Letter to Art

Dear Art,
once again I’ve made you an option instead of my priority. I keep pushing you away and begging you to come back. And you take me back every time, but I know I can’t keep treating you like this. You don’t deserve my occasional consideration. I vow to make a space in my heart, house, and life for you, forever more. Just say you’ll stay…

Dealing with Illness

My dr. asked me the other day how I was handling my diabetes diagnosis. I told her that I’ve been diagnosed for a while now, so why was she asking. She said that many folks get diagnosed, flip out and keep flipping. I told her that I just deal with it and move on. I flipped, got over it and have been dealing ever since. I rationalized that I could have worse things, and indeed I could. And that taking care of myself and this disease is something that will benefit me all around, so I don’t see the problem, as problems go.

Let me break this down for you.

I once was a skinny little twig who could eat anything she wanted. I was encouraged to eat, even engorge myself because I was a skinny little twig. No one taught the skinny little twig about nutrition and exercise. They just told her to keep eating. One day, in her late 20s, the twig was diagnosed with diabetes. Say what?! Yes, the twig didn’t see the connection of both her father and grandfather having the dreaded disease. Even though all three of them were rather slim. Genetics is a b*tch. Anyway, the twig had to learn good nutrition and exercise, even as her metabolism slowed and she was no longer a twig.

So now I try to eat right and exercise regularly. Do I always do this? Heck no. I’ve fallen off of the wagon more times than I can count. I go up and down in weight and go up and down with nutrition, especially when stressed, which is often because complete world domination is stressful business.

So why am I not terribly upset about my diagnosis? Because like I said above, there are a whole lot of other worse thing in the world I could have. Treating my disease makes me have to do right by me, mind body and spirit. I have to be aware of my stressors, and how to counteract them. Which means some serious stress reduction, I’ve cut out lots of people, places and things that cause me stress. I try not to major in the minor, because it will kill me. So basically, if I seem like I don’t care, it’s probably because I don’t. I can’t afford to. I do things that make me happy first. I have to, I cannot worry about what makes others happy, and if they really love me, like they say they do, they will enjoy it as well. It’s almost that simple. I am that chi finder, the chakra aligning, and meditating tree hugger, minus the trees. It’s all Zen for me baby. And when I can’t find the Zen, I put the world on pause until I do. Yes it’s just that important. I try to exercise on the regular, even if it’s just a 10 minute walk around my building, gotta keep it moving, physical stillness is the enemy. And being aware of what I eat, we all know how that goes so I don’t need to elaborate.

Recap, mental stillness good, physical stillness bad. I refuse to let what could kill me, actually kill me.
So how do you deal?

Have you ever felt like...

Have you ever felt like you were standing in a room, or field, or street corner, and everyone around you is running around like their hair is on fire, and yet you can’t see the flames? You wonder to yourself, “where is the fire?” then you look at your reflection and see that everything is in order, leaving you miffed at the chaos around you. Leaving you wondering how you can extricate yourself from the mess around you. Constantly looking for that trap door in the floor that will take you away, far far away…

On the flip side

Have you ever felt like you were the only one who heard the alarm, and everyone else is still sleeping? You wonder why you are the only one who can see the facade for what it really is, and it doesn’t sit too well with you?
Stuck between a world of superficial chaos and deadly slumber…welcome to Monday….


I have a retraction and confession to make. In a previous blog, I commented about The 48 Laws of Power. I said they sucked because I didn’t agree with their interpretation of old works. Well, the book is on my desk as you are reading this blog. Don’t know why its here, but I flipped it open and started reading it again. As I read I started to feel that ball of anger swell up again. I think I’ve discovered why this book totally rubs me the wrong way. I’m pissed because I use these laws and now this snitch is telling everyone about them. I believe he has broken the 1st and only rule of fight club. I think snitches get stitches.

In the game of life, we all play a part, some of us better than others. Some of us move throughout life below the radar, our true motives never really clear. I am one of those people (my pops was in Intelligence, what choice did I have?) I can make a Dunkin Donuts run seem like a covert ops mission to smuggle cocoa plants to Friedrich Ferdinand Runge so that I may enjoy my morning stimulant. Paranoia aside, I do not appreciate the secrets of my success published and sold to millions.

And anyone who busts up the sanctity of secrecy and the code of the streets needs to be dealt with.

Thank you.

White is not always right.

I’m talking about tooth fillings.

My dentist decided that my old faithful trusty 1980s filling wasn’t good enough for my molar anymore. She said both in the back needed to go. Since they weren’t hurting me, I told her to go fly a kite. Well, upon my next cleaning, I apparently signed up for the stupid fillings to be replaced (still sketchy about the details, must’ve been euphoric over not having any cavities or having to get any teeth pulled). So when I went in, they asked which one first, I asked which one was the worst. It took her a minute to decide (I should’ve known then). She pointed to one and said half the filling was gone so she recommended starting with that one. I would like to reiterate that there was nothing wrong with my mouth before going in. Thank you. So I let the mad dentist have at it. She drilled out my loyal silver filling, and replaced it with some pasty white one, so now I can’t tell that I’ve had any dental work done. Visually I can’t tell, but physically, my mouth has been going through it. I haven’t felt pain like this since my braces (which I got off in 2006). I haven’t felt pain like this since those teeth got filled waaaayyyy back in the 80s. and you know what? I’m pissed. “If it aint broken…” is what I muttered that morning before I left for the dentist. I should’ve listened to myself. Now I’m in pain. This is great for my diet, since I truly do not feel like eating, but it’s horrible for my attitude, everyone has caught a swear word from me over the past 2 weeks.

When I was a kid, I kinda liked my fillings, it was like a badge of honor, I’d survived community center dentists. I was living proof that free dental care was a good idea. I didn’t even cry. I kinda liked the whole process, the Novocain, the drilling, the inability to talk without biting my tongue. It was like a little adventure. I might have some s&m issues. And you know, I kinda was a little excited this time when she whipped out that big ole needle. I thought about all the things I could do to my lip on the way to work, and how I’d have a reason not to speak to anyone for awhile. Well the white filling killed that dream. The Novocain didn’t work, the numb lip just pissed me off when I tried to drink something, and like I said before I’ve been in pain ever since. Some things don’t need an upgrade.

Hating on Seth

When they say “your job destiny is in your hands” I say “explicative explicative you!”. Then I calm down, find my words, and expound. That statement, your job destiny is in your hands, is such a polyanna whimsical one that only someone who has had the world handed to them on a gilded platter would think of it and actually say it out loud. Only someone who is part of the majority would think that way. I mean what have you got to lose right? When you fail, fall on your face, what would happen to you? Someone take pity because you’re just a young buck who made some bad decisions, you deserve a second chance? Or would they look at you like some kind of statistic, oh there goes another one of them, unemployed, always looking for that quick money.

I kinda do have a personal beef with Seth Godin. It’s a love hate thing with this little old dude. Maybe because he represents the majority. Maybe because he’s used his talent at first for money for food, then for good, and now for supreme corruption of all things intellectual. Maybe I can just turn this back on capitalism and the media. Maybe I’m just a jealous hater who wished she’d thought of it first. Of course, while he was building his empire I was only in high school crafting my master plan on how to get out. Whatever dude, the hate is there regardless.
So why I can’t stand this old dude? Because yes he’s conceptualized great ideas and dumbed them down to the point of Dr. Suess so the average Joe Slow can catch on and hopefully use. Maybe I’m just an elitist snob who prefers her knowledge wrapped in intellectual integrity. I took a gander at a book a friend was reading a while ago called The 48 Laws of Power (not by Seth, but I’m still blaming him). It was about how to get what you want from people yada yada yada. I can say I was not impressed and hated it. Why? Because it took excerpts from great books, interpreted them in support of their main point, and wrote it on a couple 100 pages and called it useful (sounds familiar…). I am a snob because I’ve already read Art of War and Machiavelli and can pull from them what I need to for total world domination. Didn’t need Robert Greene’s interpretation of Sun Tzu’s process for enemy crushing. And I promise anyone who can manage to do all of what the book told you to do would end up alone and rich or alone and broke and an S ne their forehead for stuuuuupppiiiddd.

My other beef is that yes Seth had to dumb down his ideas for corporate (that’s another blog I can whip up for ya) because those people are slow. But come on, really? His books are at a 5th grade reading level? Seth is the Tyler Perry of how to books. The only difference is that TP is for escapism, SG is supposed to help for real right?

I really don’t hate Seth, I mean I think he’s brilliant and has a lot to share with the world. If he invited me over to his house to have green tea, would I go? Hellz yeah! But I’d request that he’d talk to me like someone with ¾ of a brain. And this concludes my hate session. Yes I do feel better now.