Hi! fyi, i am leaving town tomorrow a.m. for a lovely babysitting gig. Ally, Elsa and I are heading to Skaneateles, NY (which is Ally's hometown) so that she can attend her little sister's wedding. On the way we are stopping at Hershey Park*, then Elsa and I get to go to a renaissance festival about an hour away on the day of the wedding, and on Sunday, we're going to Niagara Falls and Canada!

Expect stories and pics when I return!

Much love,

-s

*a CHOCOLATE theme park. NOW we're talking! !#$% Disney! ;D

I performed in two plays before I was 30. When I was in the first and second grade. I played Annie Oakley in 1st grade for the end-of-year play, and in the 2nd grade, I was the narrator for The Night Before Christmas. I went for the next 25 years or so, wishing and pretending myself into roles and lights, I learned timing by watching the actors I love, I read plays, I watched films, I filled in on student films, doing the jobs and roles that no one else wanted to do and loving every second of it, but I never really thought I had the chance or a real ability to act.
Several years ago, I met my friend Buffy through one of those odd moments of serendipity that I've honestly come to expect from every minute of life. The very night we met, she sold me on Renaissance festival performance. She was a big part of the local faire - and one of the two certified stage combat trainers - and before the nigt was over, she and I had already begun to choreograph our first fight. I auditioned, got one of the 4 lead roles, playing Herald to the evil prince, and by watching Buffy's hubby Brett do his bad guy best, I learned to improv act and do stage combat. Cast in the role of the good prince's Herald was another new face, my now beloved friend Hamilton. He and I spent a lot of time together that year, learning lines for the staged part of our gig. We called our cousin characters "Rosencrantz" and "Guildenstern" and we became Rosie and Gil to the faire crowd. From Hamilton I began to learn discipline and the tricks of learning lines, not to mention projection. I performed with the faire for four years - first-time directing a cast of 77 (with a show including multiple plays-within-the-play, original musical numbers and a REAL wedding as part of the show!) my third year, and putting together our own entertainment troupe for the last year.

While I was doing the faire - which i did with Chris for 2 years, Chris and I got invited to join a local (Asheville) sketch comedy troupe called the Feral Chihuahuas. That was my first chance to try seriously (ahahaha) writing and performing comedy, and even better, watching other people perform my stuff, and perform things written for me. Timing and characters became my love. Plus the soapbox venue that comedy provides is very satisfying. We went all the way to the Stoneleaf Festival with that gig. 15$ seats for a two week run. It was porn. Love at first laugh.

That inspired us to write the ren-faire show, and then from there, we went on to the 48Hour Film Project, and back to my first love, film making (and I will never leave my first love...)

but then... I discovered true love. That irresistable pointless fling that I cannot help but stray to, despite the insanity and consequences...

A couple of years ago, a new director in town decided to attempt a beautiful, , difficult and dangerous play. When he asked the local theatre veterans who should he talk to about the most difficult role in the play - that of a severely physically and mentally disabled young man, everyone told him to call Chris. Chris has been performing with the local theatre since he was 9. I've never met a more talented actor in person, especially on a local level, and I'm not just biased. The veteran actors' he has worked with have all made a point of telling him what an honor it is to work with him and that they learned from him. He's a natural, and it's huge irony that he prefers being behind the camera or curtain so much. Because the role called for a certain violent physicality between his character and another, I offered to help the director block that with whomever he cast for the other person, because of my stage combat experience. He asked me to audition on the spot, and cast me as that character. He changed my life forever. That experience, the learning, the changing, the challenges, the listening, overcoming fear and my own horrible ego... it was amazing. It was all so new that I didn't have time to realize what was happening to me.

Then last year I saw that they were casting my favorite play - Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. One of my two dream/fantasy roles - impossible to learn, a man's role, no hope of it - but I got cast. I got the Oldman role - the ME role, and beloved Hamilton came back to Guildenstern me. It was so scary, and so hard, and yet we pulled it off. As insane and tough as that experience was, it didn't shake me. Some bungee jumps go more smoothly than others, right?

This spring, I was standing in my temporary Saluda kitchen when I got a call from the woman who played Chris' mom in that first amazing play - Greetings. She said she was doing Beth Henley's "Miss Firecracker contest, and asked me to come in. She said there was a role that no one else she could think of could pull off better... :D How could I resist? It was, without a doubt, , one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. My first time on the main stage (Greetings and R&GaD were in the TLT 'blackbox' theatre), a role I could abandon myself to, other actors that I kew well, admired and trusted, a director who's heart was all the way in it, and an audience who was right there with us every night. Love, love, love, love, love!

Then along came The Little Prince. When I heard - and offered myself to the director as her sketch artist - I was unaware that the summer productions were supposed to be all kids - and in this case, all 8-12 year olds. But she said she thought about my offer, and about the pressure of that role (combined with the fact that the sketch artist never appears on the stage) and decided to cast me. I'd never worked with kids on that level before, and never been in such an elaborately staged production, even at the faire. To watch that unfold, and have such an intensely technical job was such a gift! Dear Lizzie (my 11 year old assistant) and I were on an open 4x8 platform 10-12 feet above the ground, against the back wall of the theatre, behind the sky, with an overhead projector on a smaller platform between us, a monitor, an array of supplies (including our script notebook, transparency boxes, markers, puzzle books and snacks) and our pillows. I was on a headset, so that the booth or stage manager could tell me when the Aviator (Sara Seagle - WHAT an actress!) began to draw so that we could sync, and I recreated the sketches of St. Exupery on the beautiful sunset sky, to the accompaniment of our 9 year old Sophie's percussive sound effects and my friend Wendy's flute and bells. Wendy and I also did the makeup design and helped with the application, so we were deeply entrenched (though when, I ask, are we ever NOT?! :D) and Chris said it was the best youth show he's seen in his 16 years with TLT. Ambitious, complicated - beautiful!

I'll post pictures for several days, enjoy! (And DVD's are available! Go, Chris!)

Much love,

-s

Dear Diary...

heh heh heh.

No, really. Why do we do this? Diary, blog, draw, story-tell*? And why do I ask myself – and you all – this question over and over again? Is it:

a.) because it’s my favorite question?
b.) because I haven’t found a satisfactory answer yet?**
c.) because there is no satisfactory answer – or, more likely there are one per being – and i am banging my head against a metaphorohypothetical wall... again?
d.) because i had more than 12 seconds uninterrupted by work or other active distraction?

Yeah.
I think about that scene from The Color Purple. The one about how we are like flowers and do what ever we can to get God to notice us. It’s the definition of God that seems to set us, each one, apart. For some of us God is each other, or our parents, or own self-approval, for some the classic Heaven-encompassing Father or Mother... For the first time it seems to make sense to me why people try to religiously convert one another. Maybe it is so they will have more people to share their vision of God, and so God’s attention will be more uniform – he/she/it will love all the children equally. Sometimes it seems as if conversion, witnessing, etc. are a way of trying to curry God’s good favor – ‘look at me, mom/dad! I’M the good kid, see?!’ Notice me. Love me more. We try to set ourselves apart, and yet cling so hard to our otherness and never see the difference in consistency and what that does to our peace of mind on a second-to-second basis. It hurts.

As a close friend – and fellow cosmic questioner/storyteller – often not-so-subtly reminds me, the things that piss us off the most are often the things we are guilty of. It is true. But I honestly cannot see anything else in anyone else unless I have truly recognized it in myself first. I don’t feel capable of commenting on things that make me angry in others unless I’ve first dragged myself through that fire and feel certain about what it’s like to be such a dumb-@$$. It’s hard to comment on someone else scorching their feet when you don’t really know why it’s a stupid thing to do. I want to constantly work on not doing and being the things that make me angry, because I know what it does to people. My motives may be personally selfish, but as long as no one ever knows or FEELS that when dealing with me, as long as my motives are not ONLY selfish, then I feel that I am trying actively to make the world a better place to be in. In other words, I am working as hard as I currently know how – and working every day to learn new ways - to keep myself ‘suitable for human consumption’ and still be true to myself. I suppose my own documenting and storytelling helps me keep all of that consistent and real. We all know how brief and easily manipulated human memory is. Hoo boy. And we all know what the mind can do to you when your body is trying to maintain its’ status quo. Why else would abused children grow up to abuse – or wed abusers? The list of bad life choices based on mental choice versus emotional reaction could fill a daily blog in perpetua... Damn those pesky neuro peptides.
But the thing is, see, you are stronger than neuro peptides. The phrase ‘free will’ is enough to rock even centuries’ long established churches. The human mind is ridiculously, incredibly powerful, and yet we still choose to blame biology and sociology and economy. To hell with that! The worst limitation I’ve ever faced – in a life of seriously hard knocks and kinky knots – is my own mental and emotional fear and laziness. My mother is a sleepy kitten compared to that. Because that power is there, no matter WHAT channel my brain is tuned to. If my thoughts are bad or negative – they’re SAM-STRENGTH bad! If my love shine is turned on and focused, I can burn holes through every heart for a hundred miles and light up the sky.
A ‘net acquaintance got angry with me last summer because he read on my Myspace profile that I was one of my own heroes. He said that was impossible, and claimed a vanity that surprised and disgusted him. I’ve had debates with friends on whether being self-centered was a bad thing. I wish, in fact I pray every day, for people to become more self centered. To focus and work on loving and perfecting one’s self. To become a hero to one’s self. Can that really be a bad thing? It seems like it’s the only possible solution to
truly making the world a better place. I think the first thing you learn when you really dive into yourself is that you are part of one big soul. That everyone really is equal, at the core of it, and that what you do to yourself and others circles around and through and back to you. That the people who make you the angriest are probably the ones who need love the most. That you can forgive yourself and others. That you can change yourself and nothing else. That acceptance has it’s time and place, that being strong and loving yourself are good things. That sometimes you have to say no and walk away. That sometimes you have to stay and compromise. None of these are possible if you don’t know and love and trust yourself. It should be your life’s first, most beautiful, satisfying, fun and steady work. And you should never retire.

xo

-s

*Hi, Rob!
**Yo, OCD, in tha’ house! Every side!

A friend who, unfortunately I mostly only have e-contact with asked for a catch-up of what's been going on with me since my last spate o' blogs. I managed to sum it up in a fairly brief essay :) which I will now share with the lot o' ye, slightly edited/extended for the public viewing.

God I'm tired. :)

I'm working 5 part time jobs right now trying to make it possible for both of us to get our own businesses off the ground. I still work for the Wildflour bakery one day a week [more than 2 years now. Thank Goddess for my WildFamily!]. I have a regular nanny job in the summers [keeping Skye and Ari - woot! Art lessons, rehearsals, hang-outs - these girls are down!], and I also do special traveling nanny jobs [I am going to New York* with Elsa next week!].

I started working part-time for UNC Chapel Hill in conjunction with the Council-On-Aging in Hendersonville, up to 20 hours a week (but usually less) [helping make the walking routes in Hendersonville nicer for everyone, but specifically with the elderly in mind.], and I am still keeping the gallery running, doing my art and helping Chris - not to mention VOLUNTEERING to do the kids' plays and other TLT stuff... Yes, I'm a crazy person, but I love all of it. It's all ART or helping people. If I'm real lucky, sometimes it's BOTH! Like the plays. We're doing "The Little Prince" right now. Tonight was opening night! I'm the only "adult" :D in a cast of 35 8-12 year olds. I never appear on stage. I play the Sketch Artist and I sit on a platform above and behind the stage and do live drawing on the "sky". I also did some of the makeup design and application.
Chris is trying to get his videography business off the ground. He's been getting a lot of work from TLT, recording their plays (another up-side to my volunteering!), and the high school and county have both hired him to do some stuff, starting next month. (He's going to need a site pretty soon, too - and he's better at keeping up with his !#$% than I am, too! :D ) He also gets calls from anyone who's filming in the area from other places like LA, NY and the coast. When they come here, they call the local producers and ask for names of reliable local workers and he gets recommended every time. He worked on George Clooney's movie here! (needless to say all the ladies were QUITE excited by that... except me, of course. HA! :) We just did the 48Hour Film project again, too. We had an art auction to raise the $ to do it. It was crazy - but it worked. As soon as we get it up on YouTube, I'll send you the link. We also have a show on cable access in Asheville, called "Videobot". It's a short-film show hosted by toy robots who work in a tv station that I built out of Legos. They're supposed be showing "regularly scheduled programming", but instead they sneak and show the movies they like - which are submitted to us from all over the country. It's funny and silly, and the short films are great. It's all volunteer time, but we've done 11 episodes so far, and won an award. We're YouTubing it soon too, I hope. If not, I'll just send you a DVD. You'll love it, you'll laugh, and it's 99% family friendly! :DSo that's MOSTLY what we're up to. We moved again (after 8 years in the same house - once in Nov., then again in March), and we hope we stay here at least another 8 years. The house is on the river, in the only really flat place in Polk Co. We're renting from my best girl-friends' dad, so the rent $ [which is definitely fair for the space/location AND i have a workshop now!] - and whatever else we do to the property (we've planted gardens!) is going back into the family. Yay, us! We needed some upswing after last fall!

Oh, and we got married!

:D
More later!

Much love,

-s

*We are side-tripping to Hershey Park, an upstate Renaissance festival, and Niagara Falls/Canada! :D

"testing, ,testing... ahem... is this thing on?"

She's baaaaaaaa-aaaaack!

You have been warned!

i'm sad to say that this post won't be as happy as the last couple. :( i had another one of those
!#$% bizarre unbelievable sam-cidents that has left me wounded, exhausted and drugged to the flippers. the hospital report says (and i quote) "multiple dog bites to chest and left thumb."
NO, i didn't try to get friendly with some strangers' "nice" doggie. believe it or not, it happened this morning during a cozy, early morning lie in, watching tv and talking. i had Shinny (the Wheaten Terrier) on the bed with me and gail (after early walkies and sometimes late ones, we all pile into her bed for coffee & trash tv therapy. this morning was 'Nanny 911'), loved up and relaxed. Lola (the Bijon) wanted up and her little teddy bear legs are too short to get her up there. i got up to pick lola up and put her on the bed and shinny, in a fit of jealous rage, viciously attacked little l-o-l-a - and i, caught in the middle, was the only one who sustained any injury - one of which is pretty bad (and it's NOT on my thumb.) we rushed to the hospital, blood all over the floor (which shinny kindly licked up before we got out the door! UGH! i guess the first couple of tastes weren't enough*....). i had to drive 'cause gail can't, so that was real fun, and gail is new enough to the area that we had to look for the frickin' hospital - whee. four hours in the ER - of course we made friends with all the folks in there with us. there were groups of people we met who barely spoke english**, and several different languages, so that was fun. good thing, too, 'cause otherwise, it was !#$% MISERABLE. hurting, oozing, waiting, watching people suffer*** - NOT my favorite way to spend a sunny, gorgeous saturday, you know?
gail was patiently waiting it out, but i couldn't help but be aware of her physical discomfort, and of course i was obsessing about the expense and trouble. and beneath it all, there was the fear of treatment and healing and pain and scarring in a very delicate, not to mention HUGELY ego-based place... :(
the staff was nice - and SO many people here are comics fans, so i bonded with the nurses (all nice looking latin men, darn it...) - but the reality was that the tear on my right breast was such that it could not be stitched - flesh was gouged out and there was no repairing it - and the bite on my thumb was neat enough to need no stitches. i got swabbed, ointmented, tetanused, prescripted (antibiotics, in case of septicemia. YES, i WILL take them all), given a little bag of gauze pads, foil packets of bacitracin, a few bandaids, some tongue depressors (for the ointment, i suppose - or maybe they thought i needed art supplies. who knows?) and a little roll of tape and sent on my merry (ok, not merry. definitely NOT merry) little way. no stitches, no testing, no xrays, nada - and (including the prescription) it cost FIFTEEN !#$% DOLLARS MORE THAN GAIL IS PAYING ME TO BE HERE FOR THE ENTIRE THREE WEEKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
can you !#$% believe that?!?! i cried more over that than even the pain and the vanity issues!
i just figured it out, if you paid the 4 people who handled me 15$ an hour, kick 100$ to the doc who saw me for less than TWO minutes (that would give him 3000$ an hour) then the two band-aids (THEY DON'T EVEN HAVE BATMAN ON!) , 4 packets of ointment, 2 tongue depressors, little stack of gauze, roll of tape and tetanus shot come to approximately EIGHTEEN DOLLARS EACH! oh - they also gave me a little cup of ice water. i suppose they didn't charge me extra for the VERY helpful advice: "Don't break up a dogfight." !#$% *&!%#!

so yeah, it was a rough day.
gail was a trooper. in fact, she just brought me a cup of calming Aveda tea. :) we were both exhausted, but life goes on, so we actually managed a couple of light errands while awaiting my scrip to be filled. we got cuban sandwiches on the way home and we were so hungry that we ate them in the car (gail only had a little melon and cottage cheese for brekkies, and i hadn't even made it that far when the $#*! hit the fan) and then we had to go straight home and walk the little darlings - shinny still speckled with sam-blood.

the day was not a total bust though. we just found out yesterday that my replacement is not coming after all. which means basically helpless gail would be even MORE helpless. :( she had a little meltdown over it yesterday (all of this happened while we were at the pool), but by the time we got home, she had not only come up with a cunning plan that will save her $ in the long run (she was going to have to pay a dog-walker, get someone to drive her to the grocery, etc.), keep her fairly independant, and save her peace of mind, but she had already kicked the plan into action. she ordered one of those grammy scooters, and it came today, and we have already got her successfully walking the dogs (attached to the scooter, so they can't pull on gail) pretty much by herself. the early evening walk i went along, to check out kinks, and the last walk, i just stayed near the house, but within earshot... the new Publix market (which also has a pharmacy) is opening up scooter distance from here in 2 weeks, and she has good friends and neighbors that she can call in a pinch. we will get her stuff re-arranged/re-measured/etc. so that she can manage things easily (take the extra tp out of the high storage cabinets, make sure she has manageably sized food and drink containers, etc.) and she is working on re-learning her world with her temporary (though i think 3 more months of this would seem like an ETERNITY!) limitations in mind.
*whew!*
tomorrow - lord willin' and the creek don't rise - will be an easy day. our only real plan is to go to the latin market for lunch and souvenirs, do a mini errand run and then sit by the pool. oh, and practice not killing the dogs with the scooter - though i think at this point, neither of us would mind TOO much. :(

in other good, strange news, i have an appointment early monday a.m. with a lawyer who specializes in personal injury cases, re: the motorcycle accident back in October. i met him (by sam-incidence) when we took Shinny to the vet on thursday (so nice to have heard in person that all her shots are updated!). when he told us he was a lawyer i said "gosh! you seem so nice
for a lawyer!" and he laughed, then said "well, believe it or not, i got into because i wanted to help people." *bing!* i told him what happened, and he said "Come see me." now both parties have lawyers in Florida - and mine is a nice person! wish us luck. :)

ok, the drugs - and more importantly, the battered little body - say "sleep". i will keep ya'll posted. i am hopefully having a little biscayne bay kayak trip this week too - barring shark attacks, farmhouses falling on my head and freak rains of fishes - so i will tell all!

much love - and more bizarre serendipity,
-sam

*i've heard this about myself... :)
**i actually got a HUGE compliment from one young woman, a Haitian Creole girl - who lives in South Miami, which is significant to the comment - there with her sick baby and ENTIRE family (nice. i was also invited to call her mother, formally known as Sister Calyx, "Maggie". :) her little sister's phone range and i began to sing along with the ringtone and she said "Guhl, you ah SO ghe-tto!" That's like having Liberace say you're so gay! :)
***one of the many highlights was watching a poor homeless woman - drugged and a bit belligerent, perhaps, but needy nonetheless - come in and try to get comfy and when security couldn't make her go, they called the PoPo. strangely, it made me hurt a little less when i thought 'there but for the grace of....'

Can I just say: *siiiiiiggggghhhhhhh!*?

Well, I've been here a week today. I'm homesick, but you know... I'm settling in. Maybe it's the 65-85 degree temperatures (avg. 75, though), maybe it's the nice walks 4 times a day... it could be the adventure and wildlife, or the beautiful scenery, or the pleasant work and/or relaxation...
who knows? Either way, I'm coping. :)

There are some stressful moments. Yesterday I drove into the heart of downtown Miami on the Friday before Superbowl. There were a few - ok, several - moments of !@#$!, because let me tell ya, friends, Miama drivers are not nice. However we made it ON TIME (despite long standstills in more than one place) and without any major stress. A fellow at Cedars (we went for Gail's first post-op visit, xrays and stitches out! woot!) told me that if I could drive in Miami I could drive anywhere. I believe it, too. I am now without fear. :) What's REALLY weird is that today, when we drove into Coral Gables (and actually yesterday, too) I was already starting to recognize landmarks and know where I was in relation to other places we'd been. I've gotten toll booths down, and I am learning to be a little aggressive in traffic - though I LOVE the look on other drivers' faces when I'm nice and let them over/out. :)

On Tuesday I had some nice walks both with the girls and by myself. I started my art projects on this day. Palm trees shed these very sculptural pieces of bark and leaf and bits. I've begun making little sculptures of them and other found shed greenery/branches, etc. around the neighborhood. I've taken pics of most of them so far. I'll try to post some when I can.
After the 4:30 walk, I did a few things around the house and then walked down to the pool. On the way I was completely ambushed by the sunset over the lakes, in a sky as big as a sky should be. I sat on the guard rail beside the lake and watched until my butt hurt (little guard rail, big butt) and then I watched the rest of it while floating in the pool. After a while, it felt as though I was swimming in the sky. That was a happy thing indeed.

Wednesday was exciting too. Gail had to go to Miami to show a condo, so I got to see several beautiful apartments in a 300K> building*, and watch Gail work. Wow. There were some high stress moments that day too - and the next. Selling and closing a piece of property like that, in a market like this - with a bizarre sudden TWO WEEK deadline?!?! you can imagine. and less than TWO weeks after having SPINAL SURGERY. (I told you! I'm here to slow her down! :) She did fine, too. It was amazing. And she never did anything the doc said she couldn't - and she did all the right stuff when she realized she was pushing too hard. *whew*. i like my saluda pace, y'all. i gotta say. :)
Then Wednesday evening, while walking the dogs, I SAW A 10 FOOT (OR MORE) !@#$ ALLIGATOR, ABOUT 30 YARDS AWAY! I've got pics! I've got proof! eeeee!

Thursday was a good odd day. In the midst of phone/pc/work realtor, we went to town with a grocery/errand list. Gail's able to call while I drive, so she worked and I cruised. We had to get a scrip filled with an hour wait, so Gail suggested that we drive to Biscayne Bay National Park, a whole 15 minutes from her house - and right next to an entrance to the EverGlades NP. (did i say *sigh~* already?). On the way, we had to ask a buff, handsome latin cop (who was sleeping in his squad car on the edge of a palm orchard) how to get around the detour. He dead macked on me, via my tattoo (which I get constant comments on here. :), and told me about the tribalwork on his back (I could see ends of it on his biceps peeking out from under his shirtsleeves. Oh yeah.
The Bay of Biscayne is a beautiful thing. You can snorkel there. There are mangrove trees, the ground is coral and birds and tropical fish and lizards everywhere. We walked to the end of the pier and visited the gift shop for cards and to get the KAYAK RENTAL PRICES... eee!
After our sojourn we popped the 15 minutes back into Homestead for scrip, mojito fixings and a bad movie. We ate at some big chain on our first night here and Gail suggested mojitos. After we tasted them, she announced that we should have a quest to find the best mojito during this trip.
Whatcha gonna do, right? When in Buffetville... Thankfully (they're not cheap) we found one we were really happy with on our 3rd or 4th attempt at one of Gails' fave watering holes in Miami. Not only was it delicious, but also non-touristy (i'll explain when i'm making them for you), BUT cute blonde Christine also gave us the recipe. I matched it on the first try. :)
**

Yesterday was the hospital trip, and though traffic was stressful and Gail was feeling the previous two days, I, as my granmaw said: Wrung the goody out of it. :) After traffic warrioring, Gail and I established our spot in the waiting room (we'd brought food AND entertainment - and enough to share - AND there was coffee and hot tea pro bono), then made friends with the entire staff and all the patients (and learned their pets name - Gail works a room like I do!) while we waited for her to be called. When she went in to xrays, I left my bookbag (then one you made me, Jen!) with Maia behind the desk and went out onto the streets. GypsyMagpie me had seen colored umbrellas with food and shiny things around them near the Cedars entrance, so I followed my beak. I was only gone about 30 minutes total, but in that time I bought a pretty wooden and religious medallion beaded bracelet, a bowl of tropical fruit that she peeled and cut in front of me, a bag of hot chicharrones and a sausage dog for nine dollars. I sat down on the curb in the hot hot sun, watching Miami's heart beat around me, stuck out my pale legs and ate my VERY good lunch. I gave my last dollar to a homeless man who was surprised I spoke English and then got back just as Gail was coming back from xray. While we waited for her doc to call we met two nice couples in that waiting room. One lady was a realtor in Key West (with a nice handsome beau and a 2 ft tall mini horse named Honey. :) so Gail and she traded cards. :)
We all drank coffee and tea and talked, and when they all got called I wrote postcards until Gail came out with no stitches and a good report. I got my bag back from the desk. Maia had left but the girl in her place asked where I got my bracelet. She'd had one just like it but wore it as a prayer until it fell apart. I told her about the abuelita at the entrance to metro just outside the gate (who makes all her own, by the way. she was working while i shopped :) . she said she'd go get another on her lunch break. :) On the way out, i stopped for a sip of water and Maia came over. She said "I'm glad you're still here, I wanted you to see this, I thought you'd appreciate it." Then this young woman whom I'd met once, to ask her to hold my bag and traded pleasantries with showed me a letter that an anonymous patient had just left her. It said, almost poetically in it's loving grateful simple sincerity, how much they appreciated her kindness to a helpless person, and how they knew she would be blessed for her goodness. It made me cry. The note, the moment, this stranger choosing me to share with... and I looked up and she had tears too.
Thank you, Goddess.

That evening, shook off the stress of driving and previous days in the pool. Met nice neighbors - and Luigi. :) He's very old and VERY italian. And apparently I'm "molto bello e con un sorriso perfetto..." :D No worries. I can DEFINITELY outrun him.

Today was sleep latish (the girls left me in until 7:15! woot!) then up to clean a little for the maid (get our sheet outta her way) then dressed cute and out to Coral Gables (truly one of the most beautiful neighborhoods in the country) to pick up Mary. We went out for dim sum (yum yum! no chicken feet though Joe! ;) then to shop a little (Barnes and Nobles for me!) then to see Helen Mirren in 'Queen'. We liked it. Afters, we stopped at the bridge near Mary's house...

AND SAW A WHOLE FAMILY OF MANATEES INCLUDING A BABY THREE FEET LONG!!!
noooooooOOOOOOooooooOOOOOOoooOOOOooOOooOOooOOOOooooooOOOOOssshhh!!!!!!!
i got baby manatee pickshures! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*siiiiggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh............*

when we got back to the house, they let me climb onto their boat for more manatee watch. I got pics there, my first taken of me since i got here, and pics of the girls and the boat and the canal.
when we got home gail relaxed for a bit while i took the pups for their daily "Corona Cruise" as Gail has dubbed it. I take a Corona with me on the tea-time walk and we make it a long one, around both lakes (gator patrol!) Gail is going to try her first post surgical Corona Cruise tomorrow - if it's nice... hahahaha!
:)

I'm getting the goody out of it. Gail and Buffy have both gone out of their way to let me know how much they appreciate me in the last couple of days, and that makes me enjoy it all the more. Gail's an easy patient, her house is easy to keep up, her babies are little precious gremlins... we cook and watch movies and do what needs to be done, and fill in the spaces with taking care of ourselves and keeping in touch with the people that keep us in touch with ourselves. Check your mailboxes! If you're not getting postcards, it's 'cause I don't have your address...

Much love.
sam



*May I say that walking around strangers' apartments gives me a certain thrill. *Ahem*. :)
Shut up, Jen. ;)
**BTW, ESPECIALLY if you were a fan, DON'T watch Miami Vice.

hello lads and lasses! it is i, dame fortune's slave, back with another installment of "What the
#$%^ Next?!" :)
i am happy to report that i am writing from sunny Southern Florida. Homestead, to be precise. poor chris is home with the 'kids', and I hear they are in the low teens and even one-digit #'s back home, and though i feel bad for my peeps, i'm very glad to be here. a dear friends' sis (HI BRUFFY! HI GAIL!) has just had major spinal surgery, and i was told that she needed help but what she really needs is someone to slow her @$$ down and keep her from trying to do too much. this woman is mid-50's, had 6 vertebrae re-built LESS than a week-and-a-half ago, and is already chomping at the bit to get back to her busy life. luckily for all of us, she can walk fine, and has great use of her hands (i SERIOUSLY cannot imagine this woman bedridden!) - though her fingers are still a little numb. she has a HUGE scar and of course inner healing tissue to care for, thus a big plastic neck brace to wear 24/7. She can't bend at the waist, nod yes or no, or pick up anything heavier than a.) a manila envelope, her dr. says; b.) 5lbs., she says; c.) a video from blockbuster OR her martini glass, i say. :) basically i'm here to be her hands and help her recovery be nice and smooth as poss. she can't drive or walk her 2 mookie dogs, so that's part of my job, and just generally facilitating her life and recuperation. she's a fun, funny woman with a good life, so aside from missing my family (HI CHRIS! HI LUNA! HI GEORGE, YOU BASTARD!) and friends (HI FRIENDS!), i'm having a lovely time so far.
friday afternnon 'round 3, buffy picked me and my luggage up at the bakery and we headed south. we stopped in fort pierce, fla. around 1 am, got a room, then got up early for some beach time. we stopped at the manatee center for post cards and then had a couple of hours in the sub. as we were walking to the end of the pier before heading on to miami/homestead, i saw a dark spot in the water. i said "buffy, i think i see a manatee!" she said, "nah, i think it's just some sea-weed..." and then he stuck his face out of the water! :D
FIRST DAY HERE, manatee sighting! YAY! that was saturday. since then i've seen lots of birds, all kinds, and a few odd lizards, but gail promises a trip to the keys, where i can possibly SWIM WITH MANATEES in her friend mary's back yard....
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

i will keep you all posted. as for now, life is good. gail is doing well, her 'kids' are good sweet furries (Lola, a Bijon; Sinead, a Wheaten Terrier; and Elsie, a black babycat). we are already plotting many adventures and have had a couple of gentle ones. the traffic's not so bad (i drove for the first time today), her neighborhood is lovely, i got my pool/gym pass today, and we're on a quest to find the best Mojito in town. like i said, life is good. i just wish x was here to share it with me - and luna and george would be in water-fowl/lizard-chasing heaven... *sigh*

much love, more later,
-samma

Oh, to blog! perchance to dream!


HAPPYHAPPYHAPPYHAPPY! this is one of my top three best Christmas presents for sure!*
The site has been down for various reasons, all of them to do with natural disasters and the lack of money that comes with them.
To catch you all up - while the site is still up (and Kevin, I will call you on Tuesday, as soon as the holiday is over and get square with you. BLESS YOU! :D Thank you!), on October 7, I was in Myrtle Beach with Chris, it was our anniversary weekend, and he had to go on this loathsome Bike Week shoot, so i decided to go with him so we could be together and lessen the overall yuck of the job. Things were tight-ish (slow at the gallery, and I'd just started taking on more days there...) so Chris' sweet folks lent us 50$ for a nice seafood dinner while we were there (no, W!@V did not give him any allowance. The didn't WANT to pay for a hotel room, but instead to try to get a room with strange biker women. Hm.***). We started 'rolling' around 11am. The day was cold, there were drunken bikers EVERYwhere, it was souvenir strip-mall hell, there were issues with the talent - it was hard to maintain the perky - but we were doing ok. We knew that at 6:30pm we were OUTTATHERE and on our way to a good seafood dinner, then a long drive home with our lovely Tamagachi (Chris' mp3 player, loaded with all our faves...). HOWEVER, at about 6 pm, I was standing inside a booth, actually, inside, in-between TWO booths, tents, one with little handmade hats and the other was a guy who sold clothing and patches and did patch stitching on an antique Singer. I was just pointing the hats out to Chris when I heard someone yell "HEY! HEY!" and I turned just in time to see a man coming toward me on a motorcycle. He hit me head-on, knocked me about 4 feet through the air - and several boxes full of beer - so I got to land on tarmac, amidst broken beer bottles - yippee. The man got off of his 1938 Indian motorcycle (which he parked carefully after hitting me) and and then rushed over and pulled me up off the ground. He said "God, it's a good thing you've got a few extra pounds on you!" and then the fun began...
Needless to say we spent all evening in the ER, i was beer-wet and cold the whole time, and though they x-rayed me thoroughly they did no internal injury checks. Then they doped me up and sent me on the 5-hour ride home - which turned into 10 hours because Chris was so exhausted, and I was unable to drive or stay completely awake, so we spent a couple of hours here and there sleeping on the roadside.
The next two weeks were tough. In pain, out of work, unable to care for myself and Chris unable to miss work to care for me. If it weren't for my girlfriends, the beloved Valkyries, i don't know what I'd have done... Finances started slipping more, I couldn't even do my jewelry work, much less manage the shop. Our computer was down, so I had to outsource all my press work, and then Chris got the shingles. Despite the pain, he never missed a day of work, and kept pushing through, because things were getting so lean. A little over a month later - I had been sitting the shop for two weeks and starting to get mobility/feeling/coordination back enough to do my work - we went on our first outing since the accident. We went to the Charlotte ren-faire with the Stewart and the kids. It was a nice day. We got home late-ish, and right as we were heading to bed, there was a bright flash, the walls began to sizzle, the lights got brighter and then all of our electronics exploded. Let me just say at this point that there was MAJOR freakage on my part. We were trapped inside a dark, sizzling, smoke-filled house - with both of our animals - and couldn't go outside because of the live wire sizzling on the ground outside. The wind had dropped a limb and knocked out our ground wire. The firemen came and told us that it wasn't safe to live there (this was less than 2 weeks before Thanksgiving) anymore.
O' the freakage had only just begun.
SO. We began to pack up my life of the last 8 years. I've never lived anywhere longer. I was still feeling the effects BEING HIT BY A !@#$ MOTORCYCLE****, Chris was struggling to work more than full time and help me cope with the disaster. The computer - which we had JUST had Kevin repair - the TV, DVD player, etc - everything that was plugged in - were destroyed, and we had no place to put all our stuff, no place to comfortable be together... it was pretty damned bad.
We kept working though, and good fortune sent us a comfortable rental with a woman willing to lower the rent to help us. We had to borrow money from his parents to pay the rent because my landlord had already spent all of our Nov. rent (this happened on the 12th) and all the money Chris had made in overtime working at both stations full time in the summer was in our propane tank (and we thought we were being so smart..) at the old house and he was unable to reimburse us for that as well. About a week after we moved in Chris' car - our only working vehicle at the time (the Duke power guys and our neighbor had to PUSH my truck across the road at 2 am on the night of the !@#$ because it wouldn't start... that was a low moment, lemme tellya.) - just died. Engine froze. Never to be repaired. Two days after that, his boss called him in EARLY to fire him. Our power never got reconnected in the new place (they claim we never called), so when our new landlord had her name taken off - as we asked her to do per the Duke Power instructions from the call they claimed never happened - they charged us 250$ to reconnect.


...

...

...

As they say, when you're at the bottom, there's only one direction...
I started working my @$$ off because Christmas is a good time for my work. We both started taking any and all part-time work we could get, and feeling thankful that we had some choices.
We started saving, we made some phone calls and found another car that we were able to 1/2 pay, 1/2 barter for. We got my truck running, we were gifted with a tv and dvd player from a couple of good friends, and his parents gave us their old pc - all three of which are key to my work. I have been working from before sun-up to late every day making things to sell, doing commissions, making Christmas prezzies and working for The Shepherds' Feast, which is a Christmas day feast for any and all, with music and prezzies for children and poems and all good things. I'm tired, but it's been worth it. I'm really lucky that my work brings me so much joy. Chris has been working his @$$ off too, pulling all my slack. I took on extra delivery routes and baking days and babysitting, so Chris had to watch the shop and help make the Christmas prezzies and keep up the house and make sure I was eating. His family were more than kind and helpful and thanks to them and good commissions, we were able to fill the propane tank at the new house (which, by the way, is beautiful and big and full of light. I wish we could keep it. We have until April. If you know of any nice rentals, call us!). We have socked away enough for rent and basic bills for the next two months. We're not paying for the internet, we got rid of our storage place, we're using less gas - because we can walk to work every day. We have yet to pay back the parentii and the WebClaus, but they are on our list, and little by little, we are rebuilding our media empire. We were even able to splurge a little at Christmas. I used my generous and kind bonus from the bakery to buy myself a pretty pair of dress Keens (in black - so now i have summer outdoor ones, closed/winter outdoor ones - good for work and in the kitchen and dress ones! happy feet!) and Chris bought a ticket to Filmapalooza in March. We're saving for his plane ticket now, but his grandma lives in the city, so we don't have to pay for his room or car!

One of the things that has hurt me the most through all of this, was the loss of the computer - and specifically of my website. Not only was the computer essential to my work, but there are so many people with whom I can only reliably and inexpensively stay in touch through the 'net. I have felt starved for their contact. And I was able to see how much my website means to me as an ability to express myself and make sense of my life and the pain that comes at hard times, both new and remembered. The fire brought back hard old memories - the oldest, in fact. The moving, the desperation... and I could only reach out so far. It was hard. I intend to write my webhost - who has been a friend and has posted my page for little - really nothing - for years and see what I can do to thank him and reimburse him for this gift. It was so good to sign on (we're at Sarah's, Raven-sitting while she's away) and see messages to my blogspot... it made me feel REAL again.
I will do what I can to keep Sam's Day Off alive... 'cause it's plain to me how much Sam's Day Off helps keep me alive, and from the messages, some of you, too. Not only alive, but updated. Stewart has been promising me that as soon as we can, we will update, but neither hid not Kevin's kindness has been enough in the face of this steaming pile of adversity.
However, it's a new year, and I am blogging right now (HUZZAH!) and things are already looking better, so ONWARD AND UPWARD!
Thank you all! We love you and are grateful for you to the last molecule of us!
XOXOXOXOXOX
Sam and Chris and George and Luna


*Aunt Sue's happy news, my lovely warm shawl from M-O-L, and I'll put in Stewart's happy news to make it FOUR! Four best Christmas presents! *Oh, !@#$.* **
**Sorry Python joke.
***by the way, this is absolutely true.
****(his clutch broke, btw. I mean, the bike is !@#$ 68 years old, hello! AND he was being filmed by the !@#$ Discovery Channel when it happened. They INTERVIEWED ME - in THAT STATE. My !@#$ luck, huh?)

To KF - who's birfday is actually tomorrow - June 3. :)

There is a girl in the Kingdom of Loathing,

who’s pretty !@#$ 7337.
She’s 100% AdventuressQueen from her head down to her

cute lil feet.
She’s Naughtier than Teh Sorceress

and Bossier than Teh Bat
(and of this I’m sure, because I know her well and she’s always stealing my hat!).
She gives good prezzy and she makes good jokes,
and whenever you’re down, she gives good “pokes”*.
She’s a whole lot sassy, a little bit sneaky,
- and when she hoses teh Yilf, it gets pretty squeaky,
it’s her birfday today, so let’s all be Geeky –
Celebrate! Get Kaos-Freaky!

MUCH love!D.L’O


*for non-adventurers, this is NOT a naughty thing.

My 00100011 00110001 Girl*
By Sam Lovelace

This is part of the reason why I've been so quiet lately. I've also finished 70 new pieces of jewelry, two wishbooks, and painted 4 articles of clothing, plus done all the rack cards, business cards and tags for the shop and rack cards for Karen... not all that I wanted to do, but a good start. I still have to make her dress (she's going to have a clear plastic 50's sundress :) tomorrow and get her lights put in (her brain and heart light up - whee!), get all my jewelry tagged, get my display stuff in shape (it's together, i just need to dust and polish). The Saluda Arts Festival is this Saturday, May 20, from 10 - 7. Please come out - and wish us luck!
I've worked myself sick and silly, but every single second, even if my back was aching or my fingers throbbing, was a moment filled with love and joy and appreciation of my accomplish-ments. it's felt good to have other people '00' and 'ah' over my work (and to have Rick Conn shake my hand and congratulate me, as if i'd given birth, and talk shop with me as a serious fellow artist for the first time in all the years i've know him*** ee! :) but the best feeling is standing back from my work (or in one case, spreading all my beautiful jewelry out over the pale blue coverlet... :) and feeling my heart fill like a new well with satisfaction and pleasure. YAY!
I could never go back to YellowBureaucratRedTapeBrownNoseLand, and the way my commissions are stacking up, it looks as if I won't have to. :) (*knock wood*. psh, i think i'd start a !#$% boiled peanut stand or something before i'd go back to micromanagementhell - "i'd rather die on my feet than live reading memos!")
Ok, back to the grind... i have a 1:00 deadline today that can't be missed. :) Thank you all for supoprting me and encouraging me - and for buying my art! i'll post more pics of my botgirl when she's finished.
Much love,
-s.


*
01010100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 00111000 00101101 01100010 01101001 01110100 00100000 01000001 01010011 01000011 01001001 01001001 00100000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110011 01101100 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01100100 01100101 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 00100000 00100010 00100011 00110001 00100010 00101110 **

**
This is the 8-bit ASCII translation of the binary code for "#1".

***not that this lovely, amazing man has EVER talked down to me, and he has always encouraged me, but let's face it, he's in a COMPLETELY different league than me. BIGtime. :)

we've had a strange tragedy touch us recently, and investigating it led me to read the blogs and live journals of some sad, desperate, broken, lonely - to the point of dangerous to themselves and others - people. i wrote this in response to that, as a prayer, as a message to people to ask for help, as a reminder.


A Prayer for Strength and Time

God make me a prayer wheel.
Let me be a drum that hums and sifts the sins of our imagining.
Let me be the etched, worn, scarred and resonant cymbal that sends the pleas of broken people to your infinite ears.
Let me be spun, and sung to, weathered by the hopeful pressure of all hands, each different, each worthy of at least one bid to Heaven.
Let me be a voice,
Let me be a vision,
Let me be a call to fall to one’s knees and weep, open-hearted in gratitude.
Let me be part of the subconscious tremor, deep and rhythmic as the night sky,
that breaks mountains and moves your Heart.


-s.l.lovelace 04/21/06

Happy Birthday, Hypo Luxa!

Warning: the contents of this particular blog are only for very depraved and naughty individuals - especially those celebrating their birthday today! ;)

I hope you enjoy your prezzie, dear! I am in all of these pics (yes, even the one I like to call "Oops, How'd That Get In Here?" - that's my little hand there on the left. I'd just been knocked to the floor by a drunkiehumpling girlfriend and took the opportunity - camera always in hand - as I found it! :), and our dear Andalouse is in a couple of them too. These are from last years' Dragon Con, and yes, we were Reform School Fairies! ;D

I got up early this a.m. so you could begin your day/week/weekend of birthday-ness in the spirit of girls in vinyl dresses and black-tattered-pierced wings with tattoos, garter belts, black eyes and big, um, GRINS. Oh and people who like you, despite the fact that that they think you are a figment of their imagination. ;D

Have a good one, darlin'!
Much love (and more blue messages),

D.L'O

america by sl lovelace



Happy Anti-Valentine’s Day, CG. (I posted the whole thing, along with your KoL valentine, on my LJ page. I thought the geeks would enjoy it. There's also a nice link to some Star Wars valentineage... ;)

I wrote “We should show our love and appreciation EVERY day and not just on Feb. 14” on the vans’ back window this morning. Hee. Someone said it was the holiday specifically meant to make geeks feel even worse, and I’ve discovered a new level of valentine’s day suck – if you're seeing someone, and are any kind of a decent person, you feel bad for your single friends trying to maneuver their way through this ridiculous marketing scam-day too. Then there’s the whole pressure to spend and do if you are seeing someone. !#$% that. Chris used the “holiday” as an excuse to buy me a watch that I needed (under 20$) and I used it as an excuse to buy him the office supplies that he needed. Stuff we had to buy, anyway. I also did him a piece of art, which I will share with you as well. :) heheheh. I like the idea of a day really celebrating love, but why just romantic love? And because it’s romantic love, there’s all the stupid, formulaic present crap too. !#$%^&* it to !#$%!

What really sucks is that I LOVE the decorations/functions/clothes for this crap-ass bull$#*! holiday, of course I do! Hearts, lace, sparklies, flowers, ribbons, chocolate, red, pink, black, satin, velvet, lingerie, dances, whee! – ‘Pie Heaven! So I think that we should do two things. On Feb. 14, we should try to start a revolution and take the romantic strictures out of V-Day. We should celebrate Love day, love your whatever, mom, car, dog, self, girls called "Susie-Q" - all of the above, just celebrate Love, in whatever way (hopefully NOT supporting The Industry – if you want to go traditional, pick flowers, make a card, cook dinner – if you feel you have to buy, buy handmade and local...) - you see fit. Not everybody has a boy/girlfriend, but everybody has some love. This would be a good day to remind each other of that. If you think you don’t have any love go look for some other people – or creatures who might feel the same way. That will make them feel loved, and they’ll love you for it.

The OTHER thing we need to do – and this will help ze revolution – we should move the décor/lingerie/chocolate side of this stupid-ass-money-making-for-the-!@#$-flowercardcandycrap-corporation-so-called “holiday”* (I got your treats at a local $tree knockoff store, and some of it – like the ribbon, was leftover xmas! Yay!) TO MY BIRTHDAY – and the birthday of anyone who wants a champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberry (ok, in your case, hazelnut...), spa/facial/manicure, new lingerie, velvet, ribbons, hearts, flowers, dress-up, get sparkly, go out, go dance, go see a movie -etc. birthday! (Wow, wouldn’t it be cool to have a friend who’s birthday came on Love Day?**)

IT IS DECREED! ;)
VIVA LA REVOLUTION!

Happy Love Day. For what it’s worth, I love you. (to blogdom: well, most of you. Some of you are just gonna’ have to wait ‘til your birthday.)
Much love,
-;pie)


*which, as someone else pointed out to me today, you don’t even get off work...

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WetRats! Now there’s a guy who needs a “spa day” and some chocolate*** if I ever saw one.

***not to mention his own birthday footnote.

These pics are for Chris (Lorenalis, not X) and all of us who are missing summer tastes and smells and sights and sounds (not to mention the feel of warm sun on your skin, or warm night air under a full moon, with a big bite of cotton candy melting on your tongue...). Soon, soon!

And to you, Carol. :) You understand me. We are like two old lions. :)

Welcome to 'Your Arts Desire'...



Here are some pics to illustrate the nicer part of yesterdays' blog. There's the twig chair that sits by the door of the shop (that white wrought iron thingy in the window is one of my displays), and that's Linda, our founding mum standing out in our parking lot... she was being my photo assistant that day. Here are two of her pieces that I think really show her range of style, from whimsical and detailed, to primitive and spiritual. She also did our nice sign. The other day, she let me have some white porcelain to sculpt a hand and a neck to display my jewelry on, and now she says I should also do a sexy foot and ankle in a nice high-heel! I'm going to do a wedgie sandal so I can paint the toenails! :)
I'll post some pics of other artists and my own work next, and I have a better pic of the storefront somwhere too.
Much love,
-Sam

Happy new year, everyone.
I know, it’s nigh mid-February, but you all know that sometimes, I need a good run-up. In some cases, as much as 37 years.
I’ve been thinking a lot since Christmas, about what this year might hold in store. Especially about the fact that I am creeping into 40 as a person that I’m not exactly proud to be. I love myself – but not enough. I like myself more than I love myself. Respect, admiration and love are most often NOT the same things. But there are so many things that I am sorry for and ashamed of. I am sorry that I am not a better friend (though I know that you all know that when I try and take the time, I give it my whole heart... Maybe that’s part of the problem – whatever I do I give it my whole heart, and while that is in my view, there is nothing else. I don’t think that means I have a narrow view. Sometimes (too often for my sanity’s sake) I can see and feel huge masses of the worlds’ pain, I feel like I’ve glimpsed the whole of it once or twice. But at those times, it is almost impossible to see ANYthing. I could cut off my hand and not notice.
I’m sorry that I’m not a better sister/niece/cousin. I’m sorry that I’m so bad at keeping in touch and keeping what are, to me, social promises. I think of my family and friends all the time. My closest family* and my closest friends** I think of every day, sometimes several times a day, but it is always while I am doing other things. Driving my mind and heart and body to not be still
I have discovered that I suffer from ... I suppose a kind of mania; maybe OCD of some variety, or maybe just finely tuned (or just highly strung) human nature ; but if I let myself get still and quiet for too long, I get deeply, messily, uncontrollably sad. (See, I am suddenly thinking about specific family members again...) It takes a lot of intense work to keep me distracted enough to not feel the whole of it. If I want to relax or ... not work, not be busy... I have to be either a little inebriated (a single glass of wine, thankfully, is enough to serve this purpose, though a martini or g&t upon occasion is nice.), or have something else occupying my conscious mind (a really good movie or book is the best) or else my unconscious mind will almost immediately collapse me into a screaming, crying, lying-on-the-bottom-of-the-tub, miserable heap. Not fun. Chris really hates it. Fishing me out of the tub, sobbing or trying to coax me out of the bottom of the closet are the worst. Ok, second worst. Sometimes I get mad instead of sad.
Of course, complete annihilation of the reality of my past and the awfulness the whole world over is not only unrealistic and detrimental, but it’s also a moral crime to ignore your own problems or any one elses, as well as ignore the true awful*** beauty of god’s creation. However, when one of your main problems is how suicidally hopeless and depressed you get when you allow yourself to be aware of the scope of others’ pain, things get a little tricky.
My art is the balance place. It’s the steam-valve. It’s where I can stay busy and vent my feelings. I can also use it to alleviate my financial struggle a little, and add a little art to some lives. I can spend the time when I am creating and venting meditating on what’s troubling me, or thinking about my loved ones or praying for the alleviation of the suffering of others. I thank the powers that be – even if those are just my !@#$%* parents’ lucky accidental genes – every day for the gift of my creative and learning ability, for without it I would be dead or worse.

This is still no excuse for not being a better sister, friend, niece, neighbor, correspondent, person-in-general. I don’t live as well or responsibly as I should. I am faaaaar from model citizen, I don’t think that Jesus cares if I’m a Christian or not****, I need to take better care of myself, I’m unacceptably judgmental and impatient – Christopher, I’m sorry a thousand times over every day – I’m a packrat and a bad housekeeper. I worry that kids will look up to me. I don’t listen as well as I should (but I promise you all that I listen MUCH more than it appears I do!). I’m stubborn, oh dear god, am I stubborn. I feel bad for all of my friends, and I really do try to rein in these terrible things, to control them and teach myself to feel differently about things.
My new years’ resolution last year was to not be such a doormat – to be more open about my true feelings. This made people laugh and I failed miserably on the only important count. (Do ask me about this sometime, Andi, when the mood is right, and you don’t have any heavy, blunt objects in your hand.) I know why Chris and others laughed, but I think I meant, along with being more open and honest, that I also wanted to try to be more gentle and kind and open-minded. *Phew*. This is how I know what a bad person I can really be, because I have been consciously trying to curb my terrible nature all year, and so I have been more aware. Again my friends, I am sorry.
This years’ resolution is to be less forward with my opinions. *Whew*. I am going to need energy bars, a suicide watch, and maybe my own little sherpa full of monks in the back yard. I haven’t abandoned last years’ either. I suppose the ultimate goal is to merge those two ways of being (as if I might even ever successfully achieve EITHER?) and so be spare in my judgment and opinions, and when I do speak, then people will hopefully know that I’ve really given it some thought, that it is important to me, and that I am truly meaning to be honest and kind.

The people I have been most sorry about not keeping in better contact with are Sandy, my siblings (Karly et al are siblings), Aunt Sue and Tedd. Especially Sandy. I feel like I should ask for forgiveness, but don’t really think that I should be forgiven, or that it would change anything. I simply have a hard time forcing myself to slow down (not to mention visit the past) for anything that isn’t within my peripheral vision. Even my friends here who live in Asheville, 45 minutes away and dear Sarah, who is just in the valley, and even Stewart of all people, have to call me and just sort of demand my time. In order to spend time with Sarah last night, I had to take my work over (making journals for channel 13 & the shop) and we put Corpse Bride on. I am happy to report though that work was abandoned, we half-watched the movie, vented and plotted and fantasized and laughed and talked art and inspiration, ate some pizza, looked at funny stuff on the ‘net. It turned out that the whole purpose for bringing my work stuff over was to inspire Sarah to get her art supplies in order, get her studio dusted out, and plan an art-supply (and club clothes! Woo!) shopping trip – yay! (Am not having to try too hard to comfort myself over the guilt of not getting some work done...)

[ok, Sue, Here’s the news for Alice! :]

And speaking of work, and how I'm keeping all my demons at bay, for those of you who don’t know (some folks have had a sneak preview), here’s what’s happening. I’ve been learning to cook in a gourmet restaurant since September (I started there not long before we auditioned for 'Greetings!'). It’s called Persimmons Bistro & Tea Room. I LOVE it. They cook world cuisine (which translates to: whatever suits chef/diners’ fancy). So we have sushi Tuesday and prime rib Thursday. Then there might be a wine dinner night with elk and boar, or maybe a little quail eggs and truffle oil. Fresh fish shipped from Hawaii each week, good cheeses, good wine, good crew. There’s a little tea room with pastries, good teas and coffees, cappuccino, espresso, and awesome lunches, hot and cold. Chili, potato leek soup, prime rib stew, “Pumpkin Molasses Bisque” mmmm!!! From simple chicken salad and curry chicken salad to whatever we feel like cooking. Chef always has some gorgeous chops or ham or chicken in there, Sara does the main chicken and pasta salads, and I handle the weirdies – thai coconut noodles, pasta jambalaya, mandarin roasted tofu kebabs, vegan salade nicoise – I like the spicy and foreign and healthy (believe it or not). My Indonesian rice salad (a variation on moosewood, nink) is my most popular, but my tofu kebabs and my bacon/sour cream/horseradish/chive potato salad are close. I spend two days a week there (T/W – I’m still delivering bread on Mondays. One of my stops is Persimmons. We make our own focaccia, but all of our sandwich bread is Wildflour. :) And spend sometimes half of Wed. and Thu. in the pastry kitchen with Ally. That is really an education. I have made some of the most beautiful, delicious deserts in the last several months, but there was a time when I would have honestly admitted that, though I can make some good stove-top soul food, a mean salsa, and even some damned good biscuits and corn bread, I was NEVER a baker. Too much precision and patience involved. Too much actual measuring and mixing - too delicate. I couldn’t even really do a good job on boxed cakes. But having a good place to work and learn, a good range of well-organized ingredients, and a very skilled and patient teacher can make a lot of difference. There is a lovely zen to baking, and it is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, an art.
Debi even asked me if I’d guest-chef a brunch at the Wildflour this season.
Wow.

I get off work early enough on M/T/W/T that if I need to work on jewelry, commissions or whatever pending projects I have, I can get things settled in the house, have dinner with X, then set up my work tables in front of the couch and he and I can watch a movie while I bead or draw or whatever.

Then on Fridays, I get up and drive to Saluda with Chris and my little suitcase, we have a nice breakfast at the bakery, and then I take my little key, and go through the courtyard, past the other pretty little shops (The Brass Latch and The Gardeners Cottage – mm!) and unlock the door to OUR OWN SHOP – “Your Arts Desire”. My friend Linda got the bright idea to start an artists’ co-op in Saluda. When we began, there were 6 of us. Now there are 14, and the shop is beautiful. We are all paying our shop bills and making a profit on top of that. The ‘founding members’ all mind the shop one day a week, and my day is Friday. I take my bead stuff, and maybe a book. I turn on all our little lights (Dave Prudhomme, our NOLA-born wood-turner bought and installed tracklights!) and do a general check over all our pretties - We have paintings and drawings, ceramics, handmade silver, turned bowls, hooked rugs, hand-painted pillows and handmade purses, fused glass jewelry, pretty birdhouses, hand-made greeting cards, ornaments, blown glass, and of course, “Southern Charms” beaded glass jewelry and handmade journals. :) I record the daily balance (we even have a checking account and tax numbers and all that grown-up, real stuff! ) and write in the journal that we keep. I read a little maybe, and drink my coffee, then I put on some nice music, set up my bead-stuff, put on a pot of water for cocoa later, and work and wait for visitors and other artists to drop in! We have a little class room, so that we can teach classes, and there’s stuff for sale in there, too. We all pay less than 40$ a month for the privilege, and we all have say in what we sell and how the shop looks. It’s a good peaceful group. Everyone gets along, everyone supports and inspires each other, and everyone sells stuff. It is my Arts Desire. :)

Then, there’s the big news (or “What does Sam do on the Weekends?”) Well, usually take a stab at a little housework, find time to see Chris’ folks or my friends, or even just hide a little, veg and work and watch a movie while I do laundry, and I’ll still have some weekends for that, but at least two weekends a month, I’ll be out researching, planning and preparing for my travel show that will be coming to the new cable access channel 20 in Asheville, URTV. :D :D :D
It’s called “A Lowlanders’ Guide to the Mountains” (for now. Things have a way of changing, and I’m cool with that, but...) I chose that title because no matter how beautiful it is here, it is still not, and will never be, home. From what my siblings tell me, neither is home anymore, not since last September, so that adds an element to this show, too. I have spent a lot of time roaming these valleys and towns, looking for the places that remind me of home. Not just the land, though I do miss flat deep water and big open sky, but the people, the old general stores, the places to eat that have lots of trucks with dog-boxes parked outside. You get the drift – at least, if you’re a true southerner you do. :)
My show will feature those aspects of all the hundreds of beautiful little out-of-the-way places within a days’ drive of Asheville. Lawn art, old-timers in hardware stores, good diners, nice little shops, interesting local people and history. This area is so rich, and I know I will enjoy this exploration. Chris is producing the show – meaning he’s handling all the non-art part of it, as well as the very important art part of it, he will be my cameraman. I am going through the local college radio stations to get music from local bands - bluegrass, gospel, country, jam, whatever fits the towns I’m featuring, and will get some good exposure (hopefully) for local bands. The people at URTV are stoked, and so are Chris and I. He is also producing his own show, and there’s been lots of buzz amongst the film/media art crowd in Asheville about that. It’s called “Videobot” and he’ll be showing lesser known independent short film and video, hopefully featuring lots of local talent, but also national and international film and music too. His very first submission came from THE Capitol Records in Hollywood. We were so excited! :)

So much to do, so much to learn, but we really are, in our small way, living our dreams.

I suppose this is my way of saying that I know I’m not physically, consciously a good correspondent, and that I’m aware that I should seem more present. But I’ve never been, and I’ve tried. I have little spurts, and I’ll get a wild hair and send a card, or even (*gasp!*) call somebody, but then I feel guilty about whoever I didn’t write to or call, and have to spend more time distracting myself from how guilty I feel and work even HARDER. I can at least let you all know that I love you, and think of you, and if you were nearer, you would at least see me and talk to me more than once a year or so. I manage to see some of my local girlies at least once a month. That’s a good record for me. I shamelessly admit that I appreciate it when people call me, because often I will just stop what I am doing and catch up a little, or call back when I can, because otherwise, I just use my phone for practical calls.
The other thing I can assure you of is that, even if I weren’t so consumed with work and art and sadness, I would still be a bad correspondent, maybe an even worse one, out of shame or further negligence, so I’m glad that I am furiously filling my time with good, productive stuff instead of all the bad things I could be doing - things I have done in the past. From couch potato to loony bin ward... *sheesh*. Now that I finally have the internet again, I try to check my mail every other day at the least, and to write a blog every few days. I’ve just been putting off a real blog until now, because I had all of this to say, all these “I’m sorrys”, and all these shameful admittances, and even though I’m not sure why I should hope for it, it’s nice to feel forgiven, which in my mind means: loved and understood.

Thank you.
-sam




*Joe, Ellie, Jeff (Happy Birthday, “Ole Man”), Shawn, Mandy, Charlyn&Clan; Sue&Clan, Robbie, etc. – even, maybe sometimes especially the ones gone, or not in my life at all.

**Sandy, Rory, Ninka, Pablo, Karl, Hank, Terry, Joey, LeLa sisters&clan, Pam... – y’all all know who y’all be.

*** Awful:
1. Extremely bad or unpleasant; terrible: had an awful day at the office.
2.Commanding awe: “this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath” (Herman Melville).
3.Filled with awe, especially: Filled with or displaying great reverence .Obsolete. Afraid.
4.Formidable in nature or extent: an awful burden; an awful risk.

****I really do believe in my heart that he loves me just as I am.

Good morning and SURPRISE! Guess who's back online? Today's post - and hopefully many future, (fairly) regular posts to come - has been brought to you by Dell comprudahs, Epson printer/scanners, Fuji Finepix, Alltel DSL and my sweet beau who used his graduation $, birthday $ & wiles to hook all of this up. :) THANK YOU, X!

I have LOTS of good news to share, but this mornings' pre-work (even pre-bath & coffee) post will be a short and simple one. I am posting this as an illustration for Seamus, but I don't think anyone will complain. Seamus is a new dad, and I was telling him how much I love those little downy baby-heads, and of course I had to share tales of my little local cadre of babies, my 2 year olds - Aeryn, Ariana & Elsa (with little bitty Izzy coming up behind - she's about 9 months now, and I don't have pics - yet!). Yes, Ally, I was telling him how funny it is to watch parents get to the point where they can leave their little ones with a sitter and that I would laugh at him and Harv-mama when the time comes. I feel extra privileged at being one of the trusted sitters, (Andi even let me keep Aeryn (Duckie) when she was little little!)
So what better way to use all this nice new equipment than to shamelessly auntie-brag? Here are my girls and their little downie heads: Aeryn in her Xmas pic, Elsa-Bug in pink and Sprout i n blue downtown shadow...
oh, how blessed I am!
more blog later, and
much love,
-s

Here's the article from today's TDB about our play - WHICH OPENS TOMORROW!!! AUGH!! EE! WHEEEE!!!
:D
Please come see it - all the info for calling for tickets is here, or if you wanna, come see it free tonight for the final dress rehearsal!

"TLT’s ‘Greetings!’ offers laughter, love and miracles"
November 30, 2005
When Tryon Little Theater “Greetings!” director Peter Saputo was recently asked “What’s your play about?”, he quickly responded: “Oh, about two hours!”
Giving a sound-bite summary of this very special play is not easy. “Greetings!” brings rich delighted laughter from its audiences, and also touches the heart deeply. And as one critic said, “‘Greetings!’ should become as much a part of the winter holiday season as ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and ‘A Christmas Carol.’” Says Saputo, “What is this play about? It’s about a family. A family at Christmas. It’s about religion and about our beliefs in religion. It is about how we come to have those beliefs and why we cling to them. It is about challenge. Challenges to our belief systems; challenges to our ways of life and those daily routines that keep us comfortable and feeling safe; and it is about what happens to us when something unthinkable comes along and challenges everything we believe in. In other words, it is about two hours. Two very busy and event-filled hours.” Phil and Emily Gorski (Mike Johnson and Frances McCain) are a staunch Catholic family, living in Pittsburgh and preparing for Christmas, which is just around the corner. Their two sons, Andy (Scott Gramer) and Mickey (Chris Riddle), will be sharing this holiday with them. Andy is a TV ad copy writer in New York. He has been raised Catholic and although he maintains a religious attitude, he is what is called a “fallen-away” Catholic. Mickey, his younger brother, though in his 20s is mentally disabled and has the intellectual capacity of a three-year-old. Mickey does now and always has resided at home. This particular Christmas will be a special one for the Gorski family, in more ways than one. Andy is bringing home his fiancée, Randi (Sam Lovelace), a Jewish atheist. While Andy has not become an atheist himself, he accepts Randi’s point-of-view and finds no problem with her belief system. This will definitely not be the case for the parents, especially Phil, the father. This rakes up old wounds and battles between the father and son which threaten to come to a head on this particular holiday. Suddenly, however, they are visited by an “entity” that has taken up residence in Mickey’s body. His name is Lucius and he refers to Mickey as his “host.” It seems that Mickey has “invited” Lucius to be there this Christmas to share his wisdom and his love with this warring family. Concludes Saputo, “So. What is this play about? Well – it is about a miracle. It is about family and love and religion. It is about two hours.” “Greetings” will play at the Tryon Little Theater Workshop, 516 South Trade Street, Dec, 1-11: Thursdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m., and Sundays at 3 p.m. The box office is open 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. and an hour before each performance. For reservations: 859-2466.

WARNING:
The following is an actual "You know what really !@#$% me off...?" RANT. If you are of a delicate disposition, please skip this and wait for my next "pretty pictures, nice words" post.
(Warning #2: These are some things that have been bugging me for a while, so go potty, get a drink, settle in... and please feel free to reply/chime in/gimme your two cents/ask if I'm talking about YOU at my www.samsdayoff.com guestbook or email me.) "May Bri-bro be with you." "And also with you."

These rants are a result of a discussion with a couple of most trusted friends who, when in frustration and desperation I asked them how to broach these very delicate subjects - things that really have been bothering me for a LONG time - with the (MULTIPLE) very delicate people responsible, they said "Write about it in your rant. You can at least get all this anger and hurt and frustration off your chest, and then if they a. happen to read it, b. happen to recognize themselves, c. happen to have the balls to discuss it with you, then it will be out in the open, and the ball will finally be in their court. If they DO read it, and ignore it, well, then... your decision will be that much easier to make. Tell them to their face and take the chance of hurting them, or just write them off and walk away." I know that a lot of people who are not guilty of these ... dumb-ass infractions will read this and wonder, and I decided that that's ok too. We could all - maybe ESPECIALLY myself - do with a little soul-searching introspection. If I'm not talking about you, you'll know it. If there's any doubt (and I had - maybe still have a little - doubt about myself on both of these counts - from one angle or another - trust me...) then it can't hurt to talk to a friend about it anyway, and take the time to find out if you are being a true friend yourself. If you're perfect, and you've stopped growing and changing and learning and becoming a better, more aware, more understanding person, then that's amazing... but I feel a little sad for you, 'cause what's left?

First things first.
If you are friends with someone, and they are having a CON-VER-SA-TION* with you about things that are happening in their lives, either pretend to at least show a LITTLE interest, or tell them flat out "Would you please stop talking about all the interesting things that I'm NOT doing so I can talk about something that interests ME - mainly ME?" so that they can make an informed decision and either tell you to go do nigh-impossible things to yourself, or better yet, go get some MATURE, self-aware**, self-confident**, socially adept friends?
Here's a sample of what NOT to do:
"Hey Jack/Jill, how's it going?"
"Oh, fine Dick/Jane. Actually it's going really well! I just finished a tough creative project that I've been working on for months/I'm working with a Children's Cancer charity/I've just begun taking ball-room dancing lessons!"
"Hm. Have I shown you my latest collection of pet rocks?"

Now, here's a sample of what TO do:
"Hey Jack/Jill, how's it going?"
"Oh, fine Dick/Jane. Actually it's going really well! I just finished a tough creative project that I've been working on for months, I'm working with a Children's Cancer charity, and I've just begun taking ball-room dancing lessons!"
"How neat! What's the project/how are the children/what have you learned so far?"

I promise, the conversation WILL eventually come around to your favorite subject. That's how CON-VER-SA-TION works. That's also how FRIENDSHIP works. If you feel as if your friends are rubbing their events and/or accomplishments in your face, then either re-think your perspective (because if you are really friends, they AREN'T - they just want to share their excitement with you - this is a GIFT. It's called "SHARING".) or SAY SO, and allow them to explain and/or apologize. If you KNOW that you are doing this, and you know that it's because you just don't have the same amount of action/adventure to share, then admit that, too... maybe your friends will be more willing to include you in their action/adventure in the future.
Or even better, maybe your version of action/adventure is just DIFFERENT from theirs, and they'll be just as happy to ask YOU about YOUR stuff when the conversation turns in that direction. In any event, check yourself! Ask yourself: Is this me?

I know I am being harsh here, but this has happened to me quite a few (many, many) times , with more than one person in whom I have invested with a great deal of emotional real estate, and it just flat-out HURTS. I pride myself on being able to say something to someone when they've hurt me, but in this case it's very hard because a person who does this obviously has hurts of their own that they (obviously? hopefully?) just don't know how to handle - and a good person, a loving, caring - AWARE - person, doesn't want to add insult to injury. I could also just - obviously - distance myself from these people, but 1. emotional real estate is never lightly invested and 2. someone like this OBVIOUSLY needs their friends. I know that I am, in a way, doing a terrible disservice by NOT saying something directly, because it is not just me who feels these snubs. Their other friends and family members suffer from this ... lack of awareness*** too... and I'm always the one who ends up being brave enough to say something - then being treated like complete $#*!& by everyone involved because I was the only one who was tired of just bitching about it/being treated like crap/cared enough to try to let them know that they were pissing off ALL of their friends. Lucky me.

Well, to hell with that. Check yourself. Ask yourself "Is this me?" I have. I've quizzed myself thoroughly on this over the months (YEARS) that I've had to get tired of this. If you find that I'm treating you like this, then maybe you need to double-check yourself, because chances are, I've gotten fed up with being snubbed by you and am not asking about your pet rocks because I feel that I've been treated so ill by you in the past and am trying to make a point. It is definitely NOT that I don't care about your pet rocks. I am not the Queen of the Geeks for nothing. I ask strangers in MallWort about their hobbies, interests, children, grandchildren, favorite colors, outfits, music... this is one of the reasons that people LIKE me and WANT TO BE AROUND ME. I really do care. Even if I'm not interested in the subject (deer hunting, magic cards, britney spears), I am interested in people's interest in the subject. This is a likeable trait!

Consider this as well: If you think that I am talking about you, keep in mind that despite this, you have not been abandoned, not by me or any of the other friends that you have alienated in this way,

This is all scratching the surface of a MUCH deeper rant subject, but that is more personal, and if any heads come out of any proctological areas long enough to notice any light-bulbs (however faint) then I will be DELIGHTED to expound on this in a one-on-one kind of way - if you're brave enough and REALLY willing to listen.

(By the way Jen, I am NOT talking about you. Ok? :)

Ok. Part two. And this one is extra hard, because the subject matter is extra-delicate, and I know a LOT of people who could be guilty of this, and quite a few who actually are. Smug mothers of the world, I'm talking to YOU.

I have a LOT of friends and family members with babies. Almost every single one of them were smart, strong, beautiful, talented, supportive, amazing women before they became mothers who also promised to be the same kind of mothers. Many of them kept that promise - and then some. However, something seemed to happen to quite a few of them that I cannot understand, and that makes me so angry that I almost can't see straight when I think about it. This is another one of those "check yourself" situations. You may not be guilty of this at all. You may have only been guilty of it on occasion - but that's enough. In my opinion, this ought to be a license-revoking offense. I am talking about treating your non-mom friends - women who, before you experienced mom-hood, you looked up to, went to for advice, respected, admired, etc. (possibly even for making the decision NOT to have children...) - as second-class citizens. I have friends who, before they had children, told me how much they respected my strength and wisdom, but who, since the whole baby event, have treated me like a complete dumbass. Who have actually said things like "Well, you just couldn't understand..." and who completely exclude me from entire conversations (not the ones about the sticky stuff. that, I don't mind...) or relegate me to baby-sitting and the kids' table, and whatever I seem practical for, like one of their older children, or like I am a kid myself.
I have gotten SO angry at times. I have felt like saying "DO YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS BECAUSE YOU REALLY FEEL THIS WAY? OR BECAUSE YOU'RE JEALOUS THAT YOU'VE GIVEN UP YOUR OWN FREEDOM?!?! One mom-friend told me that she thought this WAS the main reason that some of my mom-friends do this... i wondered if it was because they thought i was rubbing my freedom in their face, and I questioned myself on this, but I know I would never do this. THAT would be horrible. I couldn't live with myself if I were to do such a terrible thing. My friends and their extremely tough decisions which have turned into precious little people are to be respected, admired and supported and that's that. I have wondered about friends' choices to make this drastic, multi-life-changing decision, and I have very strong feelings about over-population, and about people's mental and emotional fitness when making this choice, but once the decision has been made, I have had nothing but respect for the women brave and optimistic enough to do so. Plus there's all these cute little new people to love and play with! I admit, I have wanted to scream "ARE YOU !#$% KIDDING? I CHANGED MORE DIAPERS, WIPED UP MORE PUKE, NURSED MORE PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY SICK AND INJURED KIDS THROUGH WORSE SITUATIONS THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE - not to mention dealt with home and school situations and laundry and trying to scrounge up food and trying to keep a family together - ETC. before I was FIFTEEN YEARS OLD than you (HOPEFULLY) will ever have to deal with in your LIFE - the possibilty of grandchildren INCLUDED - and you dare to say "You just couldn't understand..." to ME?!?!?! Just because I didn't carry a baby for nine months? !#$% YOU! (I need to start a blog called "pipe it up your fallopian tubes.com"!!!) It's not just me who gets this treatment, either. I have other no-baby friends who get this, and I have friends with ADOPTED children who get this - from women who, in the past, would have screamed at the thought of another woman being treated this way.

I have to believe that these women who, in the past, would have been appalled at the EXTREMELY mysoginistic idea that someone would be treated as less of a woman simply because they either made the choice ort had no choice about not giving birth, simply are not aware. I can't believe anything else. I think if you are reading this and checking yourself right now (and NO, JEN, IT'S NOT YOU! AGAIN! ;) you are probably appalled at the possibility that this might be you - just as I was appalled at the possibility that I might be making MY beloved mom-friends and family members feel that I thought THEY were lesser citizens because they DID choose the baby-path. I might feel that some tiny day-to-day decisions - like which way to school your baby - or bigger, not so day-to-day decisions - like whether or not to stay with an abusive spouse/parent need to be re-thought, but that's life, and friendship. If you DO think I treat you like a second class citizen because you're a mom, please say so, please give me a chance to defend myself, and to assure you that nothing in this world, not ONE thing, not even my beloved self, is more important than ANY child and their happiness. Especially the ones I see every day, the ones that are beloved by my beloved friends. And let me assure you that no decision is more serious, more vital, more respectable - more frightening and important - than the decision to attempt to raise a safe and happy child in this fucked up world. If you came to me before the baby was concieved, yes, I'd try to talk you in to adopting. But from the moment the decision is made, you have my respect, because you are a rare, rare thing: a braver, bolder, wiser, more self-confident, more optimistic, more certain, more hopeful, more secure, more financially stable, more mentally emotional, more everything person than I am. You'd better be. And I am willing to give you my support, my strength, and the benefit of my very great doubt - all I ask is that you do your very best - all the time, and that you don't treat me - or any of your other friends - like a non-woman. No insult is greater, I promise.

Check yourself. Be aware. Let your non-mom friends give you the benefit of their freedom. You are capable of giving them the benefit of sharing your wonderful, beautiful gift - and believe me, we do appreciate it, and we do admire your bravery and optimism. It's an important, delicate balance, and we both have a responsibilty in it. If you are reading this and have no doubt that I am not talking about you (and admittedly, the majority of my mom-friends are NOT guilty of this heinous crime) , then please, please, please pass this on to other mom-friends and websites and other places where moms talk. I really do believe that the women who do this are not aware, so hopefully this will make them CHECK THEMSELVES.

Believe it or not,
Much love,
-sam


*"The spoken exchange of thoughts, opinions, and feelings; talk."

**these things are OFTEN confused with "self-centered". Self-aware, self-confident people are not threatened or offended by other people's adventures and accomplishments.

***if it's NOT lack of awareness, then it's just plain mean, hateful, rudeness, and they can DEFINITELY go do nigh-impossible things to themselves and GOOD LUCK.