You've all Gone Batty!

It recently dawned on me in the most unpleasant of ways that the vast majority of my Facebook friends are bat sympathizers. This is for them and for all y'all bat lovers out there...

Image sources:
http://scienceblogs.com/afarensis/upload/2006/06/Vampire%20Bat%201.jpg
http://img.metro.co.uk/i/pix/2008/07/BatBra_450x400.jpg
http://blog.willamette.edu/stories/images/2005/077/full/Paul_Holding_a_Bat.jpg

Hunger Pangs

Image via Wikipedia

It happened again. I saw my words on another blogger's blog. For half an instant, before I could catch myself, my face twisted into a bitter scowl and an actual "Ugh!" escaped my lips. This is the first time I've actually heard one, having previously thought words like "Ugh!" only existed on paper.

In that very same half an instant (granted, it was a long half an instant), I thought to myself how these Heather word/idea sightings always meet certain conditions:

1. The blogger is well-established with a much bitter (whoops) bigger "following" than me.
2. The blogger is a contact of mine, but never offers me any direct feedback.

Yes I realize it's not only possible but quite likely that I'm a self-absorbed harpy with a good imagination and an inflated sense of word-worth. It's possible that these are all just coincidences. After all, I don't own ideas. And we all live in the same world so it's possible that we could have had the very same idea at the exact same moment and that we may have even used the exact same words to describe a particular feeling. It's possible.

It's also possible that the idea I offered you so freely out of a sincere want for you to succeed—that you decided to employ three days later and said as much on your blog—that I never expected you to thank me for but was miffed upon noticing that you not only did not thank me but thanked a third unrelated person in what I can only assume is another social-climbing strategy of yours—could have been forgotten and honestly re-dreamed up by you three days later. It's possible.

To have one's brain material and one's creative ideas borrowed without credit feels like a violation. That much is true. But these situations also offer us an opportunity for personal growth. What do we really want? Consideration? Kudos? Respect? Self-respect? Is public drama the best way to achieve that? It might be for some, but for me it just doesn't feel right. Calling out another blogger for things like these, unless it's so blatant that a calling-out is no longer a viable option but required in order to make sure some other blogger isn't similarly violated, is something I will never do. And no, that's not an open invitation to steal my stuff.

I've decided to take the advice of centuries of people who clearly have never had their mental babies taken to the park by another and twirled and displayed and presented as though they were their own. I've decided to feel flattered. If respected bloggers are borrowing or stealing from me it must mean that I'm doing something right.

It also makes me realize that I'm most likely not the only blogger whose idea shelf has been raided. It's quite possible that the ones doing the raiding don't have creative coffers of their own and borrow and steal to survive. As one who knows how painful it can be when the creativity refuses to flow, this just makes me feel sad. When all is said and done, I know that I was blessed with an endless spring, that the ideas will return and continue to flow through me until my heart stops beating. For that I will be eternally grateful.

Hopefully someday I will actually do something with my words and ideas so my family and I can reap the benefits before I'm old(er) and gray(er). I keep picturing us in a little cabin by the sea surrounded by books and an old typewriter and vintage board games. I need to write more often so I can improve. I realized a mere two weeks ago that I actually like writing. That it's not just a compulsion. Writing is accessible to all of us and not just the sport of Queens, PBS intellectuals and pompous elitists. I need to take writing seriously. And myself seriously for that matter. I can't control others, but I can stop shooting myself in the foot as soon as I get a tiny bit of steam rolling. I can stop being my own worst enemy.

If I were a better writer things like this would not happen to me. People wouldn't dare tread heavily on my personal writing space. Would they?

It's time for another self-reminder. It's the journey and not the destination. Never be fat and happy. Always be hungry. Someday, with a little bit of dreaming and a lot of hard work, my family will be doing the reminding for me in our cabin by the sea.

Hunger
by Emily Dickinson

I had been hungry all the years ;
My noon had come, to dine ;
I, trembling, drew the table near,
And touched the curious wine.

'T was this on tables I had seen,
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.

I did not know the ample bread,
'T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shard
In Nature's dining-room.

The plenty hurt me, 't was so new, —
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.

Nor was I hungry ; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.

Dear Kurt Cobain

Image via Wikipedia

Dear Mr. Cobain,

I would like to personally thank you for slicing and dicing and Buffy-the-Vampire-Slaying the Hair Bands of the 1980's and early 1990's. Were it not for you our sons would be wanting perms and highlights and our daughters white boots and ho-dresses instead of black hair dye and in-your-face bangs.

What were you thinking with Courtney Love? I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks you could have done much better. I mean no disrespect to the Mother of your child. I'm just stating the obvious. I think she used some of your unpublished material to fashion a career for herself and now the well has run dry. Was that what you wanted for her? Or is she the evil succubus the rest of us think she is?

I have so much more to say to you, but I'm sure you're a busy guy up there in Heaven. Take care of your bad self.

Heather

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Robb North Photography

I find Robb North's work gripping. Something about it just speaks to me. I happened across is the other day when searching for a photo to exemplify the way I was feeling when unable to post something meaningful. Here are three examples. There are many more to be seen in the Robb North Flickr photo stream. Strolling through his photos and the accompanying words is inspiring. They're the perfect brain candy for me right now. I hope you enjoy them.

A Million Diamonds

As I pushed her through the unfurnished house, she recounted countless stories of the days gone by. She was a strong woman, but not in a physical sense; yet she seemed to be gathering strength the further I led her into that place. I thought she was going to step right out of that wheelchair.

She would say, "Oh, stop right here. Move me back just a bit."

My favourite story was the one of her and her sister playing with an egg-shaped piece of crystal of their Mother's. They would hold it up to the light that was spilling into the sitting room through the big bay windows. Making the reflected light's patterns dance on the walls. And they dropped it! She said there was a moment in time that seemed to last forever, where they both looked at each other with horror in their eyes. Expecting the heavy piece to shatter into a "million tiny little diamonds" when it landed. It remained in tact.

She pointed to the very spot where the crystal had struck the oak floor. A well-worn mark still remained...the edges had softened with time and traffic. But, you could still see the impression that that moment in time had created.

I'll keep your memory vague

Now I'm thinking back
To what I said before
I hope your heart won't have to hurt anymore
Cause it's really not that sad from here
Because the moments I can feel you near
They keep you close to me my dear
And if they ever become too clear...

~Finger 11

Models: Erin and Tyler

hollow

The X-ray tech said, "I'm sorry sir, but we're going to have to try that again."

"What's the matter? This will be the third time," he said.

"Nothing's showing up...you appear to be completely empty inside."

Finally! A post with substance.

Image by Robb North via Flickr

I changed my mind. I've got nothing!

What do women WANT?

Image by N i c o_ via Flickr

I'm doing a little research for a future project.

If you're female, I need to know what you want out of a man. I mean really. Don't sugar-coat it. Post anonymously if you have to. Or email your answer to me.

What did a man do to or for you that made you feel more special than any other man has ever been able to make you feel? If it's never happened, what have you been waiting for a man to do?

What makes you love a man?
What makes you passionate about a man?
(They are not necessarily one in the same.)

If you're a man please share with me what you think women want. What has worked for you and what has not?

Thanks. This will all make sense eventually.

New Moon Over San Diego

Cover of New Moon (The Twilight Saga, Book 2)

Hi all! We're back from the San Diego area where we spent the better part of the week happily sucking in Eucalyptus fumes and having our bodies caressed by warm air and cool breezes that leave me wondering why we ever hopped into the van and allowed it to drive us back to the angry heat of the Southern California Desert.

We reserved a suite with a separate kid room. I carried in my suitcase visions of putting the kids to bed and having the rest of the night alone with my husband to revel and drink tequila and jump on the bed and make crank calls via the computer to overly-serious hybrid drivers wearing eel-skin Euro sandals. Painting the town red was out of the question, after all. But as soon as I stepped into our suite I realized it was not to be. The kid quarters, as it turned out, were positioned between the master bedroom area and the bathroom. Hel-LO? Who was the rocket scientist who devised this brilliant schematic?

I pitched a mini-fit that ended with me on the bed, hotel phone in hand, interrogating the dial tone as to what good it does anybody to position the kids in such a way, why the upper lip on the headboard was at head height, procluding the possibility of sitting in comfort, let alone nursing without throwing out my back, which carried even more importance given the fact that the only chairs in the room were two uberadorable toddler stools. I wanted a screwdriver to remove the staircase leading up to the second bunk on the bunk bed lest Joe should let his curiosity get the best of him at 3:15 in the morning. No amount of reasoning could make me understand why my husband didn't have a swiss pocket knife as a keychain the way I assumed all men did even though we've been married since 2005 and I know he is not the perky keychain type, so I steadied myself by stacking tiny suitcases and books on it instead.

Don't even get me started on the bathroom and VMS. You know how it is when you're away from home and the different lighting flagrantly highlights all of your flaws, pointing out flaws you didn't know existed and making it clear that you should not go out in public wearing anything less than a mascot costume and an apologetic expression. Yes, I was deep in the throes of Vacation Mirror Syndrome for our entire stay. But I didn't let it get me down. I simply picked out a pair of benign black pants and a t-shirt thick enough to cover my bumps, yet thin enough not to add to their thickness, and painted it to my body.

We had a blast with the kiddos. The San Diego Zoo on Tuesday was a delight for the senses. The boardwalk and beach on Wednesday were fun, but would have been more fun if the barn tent we'd picked up for Lily had actually worked. Mission Bay on Thursday was a joy. We all felt light and free and have plans to return as soon as is possible. We'd like to rent a kayak or two.

I need to take something back from my vacations. Besides the realization that a vacation with small children is not a vacation after all, but rather a chance for more family togetherness and to revel in the looks on the kids' faces while they gaze upon new sights and smell new smells. From the very first realization that I was pregnant with Joe Joe my life has primarily been about them and with this I am quite satisfied. However, I did pack back with me a new resolve. Since we had to go to bed so early so the kids could sleep, I got in a lot of reading and am well on my way through New Moon, the sequel to Twilight. A sentence on page 106 resounded in my head, reminding me of what I had been trying to say in my blog post about Twilight (the movie), And This is the Twilight of my Life.

"It was depressing to realize that I wasn't the heroine anymore, that my story was over."

I've been feeling for quite a while now not like a bit player or even a character actor in my own life, but rather like a set decorator. I've been hiding in the shadows doing my best to lift my children into the light, stuffing my own hopes and desires and anxieties with chips and chocolate. I have never known how to be a healthy heroine. To me pleasure and excitement have always walked hand in hand with living on the razor's edge of good and bad judgment. This is not a side of me I cared to introduce my precious children to. Perhaps I have been doing my best to bury her. I have in fact been successful in morphing into somebody I barely recognize.

My new resolve is to once again become the heroine of my own story, a story that now includes my husband and my beautiful children. A story where I don't have to hide different parts of myself sporadically, exhausting myself by choosing carefully what to reveal of myself and to whom. Where I don't have to pick at wounds to feel alive and punish myself out of misdirected anger at the universe, nor must I deprive myself of love and of loving. A story where I accept the light and dark within myself, and in all that surrounds me as being natural and healthy. A story where my fractured self becomes fully integrated and happy and cranky and above all things gloriously whole and full of life. This is the me I will share with my children.

I am starting a healthy eating plan on Monday. It's going to be a very long and painful road, but a year or two from now I will resemble myself again, inside and out. I will have more energy for my family, and I will be able to express my retro sense of style by actually fitting into clothing designed back when large cheeseburgers were the size of today's kids burger and people were too sensible to sit around and indulge every whim and craving with the easiest possible source.

Here are some photos of our trip. I look forward to catching up with my online friends tonight and over the weekend. Wishing the best of all worlds to you.

Do you Write or are you Written?

I know I don't post as often as I should. I don't do anything as often as I should. I do things I shouldn't do more often than I should. It's not my fault. You see, I don't write. The reasonably good posts that is. I am written. I sit here sometimes for five minutes staring blankly at the monitor. Eventually my mind goes numb and my fingers spring into action and words appear on the screen. When I look back on some of these posts I chuckle to myself and think... If I had sat down with the intent to write that the words would not have come. I could not have done it. The words have nothing and everything to do with me. They are entities in and of themselves.

Sometimes I wonder if a little person exists inside my head driving me like that little alien in Men in Black drove Vincent D'onofrio. Now see I stopped to find a picture of said little alien and I lost my train of thought. Then again I didn't so much lose it as it turned into an ant of thought.

[ETA my husband just encouraged me by saying 1) "Your blog was good baby, but it wasn't Vincent D'onofrio being driven by the little alien, it was the old man. He got driven into the morgue and they pulled his ear and his face opened up.", and 2) "Don't let the facts get in the way of your creativity!".]

How to Have Fun on Facebook

Image by Getty Images via Daylife

Please note this article is not entitled "How to Have Fun on Facebook and Still Look Professional". I am presently a stay at home Mom and as such I am allowing myself certain liberties on Facebook with regards to "being myself" that I would not necessarily afford myself if I were gainfully employed out in the big bad world and under the thumb and visual scrutiny of a supercontglomerate megaemployer.

1. Pretend that nobody is reading what you type except for your best friend, be your best friend your spouse, a monkey or something otherwise dispicable like a Lakers fan.
   
   • If you actually think about who is on your friends list you may very well freeze up out of anxiety and never type a word onto your wall at all. This is not fun. This is fear. Nobody is there, they're not really there and even if they are really there pretend they have better things to do than keep tabs on you so you are free to play.
     
     
2. Comment on your friends' wall posts.
   
   • Yes, that's right. I'm telling you to interact. (Noooooo!) It may feel weird the first time you do it, but you'll get over that soon enough. Don't take the fact that only 2% of people actually reciprocate or respond to your interactions personally. I've found that most aren't ignoring you out of spite, secret simmering hatred or a lack of tact. They simply don't know what to say that will make them not look like a fool or give a bad impression. Most people usually come around and start interacting with you using teeny tiny hesitant little baby steps after a while. If they don't, simply move on.
     
     My Golden Ratio of Facebook Interactions on your part in order to elicit a response is 4.53 to 1. Memorize it. Live by it. Respect the ratio!
     
     
3. Post old pictures.
   
   • Proceed with caution here. This area is a hotbed of potential drama. To be reasonably safe, start with pictures of yourself. Then, if anyone responds positively with a comment such as, "Ah yes, I remember those days. You were such a big dork it was all I could do to talk to you if another person was watching. But you're not as big of a dork now so it's cool", take that as an invitation to post an old photo of them. But be kind. There are rules involved in old friend photo posting:
   1. Do not post a photo of her at 15 with a Lowenbrau in one hand and a big bong balanced on her head.
   2. Do not post a photo of her with any old boyfriends. Ever. The dynamics of old relationships are complicated and the memory may spark her to freak out and start eating gallon after gallon of ice cream. Or maybe she is married now and simply doesn't want to go there. Even if she asks you to post a photo of her with an old boyfriend she doesn't really mean it. If you give in she will be filled with a potent mix of wistfulness and guilt or self-consciousness that she will forever associate with you. Just don't do it. Have some self-restraint. You can't un-post a photo. Well you can, but it's kind of like un-saying harsh words. Once they're out there in the universe they are doomed to linger through all eternity.
   3. Nudity is a no-no. Even web cam nudity. What? Yes, it counts as real nudity.
      
      
4. Take risks. Send friend requests to people you never really knew that well but wished you did or would like to now.
   
   • This can be incredibly invigorating, empowering and/or healing. Chances are that these people will respond favorably. Once your preconcieved notions are suitably slayed thus is snuffed another demon you never knew you had. You might even make another new friend. For real. Even if there isn't much interaction there, it's always nice to form a thought bubble around yourself that includes all the pieces and thus all the potential and possibilities Facebook can afford you.
     
     
5. Put your pride aside.
   
   • Fun and pride don't mix. I'm not suggesting that you purposely set yourself up for humiliation. I'm suggesting that you put down your guard and be yourself. Being cool is all good and well, but cool people don't have fun. Not really. They simply intermittently wallow in the satisfaction of knowing that their countenance and well-honed public image is beyond reproach by modern standards.
     
     
6. Share things that are interesting to you.
   
   • Post links to web pages that interest you. Post lyrics to songs. Beautiful photos. Silly jokes. Games. It allows you to express yourself and allows others the opportunity to get to know you and get to know themselves better as well in relation to how what you've shared of yourself makes them feel.
     
     
7. Give yourself permission to not respond to all requests and applications.
   
   • If you don't you'll quickly find yourself overwhelmed by drink requests and bunny ears and you'll find yourself avoiding Facebook altogether thus denying your Facebook friends the opportunity to get to know you better and vice-versa. Sometimes if I'm away for a week or so I am greeted with a ridiculous amount of requests and I have to simply go through the list and ignore ignore and ignore with a reasonable lack of prejudice. Done deal, now I am free to have fun. Remember that most requests are sent out in masse so you will not be offending anyone if you don't return the button or the cyber drink. And if they are offended, well, do you think you should take their offense seriously or give it time and let it pass? Which leads me to...
     
     
8. De-friend people only on rare occasions and always as a last resort.
   
   • 99% of the time you will end up regretting your decision to de-friend somebody. And unless you're the best of friends and have a very honest and loving relationship, chances are that your relationship will never be the same. Unless having that person there makes you feel unsafe, violated, sad, or has a negative effect on your life or family relationships in general and hampers your ability to enjoy Facebook at all leave them there. Drama passes. And remember the old adage - keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. It's comforting and can be healthy to see "enemies" as real people too. But be careful, you may find yourself without any enemies at all.
     

I'll update this article if I come up with any other juicy tidbits. Until then, enjoy!

Happymaking Comment Quote of the Day

Cover of Blue Velvet (Special Edition)

"...Having spent a huge portion of my young adulthood not liking and wanting to change myself, I can say that for me, the end goal is so much more exciting and full of possibility when I work on coming to terms with who I am and making the best of my own unique endowments.

I'll never forget seeing "Blue Velvet" with Isabella Rosselini and being amazed at the amount of cottage cheese on the back of her thighs and the way it squished about during a lovemaking scene. Suddenly, I found myself liking cellulite, even wanting more of it than I had, because I wanted to BE the desirable woman in Blue Velvet, and something about this actress's abandon and ability to revel in her imperfect body, the way it gave and took pleasure, the way it couldn't have been otherwise for her to be truly and deeply HERSELF, was compelling and charismatic beyond belief. I thought: this woman could make a double chin beautiful; she was so self-possessed, confident, commanding and serious. This was the way I wanted to be.

The trick, of course, is to love one's OWN flaws, not a Hollywood celebrity's."

~ Eva Robertson, The Dogwood Diarist

Happymaking Post: Affirmation Danger