Peeking From the Ditches of My Dirty Life

Shooting from the hip:

If I said that I didn’t care whether or not anyone read my blogs, … well I’d be lying. The truth is I care so much about this tiny little planet someone named Earth, that I want everyone else to care the way I do. And yes I think my articles are important sustaining information; springboards into deeper research and understanding. Perhaps I’m thinking too highly of myself here. Or, on the other hand, maybe I’m not thinking high enough.

A few weeks back I got a friend request on MySpace from a girl I have known since the second grade! We’ll call her Sandy. I could tell from her note to me, that Sandy was so happy to have found me, and let me tell you, her excitement was more contagious than measles. We reminisced through a couple of emails and then she sent me her phone number and asked me to call her so we could catch up.

I thought about Sandy often after this, but since she was on the East Coast, and I’m on the West, by the time I thought to call her, I figured it was beyond descent hours. Besides, I didn’t know her family situation well, and I didn’t want to chance waking a sleepy baby or a cranky husband. My weekends were so cramped with activities that calling was not convenient for me then either because I had so many things on my plate. Until one day…

One day I decided to make time for Sandy because I was turning into one of those people who were all but impossible to get a hold of, always making excuses for their short comings and acting like I was almost too busy to breathe. I didn’t want to be so corn flakey so I picked up the phone and called and dove right into a heart felt conversation with a person I had never known as a woman but only a little girl. She told me all about how her mother died in elementary school, how she was abused and sent to a group home – a home she ran a way from and ended up in New York. My heart broke for her in the first five minutes of our conversation.

Reconnecting with Sandy shed a little light for me on some of the readers of my blog. While I was feeling a little discouraged about the possibility that people were not digging their heels into the issues I put on the table or while I watched the hypnotic low number of my subscribers while other bloggers who spoke of their personal nonsense got more attention than they knew what to do with; what I was missing was understanding that in both the real world and the cyber one, human beings are longing for human connection. The signs are everywhere. Because despite almost all things being electronic or automated, we still have an addiction to our cell phones. Or we hear about the urban legends of myspace junkies getting their social networking fix for over eight hours at a time. And though I believe it’s just a trend, reality television is still wildly popular, sort of like talk shows used to be.

If I said I was going to spill my guts more often about the innermost workings of my exhausting and complicated life, I’d be lying. What I can tell you though, is that I will do my best to be mindful of this in all the ways I attempt to connect with people, because this world is getting smaller and smaller, and what I am starting to realize in living color, is that we are all literally connected.

Top 10 Polluted Cities in the World

All of this “green” talk prompted me to check out CNN’s Planet in Peril (again) from Netflix. I only got through the first half of it though, because the disk was damaged and I opted not to receive a new one, because my Netflix queue is currently a mile long.

In the report, CNN reporter Anderson Cooper said that out of the world’s top 20 polluted cities, 16 of them were from China. Upon hearing this, of course I wanted to do more research about that – right after I did a quick study on the rarely photographed Black Sifaka lemur from Madagascar.

Okay back to pollution.

I was able to go to Impactlab.com and read about, exactly what Cooper was referring to in the 2006 report, however, my attention was turned to a 2007 report from Time on the top 10 most polluted cities in the world. I was so relieved to find that there were no US cities on the list. But don’t get comfortable with that info. We still need you to recycle that plastic bottle when you’re done with it!

1. Linfen, China: The air is filled with burning coal, and according to the report, if you hang your laundry, it’ll turn black before it gets dry. Ewww. The souce of Linfen’s pollution is automobile and industrial emissions.

2. Tianying, China: Due to poor technology and poor regulations, much of the toxic metal waste ends up in the soil and water, affecting the blood of the children that reside in Tianyin. When China has to choose between industry and environmental protection, industry wins hands down. The source is from mining and processing.

3. Sukinda, India: The type of pollution is Hexavalent chromium and other metals, like in the movie Erin Brockovich. It’s been estimated that 84.75% of the deaths in this area are due to chromite-related diseases. There’s been no real attempt for clean up.

4. Vapi, India: The type of pollution in Vapi is chemicals and heavy metals from Industrial estates. Here, the mercury levels in the city’s water are 96 times higher than World Health Organization safety levels.

5. La Oroya, Peru: Although America’s name’s not on the list, America’s fingerprint, is. Since 1922 an American owned smelter has been polluting this city, and even after active emissions from the smelter are reduced, the lead will remain in the soil for centuries. But there’s no clean up plan yet.

6. Dzerzhinsk, Russia: The source of the pollution is from Cold War-era chemical weapons manufacturing. About 300,000 tons of chemical was improperly dumped between 1930 and 1998. The Guinness Book of World Records has this city as the most chemically polluted city on Earth!

7. Norilsk, Russia: The city was founded in 1935 as a Siberian slave camp and is now home to the world’s largest heavy metal smelting complex. Within 30 miles of the smelter there’s not a single living tree.

8. Chernobyl, Ukraine: This city is famous for it’s famous nuclear meltdown on April 26, 1986 where it released 100 times more radiation into the air than the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It is estimated that it will be contaminated for tens of thousands of years.

9. Sumgayit, Azerbaijan: The pollutants are organic chemicals, oil and heavy metals from petrochemical and industrial complexes. When the factories were operational it released as much as 120,000 tons of emissions into the air annually.

10. Kabwe, Zambia: Deposits of lead were discovered in 1902 near Kabwe when Zambia was a British colony called Northern Rhodesia. Of course little concern was given to the health effects from the toxic metal on the natives, and there has been almost no improvement since. Recently the World Bank allocated $40M for clean up.


Just a little toxic food for green thought.

The Case of the Brazilian Music Paper Packaging



Something struck me when I opened the cases of two brand new CDs I had ordered at the same time from Amazon. One was a soul music CD and the other was Céu. I recognized right away that Céu’s self titled CD packaging was exactly like that of Bebel Gilberto’s Momento in that it was mostly paper with the only plastic, being the mold where the actual disc fit into; while my soul music had the regular jewel case.

I paused for a second and thought to myself, why on earth doesn’t every distribution company use more (recycled) paper for packaging? I mean, really. Is it necessary to have all of that plastic with the jewel case? I understand that the jewel case takes less effort – just slip the sleeves into the appropriate places, but is it very responsible?

I took a look at Bebel Gilberto’s self titled CD also, which was her release before Momento, and this packaging contained no plastic at all. Very unique, I thought. And then I noticed that all of these CDs were from Six Degrees Records based out of San Francisco and it made sense to me. Here I was thinking that this green kind of packaging had something to do with these two artists being Brazilian and connected to the Amazon Rain Forest… when possibly, it had more to do with the green consciousness of northern California.

If I recall correctly, Bebel Gilberto’s Tanto Tempo, which was released before her self titled album, also has the same type of packaging, and honestly, even though they have nothing to do with it, I tend to believe that you kind of look at an artist a little differently if they are represented by an environmentally conscious record company. Don’t you think?

Just this morning I was telling my cousin about a lamp that is green because it’s packaging is zero waste. That means it’s packaging is apart of it’s everyday function. Don’t believe me? Look it up for yourself! It’s called the Knoend Lite2go and you can find it at greenfeet.com.

Perhaps I’m being optimistic (like that’s a bad thing), but I’m hoping that this type of low percentage and zero waste is the new path of consumer product packaging. It’s not that we can’t do it, it’s more like we either haven’t or won’t. Six Degrees just proved to us that even a record company can be green.

The Sudanese Savings Plan and My Disposable Income

Yesterday afternoon, I watched the documentary Lost Boys of Sudan, in which the filmmakers track of small group of young Sudanese refugee men who have witnessed and experience unimaginable horrors. The story begins with their journey to find financial stability and education in the United States.

I felt empathy for these young men when the story progressed because they were under the impression that America was like heaven on earth; but what this intimate group of gentleman discovered, was America is not the fairy tale they were told back at home. A few of them commented that they work and work and never have time for anything else, but they still have nothing and no time to be social and make friends.

In following this group, one of the young men, Peter, broke away from their small Sudanese community in Texas and abruptly moved to Kansas where he adjusted his age and enrolled into high school, while still working, which was a very smart move on his part because all of these young men seeking an education were having a very rough time trying to get into college. It would be so much easier for Peter to go from a US high school to a community college, than for him to try to get into one from a refugee camp.

Peter and his friend Santino were sitting in their apartment one day, talking about how much money they were sending back home. Peter, within a few months time was able to save up enough money to send over $1200 home to help out. Santino said that he had sent $600 (in a lump sum). I thought this was amazing! So much so, that even as I was waking up in the heat of the morning, it was still on my mind.

How was it that Peter, within a few months, was able to send home over $1,200? I began thinking about all the bills that I was paying that he most likely didn’t have, and how maybe I could cut down on some more of my spending so that I would be able to save more. Don’t get me wrong, every month or so I go over in my mind what expenses I can cut so that I feel like I’m down to bare bones, but the documentary prompted a new examination. It is that of distraction and the true meaning of disposable income.

What I was figuring as disposable income, no longer seems to be so disposable. After paying all of my bills and tucking away savings for me and my daughter’s college fund, the money I have left over seemed to be disposable. That’s not the case anymore as I have come to redefine it. It is now the money that is left over when I have met my major financial goals. I don’t have a far away homeland to send my money to, but I do have a dream to realize and until it is, there is nothing disposable about income.

When Can We Start? An Excerpt from Raise the Red Teddy: A Single Mother's Guide to Dating.

Many women have their own ideas about what age a child should be before the child’s mother can entertain the thought of courting other men. Now, lean in closer to the page, I’m about to tell you a secret. The secret is, there is no “correct age.”

Some years back I found myself in my third year of college, pregnant – after I had already broken it off with my unborn child’s father. Eventually, I ended up back in the arms of Justin, a guy I had dated in high school, whom I’d known since I was 12 years old. Maybe it was his familiarity that brought us together while I was pregnant, or maybe it was that we honestly and truly had a deep spiritual and emotional connection. I always believed that it was the latter, despite how our relationship ended.

Justin, just like everyone else who knew me, was shocked out of his mind to learn about my pregnancy. I was young, very precocious, ambitious, and soon-to-be college-educated. So after learning of my own condition immediately after completing my second year, the world as I knew it was ending. I didn’t have the heart to abort and I would have felt too guilty if I gave her up. Justin stepped in and made sure I walked, drank my eight glasses of water – despite my protests at times - took my prenatal vitamins and he even came to some of my prenatal appointments. He did visit me in the hospital too…wasn’t quite there during the birth, thanks to well meaning intentions of my insensitive father who suggested he make a meeting rather than stay with me, stretched out on the table giving birth…but that’s a whole different irrelevant story I’ll have to share with you sometime.

One of the primary reasons I felt comfortable bringing my newborn around Justin after she was born, is because I had known him since I was a child and not only did I date him through most of my pregnancy, but I had also dated him in high school. I knew him like the back of my hand (I thought) very well, and I had actually believed that I would end up spending the rest of my life with him. A few months after my daughter, Annabelle’s birth though, I noticed changes in him.

He called me less and less until I found myself the only one calling. He came over to visit me less and less also, until I was the only one visiting. My frustration escalated to tears and arguments until I got to the bottom of what was going on and what I found out what was eating him, I had very little control over. It seems that my then soul-mate had concluded that he was keeping me and my daughter’s father from being a family. He believed that if it weren’t for him, I would naturally gravitate back to her dad because our bond created by our child would be so strong. I wasn’t sure where he got this bright idea, but I spent months trying to convince him that he was wrong and that I only wanted to be with him. I was 21-years old, and still going through a bit of postpartum depression. I fought for our relationship as much as I could in the state I was in, but life is a funny thing, and what we sometimes plan when we are young, doesn’t always come to pass. Justin moved on and got married to a woman I’ve also known since childhood and even had a daughter of his own. After Justin, I kept new dates away from my baby…for a while.

This Flood Should Make You Sad

You should be very upset for the Mid-westerners whose businesses, farmland and homes have been devastated by the great flood of the Mississippi river and the broken levee in Illinois. And you should count your lucky stars that you don’t have to depend upon the government to feed you and find shelter for you as you helplessly watch your dreams and all of your steady-focused hard work get washed down this unsympathetic river.

I don’t mean to be should-ing all over you, but this Mississippi mud puddle reaches beyond the devastated lives like 83-year-old Lois Russell from Illinois who had to leave her waterlogged little white farmhouse she’s resided in for 57 years, as reported on CNN.com. It reaches beyond the amber waves of wheat in fields that were once ready to be harvested and the bean crops that will be completely lost. Equally as important, it goes beyond the hundreds and hundreds of acres of corn that is wiped out and meanwhile damaging the land that nurtured it, that will be in no shape for farming even after the water recedes.

Do you know what happens if you go into China and cut down or burn half of it’s bamboo? The wild panda would be completely wiped out. The same would be the scenario with eucalyptus trees and the wild koala bears. So what do you deduct would happen, if a large corn supply was wiped out for a country that heavily relied on corn and corn based products like animal feed, especially those who raise stock for beef, pork and poultry and ethanol products?

If you think the price of food is high now, don’t expect to see any relief anytime soon because this flood does not just effect Mid-west citizens, it will affect us all as the price of corn jumps up and farmers, breeders, manufacturers and merchants pass on these spiked prices to the consumers.

This flood should make you really sad.

Deceptive Marketing and the Coral Reef Killer

I just picked up National Geographic’s Summer 2008 Green guide from the grocery store, and while in line, an older gentleman behind me said to me, “You know most of that green stuff doesn’t even work.” I looked at him and he goes on to tell me about how one news organization (which one, I don’t remember) tested over 60 products that claimed to be green and out of the 60 only two were really as green as they claimed to be. He said some company’s would put a little picture of a green leaf and make it seem like their products were all natural when they weren’t.

I told him, “Yeah, well I guess it was only a matter of time before the marketing people jumped on the ‘green’ bandwagon to spin their products and the perception of the consumer."

Of course, this conversation with Mr. Random didn’t make me put the magazine back, but it did make me ponder for a moment about the ethical standards of a company that would walk the tightrope of deception with its consumers. None of this is new, I know, but after reading about how many sunscreens use the term “reef-friendly” and this term is not regulated, I realized that this means every term on every product we purchase is really up for translation.

Let me just back up and say that I didn’t know that there was a need for “reef-friendly” sunscreen. Maybe it’s because I don’t use sunscreen much. Hardly at all. What I found out today though, is that, three months ago, a study published in the journal Environmental Health Perspectives found that sunscreens that use certain chemicals like benzophenone, cinnamate and preservatives called parabens, triggers viral infections in coral, causing them to bleach and die.

I would have never connected the use of sunscreen to the death of coral, although it makes sense when you realize that 25% of the sunscreen you apply washes off.

Fortunately, all sunscreens are not created equal, and what’s good for coral is good for you. The Green Guide suggests using sunscreens that are plant-based rather than petroleum-based and opting for sunscreens that use physical barriers (reflecting UV rays before they reach your skin) versus chemical UV barriers (absorbing UV rays before they damage your skin).

As for deceptive marketing, all we have are our courts, lawyers and our own beyond-common sense.

Hypermilers: These Gas Misers Have Such A Cool Name Though

Hypermiling is the practice of driving in a way that exceeds the United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) estimated fuel efficiency on your vehicle by modifying your driving habits, i.e., getting more miles per gallon out of your car than is officially estimated.

I’m not sure where I’ve been, but I’m very green to the concept of hypermiling. Do you know what it is? Because if you do, you should explain to me why studying the techniques of hypermiling feels like learning a whole new branch of science.

I’m currently four months behind my scheduled oil change and I’m completely lost under the hood, so when the first tip for saving gas is to use engine oil with low-kinematic viscosity, I’m a little intimidated. I don’t check tire pressure; only make sure they’re not flat, so when I read about maintaining the engine control module and oxygen sensors, my eyes kind of just glaze over. I have a mechanic who handles all of my car issues, and without him, I’m completely in the dark.

If there is anything I have learned from Madonna (yes, I’m talking about the almost 50 year old singer with the new baby from Mali) it is that if I am afraid of something, I need to do it. So as the prices of gas climb higher than G.W. Bush’s disapproval rate, I now know that it is time to climb under the hood as well until I can get my hands on a solar powered car, or an electric one, or at least one that runs on biodiesel fuel.

Besides the under-the-hood stuff, I also need to clean out my trunk of excess since I can’t change vehicles by buying a lighter one. According to the hypermiling tips I’ve come across, excess weight increases fuel usage, which makes sense, but I never thought about the percentage of increase being significant enough to make a difference. I suppose every little bit counts.

According to one hypermiler interviewed on NBC, “down hill is the candy of the road.” I have a whole lot to study and commit to memory if I’m going maximize my gas efficiency (until I get my car that runs on water) with this hypermiling experiment I’m about to embark on, beyond coasting and getting my hands on a trip computer to gage my progress.

I find it incredibly sad that we have become reduced to gas misers on the road, but until change comes, we can’t just sit around and continue to be sucker punched by our T-word government. So don’t even think about honking if you’re behind me, and I’m actually driving the speed limit.

The Tracker and the Aborigine Star David Gulpilil

Inspired, after viewing the Australian film, Rabbit Proof Fence, I rented another Australian film titled, The Tracker, which also starred Aboriginal actor, David Gulpilil. The story takes place in 1922, when a group of government bounty hunters rely on the skill of an Aborigine tracker, David Gulpilil, to find another Aborigine man who is on the run and is accused of killing a white woman.

Within the first 10 minutes of the film, I was tempted to eject the movie because, though it was not graphic at all, I found it to be incredibly disturbing. I believe it was because parts of the story were so brutal and heartless and reminded me of the feeling I get after watching movies like Mississipi Burning or Cry Freedom. There is a furry that arises from the pit of my stomach in watching the injustice and inhumanity of the suffering of innocent people at the hands of a god-complex authority.

The end was so much better than I thought it would be and the DVD also featured a very interesting and insightful documentary on the movies star, David Gulpilil. Gulpilil has been famous since 1971 with his first movie, titled, Walkabout. Uncertain of his true age, Gulpilil still lives in the bush, but has an agent in Sydney. A fascinating man with a fascinating story.

HR 1955 GOOGLE IT DARN IT!

Have you Googled HR 1955 yet? Really, I don’t mean to be a thorn in your side. It’s just that if we actually leave this issue alone, using fear based tactics, this bill threatens our existence, not only as American citizens, but as human beings. And I really would die if I had to watch us all go down the McCarthy road.

Don’t glaze over. You remember the study of McCarthyism in your history books don’t you? Let me refresh your memory from the encyclopedia by Farlex:

McCarthyism

Period of political persecution during the 1950s, led by US senator Joe McCarthy, during which many public officials and private citizens were accused of being communists or communist sympathizers. Although McCarthy was officially censured by the Senate for misconduct in 1954 (most of his evidence was fabricated), his claims induced an atmosphere of suspicion and paranoia that destroyed many careers. The term has come to signify any type of reckless political persecution or witch-hunt.

During the late 1940s and early 1950s, when Cold War tensions were mounting, many Americans were alarmed by the spread of communism both abroad and at home. Overseas, China became communist and the USSR more militarily aggressive; at home Soviet spy cases, such as those against Alger Hiss and Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, caused great scandal. The US government began investigating federal workers and creating lists of organizations suspected of communist activity.

Senator McCarthy, meanwhile, sought publicity to revive flagging support for his re-election. In 1950, at a Republican women's meeting in Wheeling, West Virginia, he claimed to know the identities of 205 Department of State officials with communist links. Although groundless, his allegations provided a fearful US public with an explanation for the spread of communism and sparked mass anti-communist hysteria.

Although the Senate Foreign Relations Committee investigated McCarthy's allegations, it did not uncover any evidence at all of communists in the Department of State. Nevertheless, McCarthy made further accusations and began a nationwide campaign to hunt down communists and communist sympathizers. Those who appeared before congressional committees were confronted with circumstantial evidence and intimidation. Many people accused others to save their own careers. Those who tried to criticize the government's methods were labelled communist sympathizers. ‘Blacklisting’ of suspected communists also ruined many careers, especially in the entertainment industry. Even President Dwight Eisenhower initiated a new loyalty programme to prove that he, too, was committed to rid the country of communists.

McCarthyism finally began to wane after the end of the Korean War in 1953. In 1954 a hearing on McCarthy's allegations of suspected communists in the US Army was televised nationally. In person his allegations rang hollow and seemed brutal and crude. He was further discredited when the Senate officially censured him for misconduct. The US Supreme Court made a series of decisions 1955-58 that helped to protect the civil rights of people accused of having communist links.

Now…who says learning history keeps us from repeating it? Who ever came up with that cliché grossly underestimated the dark side of the human spirit and the forgetfulness of the human heart. If we do repeat this McCarthyism (new term: Bushism) it will be even worse. Know why? KNOW WHY? Because Bush has a systematic plan in place, and while we’re bugging out of the most frivolous non-issues, he’s creating his machine to ruin us all. We’re all the “T” word, you know.

Google it! HR 1955!

Down On One Knee Proposing You Stay Home


Everyday I’m getting increasingly angry but I can’t do anything about it. I just paid $4.31/ gallon at the pump…this reminds me of when I was 8 years old and I said to one of my cousin, “One day people are going to pay $5 a gallon for gas!” Yeah, I was saying it back when I was 8… back when I thought the idea was so outrageous, I thought I was being funny. Am I some kind of prophet? I don’t know about that just yet, but what I do know is that I now feel like I’m being bullied and I’m not taking too kindly to it.

This is my proposal as a type of band-aid solution to our huge rising cost of oil: stay home one day a week. No errands or frivolous window shopping excursions. It doesn’t sound like much but it could make a huge difference in your gas tank, your wallet, and the message we’ll be sending to oil companies and our government.

One day a week.

The surgery that needs to be performed is a huge over haul in our adaptation of alternative fuel. As long as we sit by and allow these companies (and our government) to gauge our bank accounts, thereby affecting the economy markets across the board, they will continue to drag their feet about creating and using an alternative fuel source.

Be sure that you understand this: there will be no easy and smooth transition to solving this oil crisis. If we have to convert our cars to use a different type of fuel then that is just what we have to do. Those companies we support by filling up our tanks are making more money than ever before. The approach to solving this problem is much bigger than this little blog entry will allow and will take much more time to swing into action.

In the meanwhile, while we are actively deciding how to change our fuel fate around, I propose that one day a week; which ever day is most convenient for you, because everybody’s schedule is different; we decide to stay at home. If it is absolutely necessary to go out, we should then walk, or take a bike to where ever we need to go (unless you’re of course, driving your nifty little car that runs on garbage). The objective here, is to not use any sources of petroleum fuel for just one day a week as a step forward turning our oil dependency around.

It’s only one day a week.

Here's to Killing the Zombie

A little over a year ago, a close friend of mine recommended “bundling” because I was paying out the you –know-what for phone service through TalkAmerica. I listened and considered, but my issue was that I didn’t want to have anything to do with cable television. I prided myself with watching so little, being so thrifty and being disciplined enough to keep the silly boob-tube off long after I had come home to my apartment. My young daughter even whisked past it on her way to her room, not giving it a second thought. In fact, if I did have the stupid thing on and she found me a little more absorbed into it than into whatever she was talking about at the moment, she would defiantly stand in front of it and turn it off! The nerve of her! Like she was the mom and I was the open-mouthed-cartoon-dazed daughter!

Those were the days when I was checking items off my goal list so fast that my pen was smoking! I got things done, and I found the extra energy because my progress fueled me. My own defining success was intoxicating and low and behold, the folks around me thought of me as a workaholic. I liked that! I wasn’t a workaholic for my nine to five. No sir. They were referring to the books that I wrote, the poetry I created, the painting that flowed from my canvases… all of the STUFF I had the tenacity to take on. You know me, I’m not going to let the tiny idea of creating a whole new language intimidate me…

But this is how I got sucked into the “bundle.” I was already paying about $100 a month for phone service by itself; I was borrowing internet service from other people (so if people didn’t pay their bill, guess what, I can’t get online); and my friend reminded how some of the news channels like CNN, MSNBC, and Fox News (who I now can’t stand) might inspire more of my journalistic writing. This was the ONLY selling point I would acknowledge when it came to cable TV.

So this is how it is now: I come home and I turn on the television and plop myself down on the couch to see if I can catch an episode or three of CSI: Miami. I tell myself that this is only so that I can unwind from my workday. If (or when) I flip the channel, maybe I’ll catch an episode of Lockup or Top Chef or First 48 or Cold Case or Forensic Files or…. Oh wow! Look at the time… it’s already 8 o’clock and I still haven’t even started dinner! Am I crazy? No. Just bundled.

And did my work continue? I was all inspired by Michael Masterson, a business guru, who recommends waking up early to add extra hours to your work day to achieve your goals. At first I was doing very well, typing away in the peaceful hours of the early morning, but then… well, staying up late hanging out watching TV or talking on the phone completely derailed my plans of “early to rise.”

So now I have to tame this monster I have created, because I catch my daughter laying in front of the television for hours on end, and if I tell her to go to bed, she fights me because she wants to see the last of (insert name of show here); or she’s in tears because I just told her that I’m not going to tell her later what happened at the end of (insert name of another show or movie here).

I thought I was so clever because I had decided that I wasn’t going to keep the cable and I would take care of the problem for good. But when I called Time Warner the cost of my phone service would skyrocket so fast that it would hardly be worth ridding my home of cable.

Enough is enough! I have to get my groove back, and I’m not going to find it at the tail end of Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares on BBC America. So this is the plan for both me and my little sunshine. An hour a day. That’s it. No more. It still allows room for Grey’s Anatomy on Thursdays for me, and Sponge Bob Squarepants for her. Most importantly, it allows me to relapse into workaholism once again. We’ll see how it goes.

First Dream of June

I was in this building and though it was never said, I had the feeling that at one time, it used to be a fire station. I walked into a large light blue room that sort of looked like a classroom and there was an old man there on the far side. I didn’t see him in detail, but only that he had tan skin and long white hair that went past his shoulders with a long white mustache and a long white beard that was thin and spread over the front of him. There must have been a draft in the room, because the man’s hair was blowing slightly – not back, but out. It made him look wild and mountainous. His clothes were light colored and I don’t remember seeing much of his body. Only his face stood out – probably because it had a natural scowl to it. Not one from anger, but possibly from habit and old age.

I don’t remember him saying much to me but he did acknowledge my presence. I sat down in one of those school desks children use in elementary school, that’s large and square, but many of the desks that were scattered throughout the room were colored; blue, yellow and tan mostly, yet I didn’t really notice this until people, mostly young women, started trickling into the room and began sitting in them.

The old man instructed them to get up and move the desks into a semi-circle, and an unintentional pattern of alternating blue and yellow desks was created for part of the semi-circle.

I knew no one in the room and had the feeling that most if not all the women present had been here many times before. When the semi-circle evolved into a complete circle, I noticed there were blue and red folders on our desks. I also had papers, but I don’t recall reading them.

The old man instructed a woman to read from text all of the people, except me, had on their desks. I was confused at first because I didn’t realize that I should have had this text, and I was afraid at first that he’d call on me and I’d have to show the whole room how ill-prepared I was. I slumped in my seat and continued to listen as I stared at the items on my desk without really looking at them, as he called on another young woman to read.

The second girl, a dark haired young white woman with pale skin and black clothing, was reading pretty well, but stumbled over a few of the words. The old man corrected her a couple of times before she closed the text, sprang up out of her seat and said, mostly to herself, “I’m not doing this anymore.” Then she walked over to a wall of candles that was to my left and held up one of the lit candles and said loudly, while the old man continued to read, “Does anyone else need a light? Anyone?”

I was astounded that she was totally talking over his reading while he was acting like she wasn’t even in the room. The pale dark-haired woman left, and another woman got up and did the same thing while the old man was still reading. After a while he dismissed everyone, and I inquired about getting a candle to the young Asian woman sitting just left of me (who reminded me a lot of a girl I knew in junior high school). She said, “Oh it’s too late now. You can’t get one after it’s over.” Then she said, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

I told her, “I won’t be here on Saturday. I have to rehearse for a play.”

She said, “You have to come Saturday.”

I said, “No, I don’t.”

Then she said, “Well enjoy practicing for your play.”

Then she left – and I woke up.