mylotsastuff.com

Dear You,

Since, you keep asking. I thought I would answer the question “Why haven’t you posted since March?”

It gets asked A LOT.

It’s a good question. And, as far as questions go, it will most likely be more interesting than the answer.

The abridged answer is that I am fucking busy. No, let me rephrase that. I am over-the-top fucking busy.

(I say “fuck” too much ~ I know).

I have another month to get my grandmother’s place on the market. And, on top of that, my boss is, well, he’s a great fictional character but when it comes to the real world, he just can’t find the wherewithal to even make a cameo.

Every day, I work on my little Gandhi-inspired experiment. And, every day, I write down my thoughts. Yes, with a pen. Then, I work my random thoughts into a little essay, figure out a title, decide on an image, and then edit it so at least one other person on the planet can understand what the hell I’m talking about.

And, all of this is going pretty slow. Which, I know, means that it is like we’re in different time zones ~ since you have no clue what is going on with me since March.

So, I will try to get caught up as fast as I can. But, since I have no sense of time, I can’t really promise anything except the following:

I will have 365 essays posted by the end of the year. One for every day of my little experiment. I will be honest in what I discover and share. No matter how embarrassing it is (some of it is pretty embarrassing). I have an April post coming up that addresses that. Someone emailed that he thought I was very brave for being so open. I won’t get into my thoughts about that now ~ you’ll just have to wait.

So, I must get to work. And, I’m only working a few hours today because I had this day scheduled off. Because, as I said, I’m really busy. But, my boss decided that I was “it” last week, so I’m going in for a few hours to appease him. Why I even bother, I don’t know.  Maybe, I’ll get a few bits of dialog out of it, anyway.

Sincerely,

Me.

Continue reading

I’ve been back and forth on this one. While I’ve never actually killed a television, I have put one into a coma.

Let’s face it, television leads to less brain activity. It’s a control freak. It’s a hypnotist. It’s a doctor. It’s a babysitter. It’s a box that too many people spend the majority of their lives staring at.

I bet at the end of a lot of people’s lives, they will have stared at a television set for more hours than they ever looked into the eyes of those that they loved.

Fuck the war on drugs ~ this is much more serious.

I’m not a big fan of television. I don’t have a favorite show that I can’t live without. I do watch TV ~ I’m just not obsessed with it. I go out of my way to NOT build a relationship with a TV show. I mean, it’s so one-sided and they always end. Most of them, badly.

I do like Jon Stewart, Charlie Rose, and Oprah. I always feel like I leave with a parting gift of some kind. Each of them has depth, intelligence, and a good sense of humor. All qualities that I like in others. I truly think I would enjoy having an in-depth conversation with each of them.  And, not about their TV shows or the famous people they have interviewed. I would want to know what makes their heart beat faster, what they think about deeply, and what they love most about this life so far.

My mom tells me that my Grandfather Carroll was like that. He would meet someone like Cary Grant and he would want to know what his thoughts were. He loved talking politics with just about anyone. It didn’t matter if you were a Movie Star or the King of England, you better have something interesting to say or he would lose interest.

I find it endearing that I have traits that once belonged to my grandfather, even though we never met. He died several years before I was born.

So, back to TV.

I love movies. Especially dark comedies, documentaries, and foreign films. And, Netflix is great because I have access to so many films. But, I don’t need to watch them on TV. I can stream them to my computer. Though, I know you can watch Netflix on TV.

So, I’m a little conflicted.

I could just migrate to only having Netflix. And, maybe stream it to a television set. So, it would be more like a big DVD player and not really “TV.”

Or, I could just watch everything on the big screen like they did a hundred years ago. At home, I would read for hours and then have tea and interesting conversation with visitors. Of course, in the middle of tea, I would receive a letter from some far away land. And, then I would take a long walk with a dashing poet. We would steal a kiss under a naked tree.

(sigh)

I don’t think I was just born five weeks late. I think I was born a hundred years late.

Image: Bright Star, 2009 Movie

Continue reading

Bright Star, Carroll, Cary Grant, Charlie Rose, Depth, Documentaries, Drug War, Foreign Films, Grandfather, Intelligence, Jon Stewart, Keats, Kill Your Television, Movies, Netflix, Oprah, Sense of Humor

I have no floor space. Okay, I have a little floor space, but not much. It feels like an obstacle course. Luckily, I’m very adept at maneuvering my way though it all.

But, I’m asking for it. This, I know.

And, I know that what we imagine as order is just chaos in disguise. It’s all an illusion.

Today, I was compelled to do my best Al Pacino as I reprimanded all of the stuff strewn out on my floor.

“You’re out of order! You’re out of order! This whole experiment is out of order! They’re out of order! That box is out of order! That thingamajig is out of order! This whole fucking thing is out of order!”

I may be losing it.

I emptied every drawer and shelf in my bedroom and laid it to rest on my floor.

Why?

Oh, I thought I would feel at one with all of my lotsa stuff. You know, get all “Zen.”

Yeah.

I just ended up feeling sort of claustrophobic.

So, I’m going to pack a lot of up and just get it out of here and into storage.

Or, as I like to refer to it ~ “Tomorrowland.”

(Don’t mind me ~ I’m just having a bad day.)

Image: Al Pacino, And Justice for All, 1979 Movie

Continue reading

Al Pacino, And Justice for All, Chaos, Claustrophobic, Illusion, Losing It, Messes, Out of Order, Storage, Tomorrowland, You're Out of Order!, Zen

Not, really.

Though, Americans do seem to use cookbooks more than other cultures. I mean, cookbooks outsell books about sex by about three to one.

Seriously.

Cooking used to be an oral tradition, not a written one. Family recipes used to be passed down generation to generation. And, in most places around the world, this is still the case.

In my family, we have lots of old treasured family recipes. One that goes back to the time of the Vikings.

Serious.

But, since I’m a vegan, a lot of them are sort of useless to me.

I think I may be the first vegan in my family tree.

Anyway, my first cookbook was one that my mom gave to me and my brother when we were very young. It was by Betty Crocker. Though, I don’t think Betty was a real Betty. But, I’m not sure.

I still have it. Why? I don’t know. It’s sort of cute. It has picture instructions that are very easy for a young child to follow. I think this will have to go to my niece Brooklyn. I was going to give it to my cousin Suzie years ago. She can barely boil water.

I have gathered several more cookbooks of my own over the years. I don’t have as many as my mom. She’s a prolific cookbook collector.

And, a better cook.

My cookbooks are usually very specific. Like my favorite vegan cookbooks and others that focus on only grains, legumes, or veggies.

So, I’m going to go through the cookbooks that aren’t packed away and make some decisions. I might end up pouring the recipes I want to keep into my own cookbook. Though, I do feel the need to keep the ones by Tal Ronnen and Alicia Silverstone. At least, until I try most of the recipes in them.

Also, The Vegan Cleanse by Kathy Freston. I do it a few times a year. I always feel so great when I do it. It’s really healthy. You can eat anything you want except: animal products, gluten, sugar, caffeine, and alcohol. You do it for three weeks.

It’s amazing. I should probably do it all the time. There’s really no reason not to.

But first, I’ll have to start getting more sleep and R&R ~ I’m seriously lacking and have been using caffeine instead. Which, I know is a lie. Because, caffeine is only useful if you don’t use it all the time. Otherwise, you are always just trying to get to ground zero. Whenever, I stop using caffeine, my energy level jumps up thirty percent.

And, I know this. I’m such an idiot sometimes.

(sigh)

Photo: My friend Sabrina and my brother Marc making Lefse just like the Vikings used to (well sort of). There was actually a HUGE food fight about 15 minutes after this photo was taken. And an even bigger cover-up before my parents came home.

Continue reading

Alcohol, Alicia Silverstone, Animal Products, Betty Crocker, Boys & Girls Cookbook, Brother, Caffeine, Cookbooks, Cooking, Family, Gluten, Kathy Freston, Lefse, Marc, Oral Tradition, Recipes, Sabrina, Sugar, Suzie, Tal Ronnen, Vegan, Vegan Cleanse, Vikings

I’m trying something different today. Well, it’s actually something I do all the time.

Too much, sometimes.

But with this experiment, I don’t think I’ve done it enough.

In regards to my material world, I need to, maybe, stop thinking so much. Maybe, let my heart take the lead.

I feel the need to be piloted by how I feel rather than by what I think.

You know that feeling that we all get sometimes ~ that very strong feeling you can have upon meeting someone for the first time. The way we are drawn to someone for no reason ~ no reason that our head can fathom anyway.

I need to let that be what moves me along.

Pearls of wisdom lay in all of our hearts. Yet, we all try to string them together in our heads instead of letting them reside right where they are.

Why do we do that?

I feel like this little experiment is a puzzle sometimes. And, when I put the last piece in, it will be me that I see.

Not unlike, Michelangelo’s David. Where he simply chipped away at the unneeded pieces until David emerged.

We are all sort of like that. Underneath all the stuff that we are taught to think and feel about ourselves and the world ~ is our truth.

The truth of who we really are.

What we really think.

What we really feel.

As I let go of things, I am also chipping away at what isn’t needed. And, in the end, I will be my own greatest work of art.

We all are that for ourselves. This is the one beautiful thing that we all have in common.

No matter what.

Continue reading

Feeling, Head, Heart, Michelangelo's David, Sitting Still With It, Thinking, Thoughts, Work of Art

Mimes are creepy. There was this one I saw at Balboa Park years ago ~ scary motherfucker.

Can you imagine waking up to that every morning? There was this one Halloween ~ well, anyway, I’m sure they take their make-up off, right?

Right?

If anyone can confirm or deny this, please let me know.

Anyway, this essay is not about bashing mimes. I know it’s hard work. It takes a lot of skill and discipline.

And, balls.

It can’t be easy doing something that no one really appreciates or gets. No one really loves a mime. Not really. Though, we do tolerate them. And, tolerance is always a good thing. It’s a start anyway.

Right?

Do you think that mimes have support groups? Can you imagine what their meetings must be like?

Funny.

Okay, as I said, I’m not here to make fun of mimes.

(I keep saying that, don’t I?)

The truth is that I could go for a few mimes in my life right now. Speaking is a highly overrated skill. I can always learn more about someone through silence than through the words they say.

And, I know how this must sound. Considering the fact that I’m so damn wordy.

Right?

How is it possible that a word whore like me digs silence?

I don’t know. But, I do.

A lot.

I crave it. It’s that space where I feel truly at home. And, while I know that silence is always within me ~ I sometimes find it hard to get my fix.

In a world ~ so full of noise.

Though, I’ve always been very skilled at tuning it all out. My best friend in high school told me once that sometimes she could be standing right next to me and have no idea where I was.

I didn’t understand what she meant at the time. Yes, I’ve always known that I get lost in thought. But, what she was referring to was my ability to tune out the outside world. So, I could listen to my inner voice ~ to the silent conversation.

I still do that.

Someone can be talking utter nonsense and all I can hear is white noise. Sometimes, it even sounds like the adults in Charlie Brown cartoons.

Mwa mwa mwa.

Now, when I meditate, I want total silence. I like to meditate at work, but it’s so noisy there sometimes. There are coworkers that wander around in front of my office talking on their cell phones. LOUDLY. Also, my boss gets mad if I turn my phones to “do not disturb.” I explain that I am on a break ~ meditating. He doesn’t care. I explain to him that “it’s the same thing as if I wasn’t here.”

He just says, “But you are here.”

(sigh)

Needless to say ~ I haven’t meditated at work as of late.

But, when I do, I use my Bose headphones. They don’t cut the noise out completely ~ they just turn it down. But, if you pipe music or any sort of sound into them ~ you can’t hear anything going on in the outside world.

Which is great.

I prefer to meditate in total silence. But, when that isn’t possible ~ I listen to rain or ocean waves. It actually helps take me there almost immediately. There is something about the sound of water, no matter what the form, that takes me deeper within myself.

It’s like my own personal wormhole.

So, I will be keeping my Bose headphones. Because, anytime you can turn the volume down “out there” and turn it up within yourself ~ it’s a good thing.

Right?

I wonder sometimes, if the only thing any of us can really call our own ~ is silence. It seems that most of the truly meaningful moments in our lives find us without words. The birth of a child ~ the look of love ~ a beautiful sunset ~ when we make love ~ the death of a loved one.

In silence, the invisible becomes visible.

It’s good to shut up sometimes.

Right?

Image: Mime Marcel Marceau

Continue reading

Bose, Bosses, Creepy, Inner World, Invisible, Marcel Marceau, Meditation, Mimes, Noise, Outer World, Shut Up, Silence, The Silent Conversation, The Store, Visible, Words

I try to work out in the morning before my head figures out what I’m up to. I usually write and then exercise. Or, as I refer to it ~ X.

Besides, yoga, I don’t actually enjoy doing it that much. It’s only afterwards that I enjoy how I feel. Between the writing and the exercise, it clears my head. And, I am a girl that needs to clear her head.

Often.

So, I have a few pieces of exercise equipment that I need to assess. And, most of it is in storage. I have a treadmill, total gym, ballet bar, thigh machine, free weights, exercise ball, steps, rubber bands, and exercise videos.

Lotsa exercise videos.

Since, I have a gym membership, I really need to consider parting with most of it. But, I do miss my treadmill. Before it went into storage, I used it almost every day. (As, did Kitty.) I used to put it on the highest incline for an hour. (Kitty preferred to sleep on it.) I heard that Tina Turner used to do that, so I thought I’d give it a shot. Not, that I’ll ever have legs like hers.

She has incredible legs.

My brother had a thing for her when he as kid. Tina. He saw her shaking it on some variety show when he was about three or four years old. He was wholly mesmerized as he asked my mom “what’s that?”

Not even in kindergarten and he was already objectifying women.

Anyway, since I have 24/7 access to a treadmill at my gym, I’ll probably have to part with mine. The total gym too. I like my ballet bar though ~ it’s great for stretching.

I also like my free weights. Though, push-ups require no equipment and are just as effective. Pilates is good and requires no equipment. But, I do prefer very basic workouts like squats, lunges, presses, curls and crunches. Though, I like the strength and flow of ballet or pilates.

All of this is just reminding me that I’m in need of a good workout. And, that I’ve been a little lax as of late.

And, last but not least, I have an embarrassing confession to make. I knew this was going to surface every now and then as I went about this little experiment. The thing I need to confess is that I left out a couple of items in the above list. And, that is that I own a thighmaster and a buttmaster.

I know.

Go, ahead ~ have a laugh.

I got them for those times when I didn’t feel like doing anything ~ so I would at least do “something.” They have spent years laying-low like Greta Garbo under my bed.

And, no, I won’t be keeping them as one of my 100 things.

They won’t even be making it into the “maybe” pile.

I guess while I’m making confessions about idiotic pieces of exercise equipment that I have owned ~ I might as well spill it about one more. 

Okay, does anyone remember that loud-mouthed guy with the long blonde ponytail? Tony something? Anyway, the machine was named after some horned hoofed creature and attempted to simulate running as said creature. But, you only really ever felt like you were running off a cliff in some Looney Toons cartoon.

One day, my brother gave it away to one of his friends. Without asking. He used to do that a lot. Give away my things without consulting me. It usually annoyed the hell out of me. But, in this particular case, I was thankful.

It was a really stupid purchase. And, I knew it from the start. But, it was too much trouble to take it apart, pack it up, and ship it back. And, they know that when they offer a 30-day money back guarantee.

They know.

Wow, this is really embarrassing. I’m tempted to just edit out the whole ”Tony incident.” I mean, I don’t even really have to mention it since I’m not keeping it or getting rid of it this year. But, maybe I should just let it stay where it is ~ cringing on the page. Because, I shouldn’t really keep things like this bottled up inside.

Or, shouldn’t I?

Image: I’ve had this one for years ~ no idea where it came from. If you know, let me know.

Continue reading

Ballet, Ballet Bar, Body by Jake, Brother, Buttmaster, Cats, Embarrassing, Exercise, Exercise Ball, Exercise Equipment, Exercise Videos, Free Weights, Gym, Kitty Kitty, Marc, Pilates, Rubber Bands, Steps, Thigh Machine, Thighmaster, Tina Turner, Total Gym, Treadmill, Working Out, X, Yoga

Look at me. I was only five and already looking like I’m not buying into any of it. Either that or my mom asked me to pose ~ I sucked at that sport.

Still do.

Look at the three of us. Not one of us is waiting for our savior to return. Or, even aware there is a savior.

The only thing we know for sure is that toys and candy appear in a basket once a year. Hand-delivered by a big bunny, that obviously stole the idea from Santa ~ or was it the other way around?

Which came first, the bunny or the fat jolly man?

Anyway, the bunny is a symbol of fertility. As in “they fuck like rabbits.” Did you know, they can actually get pregnant with a second litter before they have even delivered the first one.

Now, that’s prolific.

So, the bunny sneaks into your house in the middle of the night ~ leaves behind a basket full of sugar ~ and, hides a bunch of eggs. Which, you don’t care about finding unless they are the fake plastic ones filled with real candy.

In a nutshell, Easter is all about sex, resurrection, monotony and sugar-highs.

And, yes, waiting for our lord and savior to rescue you from the boredom of aforementioned nonsense.

And, yes.

I still have one box of Easter decorations.

Photo: Suzie (cousin), Marc (brother), and me

Continue reading

Easter, Easter Bunny, Fertility, Holidays, Marc, Monotony, Rebirth, Resurrection, Saviors, Sugar-high, Suzie

That is, unless they’ve been plucked off of you without notice or permission.

And, that is what is troubling me right now. Because, we humans rarely ask. We usually take what we want ~ no questions asked.

Which makes it all the more hard to confess the following.

And, that is . . .

I have a vase of feathers in my bedroom.

It doesn’t matter that I didn’t buy them or pluck them off the bird myself. What does matter is that I took part in objectifying another creature.

When I put those feathers into a vase and placed them on my dresser, I became a part of something that I find detestable. It’s as if I received stolen goods or covered up a crime against bird-kind.

I am guilty of obstruction of justice.

Birds symbolize hope, freedom and peace. The three things that human beings need to feel sated are the first things we feel compelled to steal from other creatures.

“Do unto others” seems to be something we like to say, but rarely do. Why do we assume that we have more of a right to life than other creatures?

Who’s the asshole that decided this?

I look at these beautiful feathers and I see death. I think about the bird that was seen as nothing more than an object.

An object not worthy of life.

Life ~ a state that we find so precious for ourselves isn’t seen as very important when it comes to other creatures.

We are too busy objectifying one another to see that the way we treat other creatures directly manifests into how we treat other human beings.

Yet, even in knowing this ~ I hear hope whisper. And what it whispers is to keep seeing what I see, saying what I say, and to never forget that only those without imagination see life as it is and not as it should be.

Continue reading

Animals, Birds, Do Unto Others, Feathers, Freedom, Hope, Hope is the Thing With Feathers, Life, Objectification, Obstruction of Justice, Peace, Right to Life

Have you ever jammed little plastic toys in between all of your toes?

It’s quite painful.

But, when you remove them, the pain turns into pleasure. It feels amazing. Separating the toes releases all of the tension in your feet. It feels like you just had a foot massage.

My little brother, Cory, used to love jamming his toys in between our toes. Technically, we aren’t related, but my mom did help raise him from the time he was five years old.

So, when a couple of years ago, I ran across some blue toe separators, I thought it was worth giving them a try. I also thought that Cory invented them without even knowing it.

Now, the blue toe separators aren’t quite as vicious as Cory’s version, but then again the reward isn’t quite as great. Which makes sense, because, the greater the pain, the sweeter the release.

So, until I can assemble some ornery plastic toys, I will be keeping my blue toe separators as one of my things.

And, until I can afford a foot masseuse or have a boyfriend that doesn’t mind rubbing my feet ~ I think I’ll be keeping my pink tennis ball too.

Continue reading

Blue Toe Separators, Cory, Feet, Pain, Pleasure, Toes, Toys