector coming that is a person of color. I am drawn to this and am going to check it out.

Of course I know this will not all be solved in a day. But I am going to try to find a community of people who work with under-resourced individuals and groups not out of pity or obligation, but just out of a basic sense of humanity. I am going to seek community that fights for equality and justice for all people, regardless of race, gender, age, sexual orientation, and yes, even religion and economics. I am going to look for a world view that doesn’t blame the victim and seek to hoard resources. I am going to be intentional about finding others who are not ruled by fear. I have these friendships in my life now, and a few of my humanistic/agnostic friends love amazingly well. I have yet to really connect to a social justice and spiritual community that are integrated. With a skeptical mind and heart, I’ll dip my toe in the waters once again. If all else fails, I will return to the church of Bono... I've watched this clip many times and each time these sentiments resonate as my true religion.

I have written a lot, and I’m not sure if anyone is still reading. It doesn’t really matter, this was helpful for my own process. I want to say that if you are a close friend and we have differing views, my strong feelings are not directed to you. I have several friends that do not share my political views on a variety of issues, and relationship ALWAYS trumps differences. My close friends with differing opinions are not the one leaving me comments that reek of arrogance… my friends who disagree with me love me regardless, and vise versa. So really, this isn’t for you. Also, I know I have Christian friends that are politically progressive... and all I can say is please keep fighting the fight and I just really wish you lived near me. I do not have many local friends that are spiritually connected and I miss that.

If you want to post a comment, feel free. I like comments! But if you feel led to tell me how wrong I am or if you are tempted to flog me with the Bible then I have a challenge for you: Restrain Yourself.

It was a good space to articulate my confusing feelings. If you are still with me, thanks for listening.

Bill [Squared]

2009-09-05T22:49:00.000-07:00

Bill Maher interviewed Bill Moyer regarding the moral imperatives of universal health care. I thought this was a very good piece and worth a few minutes of your time. Bill Moyer is sharp.

Health Care Reform Satire

2009-09-05T21:04:00.000-07:00

John Stewart is funny... and we must stop the madness at Kenyan citizenship! ;)

On Being Liberal

2009-08-28T23:21:00.000-07:00

"I believe in human dignity as the source of national purpose, in human liberty as the source of national action, in the human heart as the source of national compassion, and in the human mind as the source of our invention and our ideas. It is, I believe, the faith in our fellow citizens as individuals and as people that lies at the heart of the liberal faith. For liberalism is not so much a party creed or set of fixed platform promises as it is an attitude of mind and heart, a faith in man's ability through the experiences of his reason and judgment to increase for himself and his fellow men the amount of justice and freedom and brotherhood which all human life deserves."

John F. Kennedy, 1960
(The whole speech is quite good...)

The Treadmill, Ted Kennedy, Embarrassing Moment, and a Dirty Dirty Word.

2009-08-26T22:38:00.000-07:00

I have a hate/hate relationship with exercise, and my negative attitude at the gym is often exacerbated by watching Larry King on CNN. Occasionally I enjoy the program, but overall I think Larry King is a self-promoting ego-maniac entertainment whore who interviews Hollywood Nobodies that only provide one word answers. Harsh? Perhaps. But I cannot endure one more interview with Kate Gossling, Speidi ("Can we change their nickname to Herpes because they just won't go away?"), or the sight of Joe Jackson. To avoid such frustration, one might suggest that I download some podcasts or good music on my virtually empty Ipod. Um, yeah, suggestion noted.

Despite these strong feelings, tonight I bonded with Larry. Yes, I would venture to say that tonight we even shared some warm fuzzies with one another (I know he has has been married a zillion times, so don't get it twisted... and, yes... I do know this is a one sided connection, but just like when I was five, I still like to think the people on the other side of the screen are aware of my existence as I patiently wait for the beautiful Idris Elba to step out of the television and into my life... surely we would live happily ever after).

ANYWAYS, Tonight I was sucked into CNN and their coverage of the late Senator Ted Kennedy. I watched both LK and AC360. Oh, and in the spirit of being positive, I have nothing bad to say about Anderson Cooper... he's also hot. Also for the record, two hours on the God forsaken treadmill = 1030 calories burned. If I had the energy, I would do a happy dance. Go me.

Here is my point. Apparently I got so sucked in to the Ted Kennedy coverage, I actually thought I was at one of his speeches. I had watched over an hour of some of his greatest moments and I was feeling very connected to his ideology. Then it happened. The news showed a clip of Senator Kennedy talking about health care reform at the DNC in 2008. While endorsing Barack Obama for President, Senator Kennedy said:

"And this is the cause of my life -- new hope that we will break the old gridlock and guarantee that EVERY American -- north, south, east, west, young, old -- will have decent, quality health care as a FUNDAMENTAL RIGHT and not a privilege."

And at this exact moment (while surrounded by oodles of people on the treadmill at the gym) I LOUDLY let out a WHOOP and YES while clapping my hands WITH GREAT ENTHUSIASM not one or two, but THREE times. I was in the moment, peeps. Several people stopped and stared. Embarrassing. If my face wasn't already purple from the treadmill, I would have surely blushed. I guess being out of shape has its advantages.

Speaking of Universal Health Care, Ronald Reagan had a lot to say about this subject. He talks about the dangers of a specific program supported by Lyndon Jonhnson in 1961, claiming that the inception of the program would pave the way to socialism [the sight of this dirty little word is supposed to make you drop to your knees in paralyzing fear...].

Reagan says that socialized medicine "is a short step to all the rest of socialism, to determining [doctors] pay and pretty soon your children won’t decide when they’re in school where they will go or what they will do for a living. They will wait for the government to tell them where they will go to work and what they will do."

Reagan encourages Americans to write to Congressmen. He ends the speech by saying, "If you don’t, this program I promise you, will pass just as surely as the sun will come up tomorrow, and behind it will come other federal programs that will invade every area of freedom as we have known it in this country. Until, one day, as Norman Thomas said we will awake to find that we have socialism. And if you don’t do this and if I don’t do it, one of these days we are going to spend our sunset years telling our children and our children’s children, what it once was like in America when men were free."

The program that Ronald Reagan was adamantly fighting against in order to save generations of freedom?: MediCare. According to Reagan, freaking MEDICARE was going to be the demise of America and her freedoms and lead to not only socialism but perhaps even communism [shiver].

I am so OVER fear based scarcity theories that aim to protect the elite and oppress the poor.

Over it.

Ted Kennedy had many of his own personal issues. But what a Champion for human rights in creating public policy that seeks to serves the many rather than the few.

And in my humble opinion, we should all care about the many, not just the few.

Reunion Friday

2009-08-18T20:18:00.000-07:00

Our class met at the Wine Terrace at the Festival... it was really a lot of fun to see old friends. We shut the festival down at 11am and then shut the local bar down at 2am. You would think the evening would end there, right? Oh no. Bruce wanted to sing karoke but it was too late, Ethan got a ticket from the bicycle police for urinating on the side of a building ($500 fine!), we walked to McDonalds without realizing we didn't have a car and the drive thru was the only thing open at 3am, I had to pull John out of a car of strangers (there were two attractive woman in the car and I was later called a cock blocker), we tooled around Junction City eating $35 of McDonalds and checked out the old stomping grounds, the boys peed on the baseball field, Brandee drove across the grass of the field, we dumped our trash on Aaron's porch... All of this to say, it was pretty much like we were in high school again. The exception is, I was NEVER the designated driver in HS (couldn't be trusted to not drink), and on Friday I was the one to drive people home and back to the Hilton. See, I HAVE grown up! Even so, I wish my mama enforced a curfew... I wasn't in bed until 5am...

Elise, Kelli, Me, Katy

Marcie, Aaron, Me, Diane

Kelli and Bryan

Tina, Regina, Ethan................. Tina, Marcie

with Jack Adams... my tennis coach who is now 78 and he is still active on the courts! Love this man.

Reunion pictures tomorrow...
still recovering and too tired to post tonight.

Trump Card

2009-08-12T20:10:00.000-07:00

Just to give a few of you a fit of jealousy...

Beautiful Oregon

2009-08-12T19:30:00.001-07:00

I went hiking with my brother on Saturday up to Spencers Butte,
and on Sunday my sister and I did the 8ish mile Silver Falls hike...

Saturday:

Sunday:

Country Roads...

Grief and Loss

2009-08-10T22:32:00.000-07:00

it can't be checked off a to-do list.

he has moved on.

and even if i'm not "in love"...

i still love him.

and i miss him terribly.

i miss my friend.

i am broken.

and really not sure how i will manage.

but i will.

in the words of my sister-in-law:

grief and loss sucks ass.

period.

i've been replaced.

it hurts.

it really hurts.

Hilarious Must Read Blog

2009-08-06T23:58:00.000-07:00

In honor of the Junction City Scandinavian Festival that I go home for most years, this is a totally hysterical must read blog. Besides my mother and sister, I think I only have two JC blog readers. Kara and Shannon, you must check this out. It is from Karen Burniston, formerly Karen Fagerland, Class of '88. Karen lived one block away from me and we spent a lot of time together as children... this makes me roll...

"Growing" Trends

2009-08-03T18:25:00.000-07:00

Patrick and I walk around the lake once or twice a week together. In between him listening to my rants about our dumbass Governor or my tirades against stupid people for not supporting Universal Health Care, we pause to take in the scenery. And by scenery, I mean hot men. While appreciating creation in its many forms, we have been noticing a growing trend that neither of us can support. It is a trend that can turn a hunk 'o burning love into a mugshot on a side of a milk carton in a snap. It is the moustache. And it is tragically making a comeback. Seriously... Ewwww.

Meghan and Josh

2009-07-26T01:24:00.000-07:00

Now Hear This KT...

2009-07-23T22:14:00.000-07:00

I will admit that when I saw this picture
I had an instant pang of jealousy...

and the green eyed monster REALLY came out
when I saw this picture:

because I pretty much think everyone would agree that it shoulda been like this...

So what did I do with my fit of jealousy?

I called Bunch.

We lamented about how life is not fair.

And we talked about how I could get you back.

And here is all I've got:

I've met Syndey.

And I'm going back in August.

So There.

Sarah Lyons... Don't think you are off the hook.
But you've met The Bird so I've got nothin on you...
Yet

Supreme Court

2009-07-14T15:52:00.001-07:00

Since I will never be on the Supreme Court... I'll say it for all to see. In some cases, a Latina Woman can make better decisions for the greater good. Period. We take ourselves with us wherever we go, and if the white male that leans to the right thinks they are free of all bias, then that would be one definition of unchecked privilege. Of course I think people can be intentional about their own awareness of subjectivity in "following the rule of law" (a term we've heard so often in these proceedings). But if there really was a way to interpret the law in a manner that is free from ideology and subjectivity, wouldn't there always be agreement and no dissent with the Elite Nine? Without the intentionality of realizing that worldview is experienced through a lens of race and economics and opportunity and personal history, I fear the ignorance more than the reality.

EDIT: A Facebook friend included this on my wall. I think it is excellent. I wish I said it like this...

The tactic of congressional conservatives, of portraying Sonia Sotomayor as a reverse racist for her 'wise Latina' comment, has so many holes in it that you could make a Swiss cheese sandwich with it. First of all, her statement about the wisdom gained by members of oppressed and discriminated-against groups didn't have anything to do with race. It had to do with belonging to oppressed and discriminated-against groups. The thesis that if you have that background and you overcome it, the experience builds character, is unexceptional. It would be true for poor whites in a wealthy non-white country. It isn't about race as an essence but about the experience of being discriminated against on an ascriptive basis. -- Juan Cole

Seattle

2009-07-09T13:38:00.000-07:00

My few days up north wasn't about what we did... spending time with Edie is always about just being. I feel so known when I am in her company. I really love the whole Finnell Fam.

Lucy is a HUGE fan of reading and can be entertained for hours looking at books. I love how intent she is here reading in the car. It would be fun to see what is going on in that two year old brain of hers. It is a good thing she does like books, because Edie is my all time favorite book friend and she took me to several used book stores (including Value Village which is like a Goodwill that had such great finds). I came home with 24 books (and a new Eddie Bauer backpack for transport) for less than $80.
It feels like Christmas.

BTW... Oliver Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout is a must read
(as is Abide with Me by the same author).

Edit: I just had drinks and nibbles with two friends. Both of whom HATED Olive Kitteridge. I will say that they are dead wrong. Decide for yourself... :)

This is Just Wrong.

2009-06-28T16:54:00.001-07:00

Oh Yes, Cheez-It Flavored Lip Balm!!!

King of Pop

2009-06-26T11:56:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to bed with Smooth Criminal playing in my mind. I had watched about three hours of Michael Jackson videos on MTV. After all of these years, the music is still just so good.

While I was drifting off to sleep, I was fantasizing about how wonderful it would be if MJ was seeing the world celebrate his life. If there is a heaven, it just seems appropriate that he would be free from his own personal torments in the human body and would get a brief glimpse of how he positively impacted others.

I hope MJ can look way back to see my ten year old brother, eagerly awaiting Thriller to come on MTV so he could record it on the archaic tape recorder and then play it back over and over again. I hope he can see Phillip Ward in his red parachute pants and Cash Reynolds with his shiny white glove, both mimicking the moon walk in the halls of our junior high school. I hope MJ can see the memory that was high drama at the time but is now funny of little Kenny Misa who in spite of being grounded planned to watch the premier of Thriller at Scott's house, only to scream at his mother that he hated her when she said no. I hope he can see kids in the neighborhood spending hours making up dance moves in the garage and I hope he smiles seeing the crotch grabs and thrusts that were just too much for the parents on the block.

And while MJ is looking down and smiling on my small little white town, I hope he can raise his gaze and see that at that same time there were black and brown children having the same experience.

He was bigger than just music. He was an icon of culture and he moved countries and classes and races with his art.

I am sure history will remember his tormented life, his destructive choices toward self and others, his erratic behavior. Michael Jackson is a man we have admired and pitied. We have certainly never understood him. I have always thought of him as a lonely man. His art imitates his life with many songs of having a loving heart but never feeling enough. He seemed to have it all while having nothing. The song You Are Not Alone has been playing in my mind since I heard of his death. I think he was a complicated man, and in the midst of complications, I hope history also remembers him as a man who created joy, changed culture, and brought people together.

I do think Michael Jackson will live on through his art. And I hope he can now be truly free.

.hold on.

2009-06-25T09:13:00.000-07:00

My son, Kevin sent this to me this morning.

I miss Kenya.

My Sister

2009-06-14T23:00:00.001-07:00

Summer 2008

It is her birthday today.
I talked with her on the phone tonight.
And she amazes me.
She is such a good mother.
A loyal friend.
An honest soul,
Who is learning to live her own truth.

She has had a difficult year.
She is a teacher.
And she was layed off.
They call it getting riffed.
I call it getting fucked.
She doesn't have a job.
But she has faith.
A lot of faith.
And I admire her faith.
I admire my sister.
Doing the best she can.
With humor
Patience
Courage
Trust.
She is such a good person.

I do admire my sister.
Happy happy birthday.

I Heart Patrick

2009-06-14T21:48:00.000-07:00

Lovin my roommate...

Today we went hiking with some of Patrick's friends:

Last week I sat on the couch and drank a beer
while he made this dinner:

Yum.

And, he watches So You Think You Can Dance with me while we both compare notes on the hot guys...

I do miss Brian. But Patrick has been not only a roommate,
but a friend.

I am grateful.

Friday Night

2009-06-12T22:31:00.000-07:00

I have had a really really long week. And, truth be told, my week was only three working days. I called off on Tuesday because I legitimately needed a mental health day, and I already had Wednesday off. But the three days I did work exhausted me. This week alone consisted of an infant with a broken arm and a bruised face, a toddler who fell out of a second story window, a 14 year girl who is now herself a mother, a woman who years ago was shot point blank in the face by her boyfriend and has a bullet lodged in her brain, and a broken and beat down woman who desperately wants to get out of her domestic violence relationship but is too broken and beat down to be empowered enough to do so. This week I encountered anger and apathy and confusion and terror and desperation and hostility and distrust and powerlessness and sorrow... all without much hope. It is all very heavy and I am tired. I really do like my job and on most days I know I am good at it. But I also have stints where I am aware that the work can wear on the soul. It was one of those weeks.

It doesn't help that my personal life is complicated. Brian and I are trying to figure out how we can still be in each others life. The transition is murky and I am deeply conflicted.

So, tonight I had a ME night.

I came home and layed on the couch and closed my eyes. I took several deep breaths and I listened to silence and drifted off into a peaceful twenty minutes of sleep. I forget how much noise wears on me and just a little bit of intentional silence goes a long way to replenish and reset me. Then I went to the bookstore. It would be more romantic if I said I went to a store like Powells in Portland, but I went to Borders. My date, you ask? It was my 25% off the ENTIRE purchase coupon. Oh yes Mr. Coupon did put out at the end of the date by saving me $25. I spent nearly two hours in Borders, I was perfectly quiet, and it felt good.

BTW... Only in Berkeley would you find an adolescent son reading aloud to his mother a book about sexual positions. Only in Berkeley is the person at the register a transgendered female... but the noteworthy part isn't that she is biologically male, it is that someone needs to tell her that now that she is identifying as a woman, she could really use some deodorant. Only in Berkeley are there two fathers spread out on the floor in the children's section, phonetically sounding out childrens' books to their sons and daughters as a means of learning their own English (loved this).

I ended up buying books based on authors I am enjoying. Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson (because Gilead was amazing), A Timbered Choir (poetry) and Remembering by Wendell Berry (because I loved Jayber Crow and Hannah Coulter), The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene (because The End of the Affair was a very solid read), and The Road by Cormac McCarthy (because Edie said so).

Off to curl up on my crisp clean sheets and under my down comforter that feels like safety. There are friends on pages waiting for me...

Top Three of 09...

2009-06-10T21:21:00.000-07:00

2009 is nearly half over and it has passed mostly in a haze.
The creative juices have yet to return in blogland.
But I continue to read.
And these are my top three of this year thus far.

I want to be friends with the characters in all of these books.
I. Love. These. Books.

You will too. Check 'em out.

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

i read this yesterday and today... OMG i loved it...

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

spiritual self: a poem

2009-06-01T08:01:00.000-07:00

Last night I gave a star a message for you.

On my knees I begged her to tell you

how much I pray that you turn my stony heart

golden with your radiance.

I bared my chest to show my wounds and

asked her to tell you that if I sway this way and that

it's because I need to calm the infant of my heart,

for babies sleep when rocked in their cradle.

My Beloved, my heart was yours always

nurse it like a child, save it from wandering.

How long will you keep me in exile?

I will be quiet now but even in my silence

my heart will long for the glance of your grace.

~ Rumi

Staycation Highlights

2009-05-30T20:39:00.000-07:00

I am still not feeling the creative blog juices, but here are the highlights of my week. I very much needed a week off from work, and it was actually nice to stay at home and have people come to me. Karibu Oakland! :)

Saturday Recap:

Golden Gate Park with Sara

Sunday Recap:
Napa Wine Tasting with Sara and Patrick

Monday Recap:
SF Tourist Day with Sara and Brian

Tuesday:
Gisela was my amazing intern this past year and I took her to see Wicked as a graduation present. It was incredible!
Laura joined us for drinks after the show.

Wednesday:
While Mary Ellen was celebrating her 50th bday in Arizona, FOME (Friends of Mary Ellen) worked all week and created a beautiful Zen garden for her as a birthday suprise.

Thursday:
Becca, Steph, and Madeline come from So Cal.
Madeline is lovely.

Friday:
Mary Ellen's Surprise Party.
She was appropriately overwhelmed by all the love...

Saturday:
More fun with the Shubert/Methany Clan.

..Good Times..

2009-05-25T22:06:00.000-07:00

Sara returns to Oregon tomorrow morning. We ended our fabulous weekend with an all time favorite cheeseburger grilled onion no tomato at In-N-Out Burger (why, oh why, are these not in Oregon?... we agree this is almost criminal...)

Weekend photos can be viewed here.

Next up on my week off... WICKED tomorrow night with Gisela... and Steph and Becca coming from Orange County at the end of the week with MADELINE. I'm loving my staycation! :)

Tourist Monday

2009-05-25T21:46:00.000-07:00

Brian, Sara, and I went to San Francisco today and toured Alcatraz and the City (via a double decker bus). Yes, I was one of those people for the day. It was too foggy for good pictures of the city tour... but here are a few from Alcatraz.

Sunday in Napa

2009-05-24T23:28:00.000-07:00

Good wine and even better company...

Seriously, I love my friends.

And even if you are not here in this moment with me, that means you, too.

Kesho: SF tourist stuff... stay tuned, again.

Saturday with Sara

2009-05-23T23:15:00.000-07:00

My dear friend, Sara Kiley is visiting from Oregon for a few days.
We went to Golden Gate Park today...
I am a big fan of the Japanese Tea Gardens.

Tomorrow: Napa Valley Wine Tasting... Stay Tuned.

:)

2009-05-19T14:03:00.000-07:00

The pessimist sees the glass half empty,
the optimist sees it half full, and
the Peace Corps volunteer says,
"I could take a bath with that".

thanks for the humor and truth, Sarah... :)

Saturday Hike

2009-05-17T23:00:00.000-07:00

six plus miles in ninety plus degree heat...
but there was time for a beer and lemonade break so all is good...

Free Debbie Peagler

2009-05-03T23:34:00.000-07:00

I have participated in a lot of volunteer projects, and my short stint with the Habeas Project was one of my favorite volunteer experiences. On three occasions, I went to two prisons in Chowchilla and interviewed women who were serving time for crimes related to intimate partner violence. I will admit that I was initially nervous to sit with a woman who has been caged for nearly thirty years. I expected the woman on the other side of the table to have the attitude of Who the Fuck are You. I had many assumptions, and they all proved to be wrong. What I encountered was women who shared their stories of pain and powerlessness and trauma mixed with a strong spirit of survival and a small glimmer of hope. After conducting 2-3 hour interviews with individual women, I wrote a report for the purpose of recruiting pro bono attorneys to represent these women. Years later, I still think of these tender and beautiful women.

Prior to 1992, there was no expert testimony regarding the effect of intimate partner violence (otherwise known as Battered Women's Syndrome) in trials. A law was implemented allowing this testimony, but it was only applied for crimes after 1992. That meant that countless women were still locked up... sometimes for more than 25 years. In 2002 a law went into effect stating that convicted survivors could petition to submit a writ of habeas corpus to challenge their original conviction.

It is time we stop blaming the victim.

It is worth repeating...

It is time we stop blaming the victim.

Debbie Peagler is one of these women. She was imprisoned in 1983 and has served 26 years behind bars. Debbie has a tragic but familiar story. She met Oliver Wilson at the tender age of 15 and she thought he would care for her. He was initially very nice (law enforcement calls this the romeo pimp verses the guerrilla pimp) but he later turned on her... Debbie was physically and emotionally tortured and forced into prostitution. She tried to escape but was met with violence. In 1982 she learned that Oliver molested her six year old daughter. Once again she tried to escape but Oliver "came after her with a shotgun and a band of armed men. He was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon, but the police quickly set him free." This is so often the case... victims behind bars and the perpetrators of violence walking the streets. Debbie turned to two men for help and they had a violent altercation that ended in the death of Oliver Wilson. Debbie was charged with conspiracy to commit murder and first-degree murder and was sentenced to 25 years to life in prison. Her story of the effects of torture were never told.

It is beyond time to stop blaming the victim.

Debbie was recently diagnosed with lung cancer and she has months to live. She has a parole hearing on May 28th and her attorneys are working hard for her release. If you are a resident of California, I urge you to write a letter in support of freeing Debbie Peagler. You can read more of her story here and here.

Letters can be sent to her attorney at:

Nadia Costa
Bingham McCutchen LLP
3 Embarcadero Ctr #1800
San Francisco, CA 94111

A sample letter can be reviewed here.

It only takes a few minutes.

Really, this is a tangible way to practice justice and mercy.

Attitude of Gratitude

2009-05-01T10:48:00.000-07:00

now.

right now.
in this very moment:

WHAT
ARE YOU
GRATEFUL
FOR?

seriously...
take a deep breath
empty your mind
let gratefulness seep in
and leave a comment.
i'm interested...

I'm Okay, You're Okay...

2009-04-29T16:43:00.000-07:00

I had many soul enriching conversations with Katie and Rebecca this past week. One topic that has stuck with me is the discussion about how toxic comparisons are. I don't usually dwell on comparing myself to others... my general world view is we are all doing the best we can with who we are in any given moment. But I know there are times when thoughts creep in my mind that leave me thinking I am either better or worse off than another person. And I will admit that the majority of the time, these passing thoughts are related to body image. I am learning to be more graceful with myself. I really believe that 95% of body image issues are mental and less than 5% about the scale. For example, I have exercised for the past three days and I feel great. In this moment, I love my large frame and my big thighs (if I recall correctly, Anne Lamott lovingly refers to her thighs as 'the aunties'.) When I am not active I definitely compare myself to others and feel "less than" what culture defines as beautiful. But I would rather be in this space where I call bullshit on these definitions where people never seem to measure up and just embrace all that I am. In case y'all need reminding, I am one sexy lady.... ;o)

Weekend Recap

2009-04-26T22:08:00.001-07:00

I've really been looking forward to Katie and Rebecca's visit and it did not disappoint... how good it is just to be...

These girls love their coffee...

Friday Night

Rebecca and Patrick... my new roommate who is hella cool

Katie and me

Saturday Night

QOL

2009-04-24T09:40:00.000-07:00

Quality of Life.... wine (three bottles to be exact), cheese, olives, mushrooms, apples, chocolate... really good friends and amazing conversation... this is what I have needed. Let the weekend fun begin.

... Updates ...

2009-04-21T21:57:00.000-07:00

Good News...

Y I put some information on my blog about Riley, the daughter of my old friend, Jenni. Riley was not gaining weight and it was eventually discovered that she had a tumor on her brain stem. She immediately underwent brain surgery, and the surgery was a huge success. The difference of her gaining weight is remarkable... I just love Riley's new chubby cheeks! Just check out the before and after picture I lifted off Jenni's blog:

Sad News...

Y Regina's dad passed away last week. He died with his family by his side and I completely trust he felt loved because his family is Love.

Y My sister-in-law, Jessica lost her mother two weeks ago. Kim went into cardiac arrest while in the hospital for a completely unrelated matter. It was unexpected and I have been very mindful of Jessica and my brother, Brad.

It is What it is News...

Y Brian moved out a little over a week ago. I'm sad about that. But the good news is I did find a roommate. He moved in on Sunday and seems like a cool guy. It is a little strange to find a roommate online, meet them for twenty minutes, then decide to share living space. But I have a good vibe about it and am grateful to stay in the apartment.

Y I'm still sick. It has been has been difficult to process such complicated feelings when I am physically just worn out.

Y On a lighter note: I finished the Twilight Series. I was thoroughly entertained and I won't apologize for it. :)

My Sister's Poem

2009-04-21T21:33:00.000-07:00

I've always loved my sister's writing. I sent her the "Where I am from template" and this is what she came up with. I still have an idea of someday making a blog book, and I want this included... I'm such a nostalgic soul.

* * * * *

Where I’m From
By Leah Davis

I am from Alder street to Birch, on through Cedar, past Deal. Juniper and Maple were closest to my heart; although, I always liked the long clean line of Vine Street--straight on through to the other side.

I am from a city of trees. I lived long years amongst Laurel leaves between the Murphy’s and Sheffield’s: sunflowers and hydrangea bookend our home. Rattlesnakes in formaldehyde were nestled on a ledge, so if I were to carry the picked cherries to the wine cellar, I’d have to fly past my fear. Dry desert and animal skulls on one end, and snippets of conversations about quilting flanked the window by my room on the other side, waking me on Saturdays, where Ethel and Thelma talked too loud of thimbles and thread.

I am from a block of rock gatherers--smooth stones polished and displayed on rock mounds, where I would slip in and out of fences, stealing treasure and rubbing riches between my forefinger and thumb. Agates glistened and thunder eggs were prized possessions full of promise handed down by the kings and queens of my imagination.

I am from the large ancient heater, a prehistoric beast which lived and bellowed in our living room, where we would huddle and gather around, naked and shivering, warming our towels as we watched Rambling Rod in the morning before school. Where the house creaked and moaned and Brad would sit and wait on the front steps until someone came home. Where the front porch had a cubby hole with a window we could hide in and peer out. Where the attic was transformed to bedrooms, but was cold in the winter and hot in the summer—especially when the garage door was opened.

I am from a pack of hiders, gathering around our block—no neighbor’s house was off-limits in seeking out our safety zones. We rode our bikes a marathon; we pushed the red wheeled wagon over the Oregon Trail, taking turns who would steer and who would push; we sought out the wise owl who slept during the day in the safety of the city limits, way high up in the tree. We laughed and hid amongst the grape vines.

I am from the land of carrots, where we picked them too soon and heard our father’s wrath. Where we fed the unclean carrots to the wild horsey that lived in our home and would occasionally ride us around on his back. Where flowers bloomed abundantly during my youth in absolute bright vivid hues, and we would catch the huge, fat bumble bees in baby food jars, make holes in the lid to be kind, and shake them up to be mean.

I am from the place where parents let their children run free to eat spam and defecate on the front lawn. Where insistence was a virtue and persistence often won. Where the hat was left behind. Where the store was the place you just had to lift up and show them what you were taking. Where panty liners became air fresheners that could, if stuck to the wall, would help make it a better place. Where nails sticking up from the middle of the bed was nothing to bring attention to.

I am from a land where I was famous in my own mind. Where we played games of singing ever before American Idol, and danced routines before Dancing with the Stars. “Summer Lovers happen so fast”…tissues torn in two for dramatic effect. My sister would hold up the sign to rate my performance. I am from disco balls and ACDC on eight-track. Big hair was backcombed and shellacked; bright pink lip stick and Jody Watley earrings with bell bottom jeans. MTV came onto the scene and I danced and danced in our living room on 6th street. Tennis and romance books led me through high school. Safeway saved me from cliques. Foreign travel was always in my mind. I would stomp grapes in France. I would eat olives in Greece. I’ve always lived abroad in my own mind.

I am related to the Snyders and Shaddocks, to the castles and the fox, to the meditative quality of the smooth glass surface of a lake, to the sunset and a silent moment, to the moon’s craters crooning out a melodious song of longing and heartache. I am from a poet’s glove, Walt Whitman sings the electric blue, Emerson sings of the spirit of self, and I am moved into the heart of nature: solace and silence bring a soul’s pitch into perfect balance.

I am from a wild band of gypsies, Welsh and European too. I am from a Lutheran tribe, from a Cherokee nation, from an Irish jig, from a Dionysian slumber to awaken in the sunlight of the spirit. I'm from a Sacred Heart born at Sacred Heart and I am from the polka, Scottish, from Swedish pancakes and land of the Scandinavian Festival.

I am from the Davis clan of debate and Hunt clan of women surviving their men—strong and independent. I am from a stubborn yet resilient family, a strong and a forgiving group. I am from a clan of pack leaders; wolves at heart.

I am related to a family strong and true, who defines itself in words and through actions. I am related to a loyal band of people who stand in truth and walk in light. I am Lloyd’s Daughter; Carole’s Daughter, Diane’s Sister, Bradley’s Sister, and Janessa’s Mother.

I am from a land of possibilities. I am evolving. I am learning to dream again. I am learning to listen more and plan less--to move forward without expectation, but with hope. I am strong. I will not live in fear. I will not be afraid. I will live life in all its glory to the beat in my heart. I will continue to be amazed. I will make room for the future. I will cherish the present, and I will know who I am. I am Leah Marie Davis the first, and I am from love.

Power Shopping

2009-04-19T21:52:00.000-07:00

I had one hour before closing to spend $250 at Crate and Barrel in order to get 15% off the couch I also purchased. I unloaded the goods and snapped a picture for two reasons:

1). I want to show my mother my happy yellow dishes, and
2). Get ready for cocktails, Rebecca and Katie! :)

Where I Am From

2009-04-14T16:46:00.000-07:00

I followed Bunch and Lisa... here is my version. Leah, you are the poet of our family, I'd be interested in your version. Join in on the fun, blogging peeps! The template is here.

*************

Where I Am From

by Diane Davis

I am from shag carpets, Atari and Ms. Pacman, macaroni and cheese, one shared bathroom, the Brady Bunch, and hey hey hey it's Fat Albert.

I am from the small white house with the large walnut tree in the backyard, from the attic that my father converted to my very own bedroom, from the wood paneling and avocado green counter tops in the kitchen, from the dreaded chore of picking up dog poop, from the dip in the street that was oh-so-exciting on roller skates, from the neighbors carports and grape vines that were perfect for a game of hide-n-seek.

I am from the rows of rhododendrons in the fall, the tulips in the spring, and the roses in the summer. I am from the driftwood from the ocean, the snow in the mountains, the cool waters of the lakes, the warm sand dunes under my feet, and the raging rivers that pointed to how powerless I really am in ways that continue to make me feel both humbled and grateful.

I am from trick or treating to the local Grange. I am from the daffodil drive and sticky buns with orange juice. I am from the warm summer nights at the softball field. I am from the pet parade with dressed up children on decorated bicycles walking their decked out animals. I am from dancing in the Scandinavian Festival, having crushes on the Norwegian boys, and eating abelskeivers and fry joes. I am from High School Spirit Week. I am from Christmas Eve candlelight services and the anticipation of Christmas morning. I am from paper routes and beef jerky, from girl scouts and birthday parties. I am from parks and recreation events as my parents method of babysitting. I am from my bedroom walls covered with Matt Dillon, C. Thomas Howell and Duran Duran. I am from camping trips and fishing, from campfires and burned marshmallows. I am from babysitting, picking strawberries, mowing lawns, and hoeing bean fields. I am from the smell of mint.

I am from fighting for my rights to always have a voice. At every age and at any cost.

I am from a mother who does not like to cook, who enjoys game shows, who loves God and her children and grandchild, and who generously gives of her time. I am from a father who after all these years continues to miss his own father, who hunts and fishes and trains dogs and loves the outdoors, who is both well read and naturally humored, and who would sell the shirt off his back to provide for his family. I am from an older sister who often left me behind, who covers her mouth when she laughs, who gravitates toward romance, and who has an amazing imagination. I am from a younger brother who never made many waves, who has an abundance of useless trivia stored in his brain, who describes his childhood in ways that remind me of Huck Finn, and who always gives his best.

I am from interrupting or never being heard, I am from functional chaos.

I am from the tiny Lutheran church that was converted from a barn. From Babe Golden who thought she was the choir director but couldn't carry a tune. From my confirmation ceremony wearing a big pink skirt and a bow on my head. From kissing the pastor's son who was also confirmed with me.

I am from the hours spent making up dance routines with my sister to the Greece soundtrack and to the music of Loverboy, from the hours spent playing a made up game with a small red bat and a tennis ball with my brother, from the hours spent looking at the JC Penny's catalog and reworking my Christmas wish list over and over and over again. I am from boxing gloves as a form of sibling conflict resolution. I am from sitting on my dad's lap while watching Little House on the Prairie. I am from skinned up knees, tears, and trying again. I am from TEN MORE MINUTES when my mother tried to wake me up for school, from the shame of being a bed wetter, and from laying bare bottomed on the carpet in front of the archaic heater after my shower. I am from school teachers that believed in me: Mr. Schroeder, Mr. Dubrowa, Mr. Adams, Ms. Hobson, Ms. Houston. I am from tennis, very much from tennis, because on the court: I. Was. Enough.

I am from a small town eighteen blocks long with root beer floats and onion rings. I am from jumping on a train to start fresh in California without knowing one single person. I am from a church where I was lost and found and lost again. I am from ooodles of senseless but wonderful dorm memories. I am from a small village in Africa where everything slowed down and where I felt truly alive. I am from living in a vibrant and diverse community where everyone is welcome just as they are.

I am from family stories that get better over time, even if the accuracy might be lost. I am from blood running thick. I am from humor and laughter smoothing out rough edges. I am from relationships that continue to grow and where there is grace in doing the best we can.

I am from heartache that has taught me, joy that has nourished me, privilege that has spared me, and love that has formed me.

I am from the imperfectly perfect.

Quick Trip to Oregon

2009-04-06T21:03:00.000-07:00

I spent the past five days in Oregon, mostly hanging out with Regina and her family. I expected to be very sad for the majority of the trip. Regina emailed me a week ago saying hospice expects her father to survive until Easter. Of course there were parts of the trip that were sad, but I also had a very nice time. It was fun to celebrate Ted by reliving stories and telling old jokes. Debbie is wonderful in her care of him. And I always love spending time with Regina, my best friend from childhood. There is a lot of love in this family.

i like this...

2009-03-31T21:34:00.000-07:00

I used to sit on the banks with a raft and watch the water roll lazily by. One day I pushed my raft into the shallows of the water and found the water moved swifter than I thought. My raft was actually a boat. Then, after some time, I rowed my little boat into deeper water. There were great storms, mighty winds, tremendous waves, and sometimes I felt so alone. But I have noticed my little rowboat is now a mighty ship manned by my friends and loved ones; and beautiful calm seas, warm sunny days, and nights filled with comfortable dreams always double after a storm. Now, I could never go back and sit on the bank. In fact, I search for deeper water. Such is life when lived.

BD Gulledge

Ethics

2009-03-30T21:48:00.000-07:00

If you saw a person shoplifting, what would you do?

Would you report the person to store management?

Or would you think it is none of your business
and look the other way?

Does it matter what they were stealing?

Or are there absolutes in what's right is right
and what's wrong is wrong?

Today I witnessed some shoplifters in Safeway.

And it wasn't a minor candy bar.

One man was putting as much loot down his pants as possible.

And the women had a large bag that she was quickly filling.

The guy bought one item so they could avoid looking suspicious.

I was a little stunned.

And wasn't sure if I should say something.

I tend to think in terms of Justice.

If it means anything to you, I am an ESFJ on the Meyers Briggs.

And I'm really heavy on the "J".

So the justice part of me thought I should say something.

But I paused.

Because the people were not stealing alcohol.

They were stealing baby formula.

Baby formula.

Where is the justice in that?

Dark Places

2009-03-26T23:57:00.001-07:00

It is easy to write a blog post in an empowered state of mind. My last post felt like that. I shared about my relationship with Brian coming to an end, and in the moment of writing I was in a good space and feeling a measure of hope.

Writing in a state of vulnerability is much more difficult. Grief and loss is a fluid process, and my perspective of the breakup quickly transitioned from bittersweet to devastating. It is all hitting me that this is real and I am completely overwhelmed that I am losing my best friend and my stability. Last night I cried so hard I started to hyperventilate and I became light headed and thought I was going to vomit. I ended up crying myself to sleep curled up next to the toilet on the bathroom floor. I am having a hard time sleeping. Multiple times a day I find myself staring off into space. I easily lose my train of thought. I have new wrinkles under my eyes. I feel incredibly vacant.

I am not saying any of this for pity or to make you feel uncomfortable (although I am well aware that this much disclosure does make some of you squeamish). I am saying it because the desperation and loneliness and fear of never being loved again is just as real as the hope and liberation and empowerment. It is true that I am strong and I am weak. I am expectant and I am empty. I am brave and I am terrified. And it is true that the roller coaster of emotions are often all or nothing rather than integrated and balanced.

I feel the need to insert here that I have a lot to be grateful for and I know there are many who have suffered tragedies that I cannot comprehend. Disclaimer noted. But comparing pain is a way to minimize or avoid my own truth and I am not going to do that. I will own my pain as a way of walking through it and not around it. I know I know that heartbreak is a universal experience, yet it also feels profoundly personal. Profoundly so.

Writing this moved me to a place of better balance... who knew the blog would be free therapy?

Mercy

2009-03-26T22:55:00.000-07:00

I went to our Ash Wednesday service last night. My motive wasn't to go to church, it was just to have something to do. Brian is staying elsewhere and it is absolutely unbearable to be in our apartment. It is big and empty and incredibly lonely without him. So, I went to church.

Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday was not a fit for my current space in life. Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent is. The service was contemplative. It was about sin. About failure. And of course it was about love and redemption.

The pastors of the church were all available to put the sign of the cross on our forehead. There were about ten different stations and most people were just going to the pastor closest to them. But I needed more. So I sat back and watched and selected the one that just seemed the most present and I was immediately drawn to one specific pastor. Not only was she marking foreheads, but she was reaching out and touching people while looking them in the eye and giving them her blessing. God's blessings. She didn't seem to be aware of the line... it felt as tho she was ministering to ONLY the person right in front of her. Just watching her, I felt compassion and grace.

Of course this pastor was on the other side of the room. But it didn't matter to me. I just needed to be touched. I needed her to look at me. I needed her arm on me. I needed mercy.

So I made my way to through the people to that side of the room, and I received my mercy. She put the sign of the cross on my forehead, put her hand on my arm, and spoke gentle words. I immediately started to cry. And she just stood there and let me. There was no moving on to the next person, I felt her own sense of comfort with my emotion. What a gift it was to have somebody just stand with me. In my sadness. My failures. My loneliness. My fear. My loss. If even for a moment, what a gift.

I often think of the kind of person that I really want to be. Sitting with people in all of their humanity is an example of what seems important to me. But tonight I was (and am) the person that needed the touch... physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Tonight, I received.

blog post written but not posted on 2/26

Newsy News

2009-03-20T21:56:00.000-07:00

If you follow my blog, you know I am usually prolific with my entries, yet lately the blog has been dry. I've been in crisis for the past month, but I'm starting to find some light, and I think I'm ready to share. A few of you have been so supportive on email and phone calls, but since I am a person that doesn't keep many secrets, I'm ready to be authentic even in blog-land. If I can't have an honest voice here, then it defeats the reason of why I enjoy the process...

8 A month ago, Brian and I broke up. We had a weekend of crying and talking and crying... the issues on the table were not at all surprising to me, but the outcome was. We have been in counseling and our therapist encouraged us to slow down the decision making process. We tried. I was a mess and literally had a hard time breathing for about a week, but then I started to agree with some of his assessments of the 'deal breakers' of our relationship. The details are not important here, but we each have them. After five years of togetherness, we calmly and gently and gracefully agreed to part ways. We are both just so sad. Because the truth is, there is a lot of love in our relationship. Brian is truly my best friend and I still love him. This is not a conventional break up. We are still living together and are comfortable around one another. I am going to try to keep the apartment and find a roommate and when I do, he will move out. It might be my own level of denial, but I still very much picture Brian in my life. Time will tell. I have been through every stage of grief and loss... from denial to bargaining to anger to acceptance. The stages are fluid and I am very aware that I'm just beginning this emotional process.

8 This morning I had surgery. When my doctor told me months ago I had benign polyps on my uterus, she casually said it would be a good idea to get them removed. I thought it would be a simple procedure where I drive myself to the doctors office and get it taken care of in 30 minutes. Wrong. It was the real deal with an IV and a cold and bright surgical room. They told me they were going to give me a local anesthetic so I would be foggy headed but aware of them in the room. Well, I am totally a cheap date because I was OUT COLD for the entire thing and only woke up in the recovery room. I have never had surgery before... it is a strange feeling to know that ten people were in a room working on my guts and I have absolutely no awareness. I know that Kaiser gets a bad wrap on many levels, but every single person was incredibly kind and competent... I was free from anxiety and felt very safe. Brian also took great care of me today. He took the day off work, made me homemade chicken and black bean soup, he rubbed my feet, and lovingly checked in on me all day (I said this isn't a conventional break up...). In this moment I feel great.

8 It is true that grief and loss is a fluid process. I might be a mess tomorrow, but tonight I feel hopeful. I feel hopeful that I get to be the person I am meant to be. I have always had passions for wanting to travel, see the world, and possibly work in another country again. Brian does not share in these passions. So I'm already planning. I'm saving more ambitiously and I'm hoping to go back to Kenya with a co-worker for a month in October 2010, and to China to see the Chaney's (and Larisa) for a month in 2011. I'm also excited about the little things this year... Elise coming with the kids tomorrow, Rebecca and Katie coming in around my bday, visiting Dave and Edie (and LUCY!) in May, possibly a family reunion to see my 95 year old grandmother in July, my 20 year reunion in August, visiting Regina and fam in October or November, going home to Oregon for the holidays in December.

8 I am not loving my job right now. It is not horrible, but it is just okay. We have new management and the moral is very low in my entire department with poor communication and systems that feel punitive. I think my threshold for bullshit is low because of my personal life, but I also think that working for a bureaucracy can feel dehumanizing. It is for that reason I want to continue to work hard to provide services to families while keeping a perspective of the powers that be that seem to enjoy their own sense of power that often defies common sense. There are so many social workers that seem to be part of 'the walking wounded' and I don't want to be one of those. It is for that reason I need to practice good self care.

8 Regarding self -care: Taking trips throughout the year is part of that. Engaging in community and developing/maintaining meaningful relationships is another. Turning off the television and computer and reading a book touches on care, as does keeping a clean home. Working out and eating healthfully... it is a struggle but it improves my energy and view of self. Being kind to myself and laughing often is important. Some of these things I do well, but others I have let slip. I'm ready to get myself back.

This was a hard post to write, but I feel safe being so honest because I know I am loved. Thanks for listening. :)

Diane

Barbie Birthday Facilitates Kenya Reflections...

2009-03-09T22:10:00.000-07:00

I was just reminded that today is Barbie's 50th Birthday. This little tidbit of knowledge makes me remember so many stories of Lydia, my closest friend in Kenya. Here are some musings I wrote long ago. I doubt these thoughts hold much meaning to you all, but these memories make me nostalgic and gooey on the insides...

Lydia is my best friend. She is a single mother and lives with her daughter, Stacy, on the other side of my duplex. Lydia has always made me feel welcome and wanted, and sometimes I make the trek into rural areas to spend time with her wonderful family. She and her family are my home away from home.

Lydia comes from an educated family as her father is a retired doctari and her mother worked as a nurse. I was with the family for the days of mourning when Lydia's mother died. Her mother's body was laid on an open bed for three days so people could cry and sing and wail and pray and mourn. It was odd to walk by a dead body over and over to get into the front door of the house. We slept on the ground and had fires with signing and dancing throughout the night. The body was finally placed in a wooden casket with a glass cut out so her face could be seen. I remember feeling ashamed that I couldn't take my eyes off the fly that was manically buzzing on her mother's face and unable to escape through the glass. There was a very long service, then Lydia's mother was placed into the ground on the family compound.

Lydia works as the Public Health Technician and inspects schools, butchers, and dukas in the village. She does not like her job, and she calls her bosses "green snakes," a term that always makes me feel included since it shows she is comfortable enough in our friendship to drop pretense and to be real. She applies for continued education every year through the Ministry of Health, and she had been denied the opportunity four years running.

Every night I make my dinner and take it to Lydia and Stacy's home. I am usually eating pasta, couscous, or eggs, mixed with whatever nboga I have at the time, such as onion, tomato, or green pepper (I love the Swahili for green pepper: pili pili ho ho). I eat a lot of pasta, a dish Lydia had never tried prior to my arrival. Every night I eat my own dinner and every night Lydia pushes their food toward me and says, "Diana, karibu chakula." It is a nightly ritual where I state she just saw me eat a large dinner and I explain I do not have room left to eat her food. She is always hospitable.

I do eat Lydia's food a couple of times a week. I have learned not to ask if I can eat dinner with her early in the day because she goes and buys meat to cook, an item that only privileged people with money can afford to eat. I do not care for village meat as the dead animal hangs in the hot sun for days on end. Plus, I never know if I am going to get a bite of meat that is incredibly tough on the jaw, or if a cubed piece of pure fat will land on my plate. I have learned to ask Lydia if I can eat with her early in the evening when it is too late for meat and when we will enjoy a basic meal of ugali and sukuma wiki, traditional food that I am starting to actually enjoy.

Lydia has a television. There are three American shows that fill the television lineup: The Parkers - not funny but I watch. The Bold and the Beautiful - Stephanie needs to stop meddling in the affairs of her son who is anguished over his choice between his lover Brooke and his doctor wife, Taylor. And, WWF Wrestling - Oh yes, I am well versed in the slimy antics of Vince McMahon, and I know the tricks of Chris Jerico, Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Under Taker, and Triple H. Don't even get me started or I'll be forced to use my smackdown skills. Besides my relationship with Lydia, these three shows are the primary supplements of her cultural education of the USA. I am just. so. proud.

I feel very comfortable with Lydia, and I ask her thousands of questions about the culture of Kenya. She also has many questions about America that I find amusing. For example, she was looking at photos of my family and friends and she asked if Mickey Mouse is a real animal. When she viewed another picture, she was shocked to learn that snow came from the sky and not from the cold hard ground. Sometimes I wonder if my questions to her about Kenya are as naive sounding as her questions to me about America. It does not really matter; we are safe for one another.

While we talk, Stacy is usually coloring. In a handshaking only society, I will admit that I desperately miss physical touch. So, each night I ask Stacy to scratch my back. She scratches for a few minutes, then she tells me she is tired by deeply sighing and pathetically repeating nemechoka, nemechoka. Realizing the importance of my own need, I ignore her request to stop and I tell her to keep scratching. It is another ritual that occurs on a nightly basis.

Sometimes when I am in my house, I can hear Stacy playing outside. She is by herself and trampling through the garden while practicing her English. Over and over she says, "how are you" and "scratch my back."

My mother sent Stacy a blond hair Barbie. I asked Lydia why I had not seen Stacy playing with the doll. Lydia she put it away so it would not get ruined. I told Lydia that the doll was for playing with, so she gave it to Stacy. As soon as Stacy held the doll with both hands, she immediately lifted her shirt and started breast feeding Barbie. As she was doing this, Lydia had questions. Such as: "Diana, in America do all woman have long legs and large breasts like this Barbie lady?" I answered the question while watching Stacy. When she was finished feeding Barbie, she put the doll on her back and secured it with her sweatshirt, much like a woman who uses a sarong to secure her baby. Stacy then went out to the shamba and began weeding. It was a fascinating thing to watch and I take note that children mimic what they see in all cultures.

Keep mimicking, dear Stacy, and you will do well in life. You have a beautiful mother who is curious and kind and intelligent and loyal and loving. Yes, keep mimicking and you will thrive.

Boys

2009-03-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I volunteered to work at a school... I promise it was a community service project through my church and NOT through the court system. I spent about six hours painting a boys bathroom at an elementary school. Part of the prep work was scraping hundreds and hundreds of spit-wads off the walls. Seriously, do you remember spit-wads on bathroom walls? I don't. I'm assuming it is a gender thing. It is one more item on a long list of oddities that I do not understand about boys...

Pray for Riley

2009-02-28T13:00:00.000-08:00

Sweet Riley and her family are in need of your good thoughts and prayers. Riley is the one year old daughter of my friend, Jenni. Riley has been having problems gaining weight and the doctors have been treating her for acid reflux. It has not worked. On Friday the family went to Stanford and learned that Riley has a small tumor on the delicate part of her brain stem. She will undergo brain surgery on Monday. You can learn more about Riley and her amazing family on Jenni's Blog.

UPDATE: Thanks for the emails and facebook messages and text messages asking about Riley. It sounds like the surgery went well. Jenni writes that they got 90% of the tumor and Riley is doing well. They are updating their blog... check that out for more information!

Quote of the Day...

2009-02-26T07:48:00.000-08:00

Let him that would move
the world first move himself.

Socrates

***

2009-02-24T17:24:00.001-08:00

I removed the post of Bunch.... I didn't think she wanted to be the first thing seen on the blog since I haven't had anything else I am ready to post. I'm sure the picture will resurface someday.

I am also just so aware that I need my friends and support right now. Perhaps my dream below was for a purpose. I am lost in darkness and need you all as a compass. Light the path, dear friends. Just by being present, you do light the path.

Gratitude.

2009-02-18T13:07:00.001-08:00

It is interesting that dreams can feel so powerful in the moment but then they don't translate well when retold. With that said, my mind working last night in my sleep is something I am thinking about today.

I went to bed sad last night. For the reasons I mentioned with being frustrated with not feeling well, coupled with so many potential terminal illnesses with friends and their families. Also, I had a conversation last night over Facebook chat that turned real and not chatty, and it made me very aware of my own Stuff. Again. I know we all have brokenness, but I don't like mine... anyone wanna trade (at my discretion, of course)? I do struggle with embracing all that is good with messiness and uncertainty. It is hard to trust The Process.

So last night I had a dream about being in a church with my closest and trusted friends. I was going on a trip, and that trip was sleep. I gave you all a compass and said it is important because when I get lost, you all can find me. And I knew you would. I knew I was safe and didn't need to spend any energy on self-protection. I could be purely vulnerable in my pursuit of Rest without the fear of annihilation. The compass you held was clearly about my internal state verse the external environment. And even in my dream, I felt blessed to not be walking this road of life alone.

So thanks, dear friends, for being a compass. Thanks for holding a mirror that reflects so much goodness. The comments and support I received just on this blog about being discouraged were really touching. We all want to Know and to Be Known. And in the midst of feeling like life is heavy, I'm also very aware of many of you lightening the load through your good thoughts, prayers, friendship. I am blessed and I am grateful.

Quote of the Day...

2009-02-18T13:04:00.000-08:00

I'm liking today's quote:

Be faithful to that which exists within yourself.

Andre Gide

Discouraged

2009-02-17T15:42:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am on day five of being sick (again) and here is the evidence of how out of it I am. Last night I used the restroom and when I washed my hands I noticed there was no lather. It wasn't soap on my hands, it was toothpaste.

In general, life feels heavy right now. We are only six weeks into the new year and it feels like six months. I've been sick half of 2009.

The news of Regina's dad went from bad, to better, to worse. The cancer has spread to his lymph nodes and Regina says they are now giving Ted about three months. They are using hospice care services, Reg says they are fantastic, and I'm so glad they are getting support. But I'm sad for everyone involved. Please keep praying.

I have another good friend who was super close with her brother growing up. He married and had two kids and was a picture of health. Then he had a sudden onset of severe mental health issues. He lost his marriage, his family, everything. He hears voices, is terrified, and lonely. Just last week he tried to take his life. I feel so bad for him, this isn't his fault. I am also very aware of my friend who has to hold all of this. She is a caretaker and I know it is hard. There is no justice in such debilitating illness.

A co-worker and friend just found out that her sister has a bad form of leukemia. She is in her early 40s with two children. She is undergoing aggressive chemo and my friend and her brother are hoping they are a bone marrow match.

And when I'm already feeling down, I spent a hour reading this blog about a family who thought their little girl had ear problems and days ago she died of cancer. She was a beautiful one year old. And even though I don't know these people, my heart hurts for this family.

In all seasons of life, there is much to be grateful for. But it this moment, it all feels a little heavy.

Three Dozen for Me, A Little Felt for Him

2009-02-13T23:20:00.001-08:00

Brian sent me thirty-six beautiful long stem roses today.

He is a thoughtful romantic.

And I think I'll keep him.

Here is what I gave Brian for Valentines Day.

Oh yes, it is a felt finger puppet made in Mexico of Dave Grohl.

I bought it off ETSY for my Foo lovin man. Rock on!

Love Will Prevail. Someday.

2009-02-11T14:42:00.000-08:00

Until then, I will keep advocating...

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

Compliment (?)

2009-02-09T11:39:00.001-08:00

I'm entering week three of working out at the gym three or four days a week. I've only lost four pounds but I can feel my body changing a little. I've had three people tell me that I look really good today. One person said my face looks thinner. One person said I have the glow of either getting a little somethin or its the glow of pregnancy (maybe so to the first and no to the second). But here is my favorite, from the third person:

Her: You look really different today.

Me: Really?

Her: Yeah. You look.... well... pretty.

Me: Um, thanks (?)

What are people thinking?

My Drug of Choice

2009-02-08T18:35:00.000-08:00

It's gotta be book shopping...

You know that feeling of anticipation that keeps you up late at night and into the morning? I had that feeling last night. Once a year, I patron an event that completely excites me. What, you ask? The used book sale at our church. Really, I'm not kidding. Donations are accepted in January and the sale is in February. And there are some really good finds. All paperbacks are fifty cents and hardcovers are one dollar. I made sure we went to the morning and not evening service to hone in on the goods. This is the loot for all of $17.00.

Dream Analysis...

2009-02-06T15:44:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a very vivid dream. I was on a football field watching the Indianapolis Colts warm up before a game. I was chatting with Peyton Manning while he was warming up his arm. I told him that my husband collects footballs and if I could get an autographed football then I would have given the ultimate gift. Peyton agreed to autograph a ball. Even in my dream state, I was uber excited for Brian. While Peyton was signing the ball, he asked what my husband’s name was. I said “Lloyd" and then I spelled it for him... L-L-O-Y-D. People, that is the name of my FATHER. I woke up totally disturbed and had a hard time going back to sleep. Seriously, it doesn’t get much more Freudian than this…

Saturday Night Mishap

2009-02-01T09:21:00.000-08:00

First, let me say I was VERY tired and nearly sleeping when this incident occurred last night.

My right arm is super sore from lifting weights on Friday.

In my groggy state, I thought Icy Hot would help.

I went into the bathroom and massaged the Icy Hot on my arm.

I washed my hands.

With Soap.

Because you don't want to have Icy Hot on your hands and then accidentally touch your eye.

That would be bad.

Then I went to the bathroom again before returning to bed.

While emptying my bladder (how does one say that tastefully?),

I noticed a hunk of Icy Hot on my arm.

I wiped it off with toilet paper.

Did I mention I was tired?

I forgot to get new toilet paper.

And I used the Icy Hot toilet paper, you know, Down South.

On my hoo-ha.

Bad move.

Let me be clear.

It doesn't get Icy.

It just gets Hot.

Very hot.

And not in one of those lubricating warming kind of ways.

Oh no, this was not a "warming sensation."

It was a hot tamale on my coochie.

Trust me when I say I immediately started dancing.

While rushing to the sink for water water water.

I would not recommend this.

Unless you are groggy and can't wake up.

Icy Hot on your genitalia will most certainly wake you up.

Consider yourself informed.

A Serious Post

2009-01-28T10:17:00.001-08:00

If you are a follower of my blog, you have read about Regina, my best friend from childhood. Well, I am writing a serious post to ask for your thoughts and prayers for her family. We just found out that her dad has cancer in his pancreas, liver, and spreading to his bladder. Obviously, the prognosis for cancer in the pancreas is not good.

This is all so sudden and completely unexpected. I don't think her dad is even 60 years old.

Ted is both quiet and extremely funny. When we were in the 5th grade, he used to trick me with answering the phone "Abby's Pizza" and I would say "sorry, I have the wrong number" and hang up. Over and over he got me on this one. Regina says he is using humor to cope with this, but I know there has to be fear too.

If you are a praying person, I would appreciate the prayers. If you are not a praying person, I would appreciate the good thoughts and positive energy. Her dad's name is Ted, mom is Debi, the kids are Regina and Kenny, and there are four grandchildren.

I have felt a part of this family for over 30 years. All I know how to do is to be constantly mindful of them. It's all just so very sad and I appreciate your support on their behalf.

Happy New Year! I Want to be an Ox!

2009-01-26T13:30:00.000-08:00

My year got off to a slow start. I wasn't motivated and I failed to make any resolutions that I would most likely break a week later. Then I got sick and was even more out of it. Up to the inauguration, I was not enjoying 2009. Two weeks ago I decided that the Chinese New Year would be my New Year to a start fresh.

Today is that day. Happy New Year!

It is the year of the ox. There are many useful characteristics of the ox. The ox is a tolerant, courageous, strong, and hardworking animal. The ox is patient, tireless in their work, and capable of enduring any amount of hardship without complaint. When they have set their mind on something it is hard for them to be convinced otherwise.

This year I will be that ox.

three and a half minutes...

2009-01-25T22:24:00.000-08:00

The time it will take for my mother to call Brian to see if I am telling the truth when I say I cooked breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, and ironed a weeks worth of dress shirts for my guy. Go ahead, mother. Call him. I'm telling the truth.

Oh, and Diane has not been abducted. It is really me...

Four More

2009-01-23T22:25:00.000-08:00

multiple posts to follow...

Inauguration Thoughts

2009-01-23T21:55:00.000-08:00

I'm back in Oakland, and just finished watching the inauguration on the DVR. Maybe that sounds strange since I was there, but I must say that it made it SO MUCH MORE REAL that I was really there after watching it and hearing the CNN commentary! So fun.

I briefly blogged about my inital thoughts about the positive energy of the day. Here are other random thoughts from January 20th:

~ I was waaaaay back (behind the Washington Memorial). That was absolutely fine with me. God bless those who got up at 2am and stood in the cold... they deserved to be closer with basically the same view of a different jumbo-tron.

~ I felt nervous when Rick Warren prayed. I was afraid it was going to be exclusive, rather than inclusive. I breathed a little easier when he said, "Help us, oh God, to remember that we are Americans, united not by race or religion or blood but to our commitment to freedom and justice for all."

~ Very few people booed when Bush or Cheney took the stage. It was a pretty classy crowd.

~ I couldn't decide if I liked The First Lady's dress. I did like Aretha's hat.

~ Thirty five words can be hard to say.

~ President Obama rocked that speech. I could listen to it over and over and get something different from it every time. Watching it live, I was impressed that Obama was clearly a strong voice, addressing the entire world and not just the celebrating crowd.

~ I kept wondering what was going through former President (ya!) Bush's mind. I think he was more than happy when it was over.

~ I felt bad for the poet. Once President Obama finished is speech, the crowd wanted OUT. I stayed and listened and I thought that poem was amazing. I will most likely post it at some point.

~ It was really, really cold.

~ Why is it so hard to remember which is older, Malia or Sasha?

~ I loved loved loved the sea of faces in the crowd. There was diversity in age, ethnicity, economics, religion, language. And we were united.

~ And, finally, I was completely aware of the privilege of being a part of such meaningful history. I was and continue to be grateful.

Inauguration Pictures

2009-01-23T21:14:00.000-08:00

The view in front of me

Standing at the WWII Memorial, looking back at the Lincoln Memorial.

Lincoln

A hopeful crowd

Swearing In

Cheering for Obama

Nice message

God Bless America...

Barack Wrote Me A Letter (Again)

2009-01-22T18:00:00.000-08:00

I know it is so silly (seriously), but I love seeing an email from President Obama addressed to ME ME ME. I got one after he won the election and before he took the stage, and I cried. I got this today, and, I cried. I freely give you permission to substitute your name in order to feel special too. It will be interesting to see how the Internet impacts his presidency (the goals being transparency, communication, and participation)... the website is worth checking out...

__________________________________________

Diane --

Thank you for being part of the most open inauguration in our nation's history.

As we begin the work of remaking America, we must draw on the common hopes that brought us together this week.

I'm counting on you to keep the spirit of unity and service alive.

You can visit http://www.whitehouse.gov/ to learn about our plans to bring change to America, and how you can get involved in the work ahead.

We face many challenges. But we face them as one nation.

And we have seen, time and time again, that there are no limits to what we can accomplish when we stand together.

Our journey is just beginning.

Thank you for all you do,

President Barack Obama

January 20, 2009

2009-01-21T16:23:00.001-08:00

Inauguration Day 2009.

It is a day that I will remember.

We left the house at 8:20am and had no problem getting to the Mall Lawn by 9:40am. We found a spot right in front of the World War II Memorial with two jumbo-trons projecting excellent sound and overlooking a fabulous view of the Washington Monument. There were not many people, so I told Tim and Sarah I was going to walk around and come back before the inauguration began. I walked around the Washington Monument and returned after thirty minutes. In that short amount of time, the crowd was filled in and I never found my friends. I was on my own the rest of the day. I was not bummed, nothing was going to spoil the mood of the day.

There is a lot I can say about the actual program. I'll blog about that at a later time. But what stood out to me the most is the energy of the place. Between one and two million were present and not one person was arrested. Every single person was just so... nice. I walked and talked and ate and drank with people, never getting their names but feeling like we were connected to something that was much bigger than the moment, while very much being in the moment. There was hope in the air. And the hope was not about Obama, alone. It was about me. About you. About my neighbor. I did not hear one conversation about the Messianic Obama that will save us all. I heard people talk about the hope of leadership that will empower each and every one of us to make a difference. Pick a passion and act. That was the energy of the day.

Really, I do have more to say. I think I need more time to process. And I'm with friends who are offering me food and libations, so that is my current priority. Here are a few pictures to hold you over...

My only picture of Tim, Sarah, and Milan before we were separated...

Three Days and Counting...

2009-01-17T21:28:00.001-08:00

Reframe

2009-01-14T21:12:00.000-08:00

A couple of my co-workers belong to a gym that is very close to work. I went and checked it out, thinking it will be worth trying since the fees are a mere $10 a month with no contract. So I walk down the stairs, into the basement of the mall where the gym is housed. And with each step down into the dungeon, it smells more and more like a thousand dirty socks in the gym locker of a junior higher on the last day of school. During the tour, I said something about the horrible stench of sweat that was coating my lungs due to the lack of ventilation. My bubbly tour guide responded with, "That isn't the smell of sweat, that is the smell of fitness." Nice reframe.

Eyes Everywhere

2009-01-12T00:14:00.000-08:00

Blogging is obviously public but also quite personal. I don't usually think of who reads my blog, beyond the handful of my faithful friends. **

Imagine my surprise when a friend on Facebook asked if I knew the words of my blog were quoted in the New York Times regarding the civil unrest in Oakland. Isn't that crazy?

The article can be viewed HERE.

Oh, the author of the article says I have COMMON SENSE. You bet I will be making a copy of that and sending it to my father...

** I looked at my blogger stats last week and it says most people stay on my site for twenty-three seconds, so I'm not even sure if my friends are reading my words. Some of you are so busted.

Cardinal Sin

2009-01-11T00:26:00.002-08:00

I received a scornful email at work yesterday afternoon saying I am so busted and asking if I knew what I did wrong that morning...

ALLEGEDLY, I was the last to use the bathroom.

ALLEGEDLY, the toilet paper roll was empty.

ALLEGEDLY, there was no spare in the cupboard.

FACTUALLY, Brian figured all of this out in a time of, um, need.

I am claiming innocence.

Violence in Oakland

2009-01-08T21:39:00.000-08:00

KT and Heidi wrote that they didn't know about the civil unrest in Oakland, then my mom called and said it wasn't on their news either. I assumed this would make the national media on some level, but I guess not. Based on my limited understanding, here is my take on the situation...

Around 2am on New Years morning, a 22 year old named Oscar Grant was shot by the BART Police (BART is the bay area rapid transit system). It was caught on tape. It appears that the unarmed Oscar Grant was lying face down on the ground with three police around him, when one police pulled his gun and shot him close range in the back. This in and of itself is obviously highly controversial. But what made it worse is that it took days to arrange for the shooting officer to be interviewed for the investigation. The news stated that usually officers are interviewed within ten to twelve hours of shootings in order to avoid cover ups, yet six days later the officer still was not interviewed. He was scheduled to meet with investigators yesterday, but instead of showing up, his representative attorney arrived and handed in the officers resignation.

It was then that people took the streets. News footage showed fires in the streets, cars being torched, shops being looted, riot police throwing tear gas and pushing people back. This was within one mile of our home and there were five helicopters overhead for hours last night. 120 people were arrested.

It is such a complicated issue. It reminds me of Dr. Edgington's class in college about the 1992 Los Angeles Riots. We had to write a paper on what we thought the causes of the riots were using a variety of the social science theories, and every person in the class highlighted different elements they thought were most influential in leading up to the riots. I remember talking a lot about frustration aggression theory... shake a two liter bottle of coke long and hard and when the top is loosened, it blows.

There is a lot to be frustrated about in marginalized communities. Poverty. Joblessness. Crime. Lack of resources. Substance abuse. Inadequate schools. Inadequate medical care. No grocery stores. Too many liquor stores. Racism. Basic survival trumping attunement and attachment. Police profiling. Power structures. Feeling invisible. Hopelessness. Learned helplessness. Sure, there is personal responsibility, but there is also deeply profound systemic problems that keep people oppressed. So last night the coke bottle blew on the streets of Oakland.

Part of me understands the frustration that turned to aggression. A man was shot point blank in the back and it appeared that it was not being responded to in a timely manner in part because the victim was a young black man and the shooter was a police officer. Excuses were made. Officials said things like "maybe the officer thought he was reaching for his tazer gun" when the officer was not even interviewed. To date, I still do not think he has given a statement or been brought in for questioning. But I also feel my own frustration in watching the news to see the misguided energy of looting shops and torching cars. Those shop owners and car owners have nothing to do with the problem. It seemed like a party of destruction when many of the participants did not know what the party was about.

I have heard people say that the Rodney King video only showed the beating and not what lead up to the beating. I find this irrelevant; he was on the ground being beat over and over and over again with clubs. I don't care that he was not a model citizen and has since seen the inside of prison walls. The same is true in this case. Oscar Grant was young black man with a criminal arrest history. He probably was screaming at the police to get the fuck off him and calling them names. I don't care what led up to it, serving and protecting is not shooting an unarmed man laying face down on the ground in the back.

With that said, you could not pay me enough to be an Oakland Police Officer. No way in hell. They have a better retirement, but we make similar salaries... double it and I wouldn't even consider the job. Just last week I heard a gun shot right outside our apartment window. It was late at night and I was on the couch. It was a single shot that made four car alarms go off. I called 911 because it did scare me, and moments later there were two police driving very slowly with their lights completely off. Who signs up to drive to a place where a person has a gun, not knowing what they are in for? There were 123 homicides in Oakland in the year 2008. That is one every three days, not to mention the other types of crime. Who signs on for that? I do have a great deal of respect for the position.

So, it leaves me wondering what causes a police officer to make a snap decision that will end his career, not to mention another man's life. From the limited view of the tape, it does not appear the officer was afraid for his own life.

I wonder about the impact of vicarious trauma. Police officers (and social workers) are secondary witnesses to really hard circumstances everyday. None more so than Oakland Police. I wonder how absorbing trauma everyday impacts professional roles (not to mention personal lives) on the job. I work with social workers who abuse their power and no longer see the individual person. Social workers who refer to real people as useless crack heads. I wonder if they have absorbed too much trauma and do not even realize it. This is the analogy of the frog in the pot... you have heard it. If you dump a frog in boiling water it will jump out. But if you put a frog in cold water and slowly turn up the heat, it will cook to death. I have seen social workers and police officers who are boiled frogs and they don't even know it.

I also wonder about basic adrenaline in moments of crisis. When I managed a group home, we had to physically restrain kids when they were in danger to themselves or others. By kids, I mean 250 pound 16 year old adolescent males. I often witnessed staff pushing harder than they needed after a long restraint when kids were finally pronged face down with a staff on each limb. There were many times I relieved staff to take a breather because they were taking the bait of vulgar teenagers that were willing to do whatever it took momentarily change their own sense powerlessness.... and what better way to feel a morsel of power than to push the buttons of another? Is that what happened, did this police officer get his buttons pushed and make an irreversible reactionary response? I won't even pretend to know.

What are your thoughts?

If you want to see the brief footage of the shooting, it can be viewed here. A news report can be viewed here. And some footage of the civil unrest is here.

With all this said, in a spirit of protectiveness, I must add that this is my home and I love Oakland.

If you want a lighter blog post, look below at my completely awesome little nativity I just got in the mail yesterday....

ETSY First

2009-01-08T19:38:00.001-08:00

I've been sick for six days and am too foggy headed to write about the riots in Oakland. So here is an equally entertaining blog post. My first purchase on ETSY.

You all know that I love nativity sets, right?

Especially cultural ones from other countries.

Where Jesus isn't white with blond hair and blue eyes.

This one was too great to pass on.

Seriously, how cute is this?

I love the little sheep.
It was made with polymer clay.

By a female pastor in Minnesota.
So fun.

J&PB

2009-01-04T18:12:00.001-08:00

As I hear the entertaining stories of my friends raising their children, I have more of an appreciation of my mother raising me and my sibs. My sister was four when I came along, and my brother followed me just 18 months later. So three kids under the age of five must have been quite a handful.

When I was home this Christmas, mom told me that when I was young I HATED peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but I LOVED jelly and peanut butter sandwiches. If she accidentally said, "Here's your peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Diane" I would have a meltdown that rivals Carson's bagel and cream cheese. My mother would apologize and offer to make me another sandwich, then she would go into the kitchen and make some noise and return with the "new" jelly and peanut butter sandwich. I'm sure I felt like she was the best mom in the world... I still feel that way. I love all the little tricks that mother's play to keep their children happy. Keep the stories coming, friends.

Traffic Court

2008-12-31T00:12:00.000-08:00

I have two points to make.

First, I am an absolutely and unequivocally a dumb ass. It just can't be denied.

To refresh your memory, I had some problems with my car registration this past year. I sent it in, received a letter saying I owed a few more dollars, then didn't follow up. Two months passed, and I got three tickets in one day. I immediately went to the DMV to find that I was okay on the money but needed to show them my proof of insurance, which I didn't have on me because I was cheating the clock and in a county car at the DMV. So then I wait another month and send in my insurance to which I get no reply. Do I follow up? No. Two months later I get pulled over and the police says my registration runs as current but I need to go in and get my stickers. Do I do it? No. Two months later I drive to Oregon and I get pulled over. It literally takes me 40 minutes to talk myself out of a ticket. I promise my intentions were to go directly to the DMV when I got back to California, but then something happened. I don't know what that something was, but it must have been important. One month later, Brian gets pulled over for the expired tags and the CHP gives me a fix-it ticket. You will all be proud to know that the very next day, I went to the DMV.

So... I went to the DMV and showed them my proof of insurance and took care of next years registration while I was there. I immediately had the sheriff at work sign off on the fix-it ticket. I then needed to write a check for $10 and send it into the court. Ten dollars and a forty-two cent postage stamp and it is all over. But I had sixty days to do all of this, so of course I didn't mail it right away.

The ticket sat in my glove box (sidebar: why is it called that? Do people put gloves in this box? I use mine for important papers such as unpaid tickets, a pack of smokes for when I am occasionally stressed out, and air freshener). Anyways... I had sixty days to pay the ticket. It sat in my glove box for sixty-two days.

I mailed the ticket and the $10 check and it was returned to me in November. The note said, "Payment was due on 11/13 and received on 11/15. Please remit fee of $640 to avoid a hold on your drivers license." Yes, my ticket went from $10 to $640. Don't think I don't know this isn't giving you a heart attack, mother. Like I said, I am a total dumb ass.

So today I spent the day at Traffic Court. The entire day. I was holding out hope that the judge would dismiss my case and accept my $10 but that did not happen. He dismissed the original ticket but fined me for being late paying the ten dollars (the technical term for missing said deadline is "failure to appear" - yeah sounds serious.) For missing the deadline by two days, I had the oh-so-pleasant opportunity of writing a check to the court for $260. Yes, that is a plane ticket to see Dave and Edie, but instead I am supporting the State economy.

Yes, I am a total dumb ass. It can't be denied.

But here is my second thought:

I am so blessed.

I spent an entire day in a courtroom full of really hurting people. One man asked for 30 days jail time because there was no way he could afford the $100 and the judge would not let him do community service work. Others had tickets that were $800 and they asked for community service... that is 80 hours of work. I understand the economy is bad. I understand the State of California is poor. I understand that people are responsible for their own choices. But it seems to me that the poor keep getting beat down by a system that doesn't know or care about individual faces.

After a day of sitting with many of these people, I left feeling heavy. There wasn't just financial stress in the room. There was obvious emotional pain, as well. Many exhibited very colorful coping mechanisms such as anger, racism, fatalism, apathy, blame, rationalization, fear, mistrust, despair, ambivalence. There was not a lot of love in the room, and this seemed to extend beyond the court and was a reflection of people's everyday lives. This makes me sad.

So I'm a dumb ass for failing to be a responsible adult and handle my business. I don't know why I procrastinated like I did. This is not characteristic of all areas of my life. But I'm also just so blessed. Blessed to have family and friends who love me. Blessed that I don't have to work a hustle everyday to survive. Blessed that I have an education. Blessed that life on most days feels manageable. Blessed to have a job and money in the bank that allowed me to take responsibility for myself, pay the fine, learn a lesson, and be on my way. I am well aware that there are many who do not have resources or opportunity or a basic sense of belonging in the world. I am aware and I am am blessed.

2008 Year End Reading List

2008-12-30T21:46:00.000-08:00

I'm going to delete my 2008 reading list on my sidebar and I'll add a 2009 list. I read more than I thought this year... mostly because I waste so much time on this damn computer. Since I love reading and talking about books, here is my 2008 reading list, from best to worst.

Knock my socks off, exceptional, makes my all time favorite book list (Six Stars)
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith - Fiction
Leaving Church by Barbara Brown Taylor - Memoir
Sold by Patricia McCormick - Fiction but True
Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs - Memoir

Super Solid (Five Stars)
Heart of Christianity by Marcus Borg - Nonfiction
The History of Love by Nicole Strauss - Fiction
The Lemon Tree by Sandy Tolan - Nonfiction
A Problem from Hell by Stephanie Nolan - Nonfiction
Broken For You by Stephanie Kallos - Fiction
The Beautiful Things that Heaven Bears Dinaw Mengestu - Fict

In the Time of Butterflies by Julia Alvarez - Historical Fiction

Worthy Reads (Four Stars)
What is the What by Dave Eggers - Loose Memoir
Dry by Augusten Burroughs - Memoir
Stiff by Mary Roach - Nonfiction
Healing Stones by Nancy Rue and Stephen Arterburn - Fiction
NFL Total Access by Rich Eisen - Nonfiction
The Shack by William Young - Fiction
Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller - Memoir
Small Sacrifices by Ann Rule - True Crime
The Unheard by Josh Shiller - Memoir

Just Okay (Three Stars)
Kabul Beauty School by Deborah Rodriguez - Loose Memoir
Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller - Memoir
Drinking the Rain by Alix Kates Shulman - Memoir
Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie - Fiction
The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion - Memoir
Memory Keepers Daughter by Kim Edwards - Fiction
The Spiral Staircase by Karen Armstrong - Memoir
Grace Eventually by Anne Lamott - Memoir

Skip It (One or Two Stars)
Ana's Story by Jenna Bush - Childrens
The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz - Fiction/Self-help
River Piedra by Paulo Coelho - Fiction/Self-help
The Family Markowitz by Allegra Goodman - Fiction

What were some of your favorite '08 reads? Tell me and I'll put them on my '09 list. :)

Go Handmade!

2008-12-29T14:32:00.000-08:00

I've heard of this site before but have never looked into it... until Leah bought me a totally thoughtful Christmas present and it peeked my curiosity. The site is ETSY and it supports the buying and selling of handmade items. I have found so much cool stuff and am quite impressed with my impulse control of not *yet* spending any money. Seriously, check it out. It is such a fun site for gift giving.

Merry Christmas

2008-12-25T01:39:00.000-08:00

Small Town & Winter Wonderland

2008-12-23T01:03:00.000-08:00

I was raised in a small town in Oregon. The population was about 3,500 when I was a kid, and I think it has 'grown' to about 5,000 to date. The town had two stop lights, and it was a VERY big deal when it installed a third on the only main road at 10th street. The town had an annual Pet Parade where we would decorate our bikes and walk our favorite pets while residents lined the streets. We lived in a small house on Laurel street until I was in middle school. When we moved to a different house, we literally traded with a retired couple that lived about five blocks away. We needed a larger house, they needed a smaller home, we paid the difference, and we all moved (traded) on the same day. Our new home was less than two blocks from the high school. Of course it goes without saying that I got a ride to school from a friend with a car... that would have been so uncool to walk. Since my father owned a business and was on the city council, everyone knew him. This was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing when I got pulled over with beer in the back of the car and the police looked the other way and didn't tell my father. It was a curse when at the age of ten I wrote FUCK in the dirt on a truck that belonged to the parents of a girl I hated... they recognized me and my parents knew about it before I arrived home. There is a lot to be said of a small town upbringing.

About 15 years ago my parents sold the house. They moved out of the small town and into the country. When I asked why they wanted to move, they said, "We think it is time to get out of the city." Yeah. So, they bought a modest home that sits on about six acres of property. It is a perfect place for my parents, where my dad loves to work on his land and train his dogs and where my mom can tune into the Game Show Network while watching the birds graze off the feeders outside of her large bay window. Really, the land is quite pretty with a stream that flows through it. Here are a few pictures of my parent's property in the snow.

Intelligence

2008-12-18T23:40:00.000-08:00

Tonight I watched the totally lame show "Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader" with my parents. I was on a roll answering the 2nd grade questions when my father proudly announced to my mother that I correctly answered three in a row. The bar is high, good people.