Five for Five*

Tomorrow is election day. We have a couple of pretty hotly contested races. The ads have been furious and the rhetoric fierce. Thankfully, early voting opened up a bit over a week ago and I was able to get my voiting in several days ago.

If a mailing I received a few days ago is to be believed, this election will make the the fifth straight in which I've voted. Again, if the mailing is to be believed, the habit of voting is typical behavior for my neighborhood.

micro blogging monday

The purpose of this mailing, beyond touting my voting habits and comparing same with that of my neighbors, extolling our excellent active participation in the process, was to remind me (and the other recipients of this particular mailing) that November 4th is Election Day!   Go. Vote

I don't know (yet) out of whose pocket the dimes for this mass mailing came. I do consider the spending of these dimes an egregious waste--reminding folks who have voted in four of the last four elections--that election day is near. I am willing to bet that most (like me) had already cast their ballot prior to receipt of the postcard.

Then again, perhaps the mailing was so massive that it included folks with less than four stars on their election activity record, though I can't imagine the wording of such a missive. Still, do these folks care that Tuesday is Election Day?
I'm
Perhaps some do. I'm holding out hope that most do care and that most (who haven't already) will indeeded
vote on Tuesday, November 4, 2014.

Polls open at 6 AM.

*of course I've voted consistently since becoming of age.

.  

They Work

A favored route to work features, among many business, a locksmith. The front of the building is painted very brightly, with a patriotic theme--good ol red, white, and blue--touting the name of the business, phone number, other services offered, and their mantra: 

We Make Keys That Work! 



In multiple locations  across the front of the building; large and small, with red lettering and then, with the blue. Over and over, again and again: 

We Make Keys That Work!     

My first thought was if there were locksmiths who were of the habit of making keys that didn't work. Oh sure, now and again a key might not work. But, they can't possibly stay in business very long if that kind of ethic is habit rather than  happenstance. 

We Make Keys That Work! 

My second thought was if it--the proclamation--is working. Or, has worked.  How many folks have chosen them over other locksmiths? And if the choice made because of the slogan. Or rather, mantra.   I don't know, I tend to be a bit dubious of entities screaming from the rooftops about whatever it is they do--or want me to believe. I wonder, who are they trying to convince, me or themselves?

The business is located much too far away from my homebase for me to consider trying their services. I suppose, given that they are, in fact, still in business (over 30 years!) they must be doing something right.  And that something may very well be, making keys that work!       

Over One Hundred

My first blog post is dated March 29, 2006. In 2006 there were one hundred and forty others for a total of 141. Each year through 2010 yielded over one hundred posts with 2008 being the most prolific with one hundred and seventy. 

There were over fifty posts in 2011 but since then, less than. 

With the inaugural post (as you may choose to read) I mused a bit about where this thing is going to go. At  the time I had two adult (children) at home. I still do, except the son is back rather than never left. In addition, two cats and two dogs (though not at the same time, RIP Diva Dog )  have been added. 

There have been other life events along the way; sexual orientation declaration, graduations, career changes, relationship statuses, and the like. The biggest life event over the last eight years; the death of my dad and then, my mom. 

Over one hundred. 

Now, with over 850 published (and a couple of drafts) as much as then, I still don't know where this thing is going--but going ON it shall/ I have mentioned this before. I don't know that I've ever stated here in my own space, why I blog:  Simply put, I must. Now, more than ever before.  

Despite all the talk of numbers, over one hundred, it isn't about the quantity--though I beat myself up something fierce when I go for more than a week without one. With all there is on my mind to say, I can't (consistently) bring myself to write.

Weird, that.  . 

Anyhoo...consistency. discipline. re-discovery. re-awakening. pro activity over reactivity.  

Telling the tale, real or imagined. 

Peace. .  

The Power of Two

My daughter celebrated another birthday on Saturday. In spite of our very tough year (with tough times still looming ahead) we had a grand time hanging out. She prepared a simpe and very tasty dinner. And thanks to a gift card she finally got to use 2 years later, dessert was divine.  

In addition to being my daughter's birthday iting was also National Coming Out Day. I can say without reservation that my daughter is and has always been my biggest supporter, my grandest cheerleader. The year Neta came to town my daughter donned her 'I Love Lesbos' tee shirt and joined Neta and me at Chicago's pride parade, where she got lost in a sea of gays. She  kept her sense of adventure and sense of humor throughout. 

I love her, without question. I also like her a great deal. She is a joy as a daughter and a great find as a friend. I re-dedicate this piece to my daughter, my friend, my number one fan. And to all the other supporters over these last few years, ♥ ♥ ♥  I wouldn't be here without you all !!! 

#Microblog Monday.

Friend. Missing.

go here 

I have a friend. At least, I think I still do. We met some years ago
and had what felt like, an instant connection. That connection grew deeper with our daily interactions and seemed to continue even when our daily contact came to and end.

Until it didn't.

I don't know what drives her moves to silence. My imagination roams deep with possible explanations. The end result however, is the same, her silence brings about confusion, an intense concern for her well-being and extreme sadness over the lost.

I am at a loss to understand. To reconcile.  

I miss her. 

Sinking. Sunken. Thinking. Not.

What? click on image. 

Cause all of me loves all of you

Love all your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose I'm winning

Cause I give you all of me and you give me all of you.*

I'm about three days and four hours from pulling my profile from the one meeting / dating site I have been on for the past several years now. Am I over the prospect of meeting someone to shower with affection and be showered in return? No, not at all. I just have so much on my mind and my plate that there is no room and frankly little appetite for romance. It is all I can do to govern the day-to-day.   

Still, the languages of love are bookmarked, catalogued for use  . . . whenever.      

*Chorus to John Legend's All of Me 

Poetry. Girl.

click image for info on Microblog Mondays 

i like it when we talk
the way you smile
the way you walk
like you got places to go
i watched you in far away places
seen you amongst different faces
and now you're laughing at my jokes




the first stanza of  fresh by Kim Ransom

Drift Away

"I want to get lost in your rock and roll and drift away." 

Transformation

>

Transformation: Not easy. In some cases not planned and thus, not welcomed. Constant challenge to embrace change, absorb the fall-out and transform into the newest "model" of me.  Understand, I'm not looking for a new me, not re-invention. I am struggling that has happened and with moving onward with what IS tthe current reality. 

Welcome to Friday. 

Next Mandala lesson: Trust

Monday, Monday

Remember Mandalas?  Well, I was part of the Janaury class. I am on lesson number 22 (of 30 and one bonus) TRANSFORMATION I will share that lesson image and those that follow in this space. For yes,  I intend to finish. Perhaps not during the month of September along with the September class, but certainly during the current calendar year.

Want to know what Microblog Mondays is all about? Click the image.

Ta ta for now. :-)

Eight Hundred and Fifty

posting the pic to get a post up 

for, too many days have gone 

without one. 

the next shall follow 

soon(er) 

rather 

than

too much later. 

Happy September!! 

welcome to wednesday

Re Invent?

bklynboihood.tumblr.com

You know the problem with purging? You inevitably bump against things that spark memories; good and bad. Things that ignite debate; again, good and bad. Things that bring about a paralyzing numbness.  This, is most often bad for numbness certainly serves to impact that, "putting one foot in front of the other" method to tamping out . . shit.  

As difficult and troubling it has been both physically and emotionally, to begin was necessary and to continue, even more so. 

Thus, the project lives. 

Permission has been granted to move methodically. Or haphazardly. A quick dump. Or a more deliberate study and sort. There is no deadline. The freedom created by the structure-less structure eases the anxiety (a bit) and cures the nausea (some). 

Re-invent? At this juncture it is more about re-discovery. Or . . . recovery. 

One step: it is okay to be able to see the floor of the closet. 

Just To See Her

Remember where I was a year ago? I do, not just because I can go back and read but also because it feels like yesterday. I think because I'm in pretty much the same place, the same pain, the same state, the same . . .
Oh sure, I was taking a leap into a new opportunity and at that moment the idea of it made me feel vital. But a few months later the realization that I was trying to turn a sows ear into a silk purse settled out my body, wearing on me like kudzu.

So, I set out to clear the vines. I had to find a new job. After being sick most of December, I got busy smack dab in the midst of the worst winter ever to look and look and look. And I found one. Now, four months into that opportunity I am feeling a sense of relief. Most of my duties are familiar but there is some new information to digest and skills to acquire.

There has had to be work behind the scenes to shrink expenses, renegotiate the mortgage, get down to small ball, re-think, re-imagine the newest normal. Not all of the pieces are in place, but they are getting there. And she is still my guide.

However, like last year my birthday is not cause for raucous fanfare. I will be at work. The student will be at school. The actor will be engrossed in the next project. And that is okay. Maybe there will be a brunch on Saturday or Sunday.

Otherwise, I work, maintain, endeavor to have home projects, art projects, mind and body PROjects.occupy. Those things and the folly that is the 45 pound pooch and the two (especially the orange one) cats  will keep me rolling along.

  .  
 Officially fifty-four.

Boys At Work

They are expert and offering their expertise with every project, from art to minor patches--they are

                         THERE. HERE. EVERYWHERE.

                                 YaY!

So, Yeah.

Lazy list because I should be in bed, but I'm not--but REALLY should be down for the count. 

1. Both Buttah and Cinnamon have been sick. Nothing serious, but damn. Tired. Stressful. 

2. I don't even want to begin to tell you how many conversations (with daughter) began with the status 

   of  poop. 

3.  Commuting is . . . well, I don't have the words at present. And even if I did--bed calls. . 

4. Some purging did happen and will continue, albeit at a turtle's pace. 

5. The summer so far has been, in a word, weird. 

6. My daughter is slated to assist one of her culinary instructors with a catering gig later today. She is so             stoked.

7. I am deep in the throes of a love / have relationship with paper. All paper. 

8. But, then again, back and forth it may be, that relationship with paper is . . .ahhh..

9. Lovely. 

10. That said, paper (as in bound in books) must leave. One box is done another shall be completed by the       end of next weekend.

11. Just in time to drop off (at the high school) for THE FAIR. 

12. No, I will not be shopping at the fair this year. 

13. That would be silly. 

14. No, really. 

15. Silly.   

And Just Like That, June. . . DONE

A month full of festivals, marches, parades, forms, commuting, rain, and sun, wind, and more rain, and more rain. Along  with all manner of ups and downs, fits and starts, ins and outs, a kind of stuttering, meandering, toddler-like frankenmonster steps toward a consistent discipline.

Mostly a pass but on a few fronts, fail.

Or, if not fail then certainly room for improvement.

And improve I shall.

There are too many things in my cramped condo. Now, granted there are two other adults who live with me in this cramped condo. Thus, some of the things do not belong to me. But, I will attend to my shrinking the number of things that do belong to me and work to convince the others to shrink their things as well.

Note: the convincing is directed at daughter as son has been living smaller for a while now. In fact, it is his example I want to follow. That guy's dedication and discipline is epic.And as you might imagine it causes me some joy and pain.

The purging of things is metaphoric. Of course, I have other things on my plate that need attending. Of course there is the juggle between work and play; striking the delicate balance needed to attend to most, and being okay that it isn't ALL.

At least, not all at once

First up, my personal space, my bedroom generally and my personal business (and art) files specifically.

Happy Pride and HELLO JULY.

Amity is a Summer Town

 . ..and so, summer has begun. 

Summer in Chicago for many, if not most residents equals being outdoors at one festival or another. The weekends are chock full of options from one end of the city to the other.It is a grand opportunity to visit a neighborhood that is not one's normal stomping ground, to sample foods that may be outside one's comfort zone. 

A random art fair aside, outdoor festivals are not typically my cup of tea. My sensibilities are turned off by three elements inherent in these fetes: 1. crowds 2. outdoor eating 3. too many people, wearing too few articles of clothing, imbibing too many fruity spectacles delivered in a culled out pineapples.

On the positive tip though, attending festivals is an excellent way to get in s-t-e-p-s.

While not your typical festival dweller I will,  depending on the weather, other commitments, and the neighborhood, check the calendar, pencil in the possible events, and try not to talk myself out of attending at least 3 over the next 3 months. 

Summer has just begun and I've already missed more than a dozen. Don't fret there are dozens more. 

The actor embraces the festivals and would attend more if he wasn't more often than not, working. He will, though almost always make time for the Printer's Row Lit Fest (I would have gone there had it not been the same weekend as the 57th Street Art Fair) and the Blues Festival.  

A Tribune photographer captured the actor at the blues festival last weekend. Check out the gallery. And yes, he pretty much dresses this way for everything, winter or summer, rain or shine. 

I do look forward to summer in Chicago, more for the opportunities to get out on my bicycle over attending festivals. But it is grand to know that weekend IN and weekend OUT there is something I could do, somewhere I could go--have a fruity spectacle delivered in a culled out pineapple--if I truly wanted to go that route. 

Roll on Summertime. ♥ ♥ ♥

Turtle Me This

random list of facts, thoughts, and the like 

A few years ago I learned Chicago has a turtle club. Maybe more than one, but for the purposes of this note, one is all I need. The turtle club members had an open house (of sorts) which is how I had the opportunity to meet many turtles. It was a fun day. I thank my friend for bringing that memory back to my forefront. 

Have I mentioned that my daughter is a culinary student? I am her official guinea pig taster. It has been fun and interesting. 

Fun aside,  I really have to ramp up my m-o-v-e-m-e-n-t regime. Again. And continuing. 

Somewhere I read the question, "what are your biggest pet peeves?" I didn't answer there but will answer here: folks clipping their nails in public. Skeeves me right the frack out. Folks mentioned flossing in public and while that is icky, I don't have nearly as much of a  gross out reaction to that.

My brother (the younger) is moving to Georgia in two weeks. He told me two weeks ago. It is fitting. 

Seventeen. Why is seventeen stuck in my head? 

Marriage. Marriage has been banging around the gray matter of late. Mostly I've been thinking I'll  never (again) get to a point where I'll be in a marrying state of mind. I have lived alone (save for my son and daughter) since the beginning of the new millennium. I don't know IF I can live with another person in that kind of relationship and as I've never lived with a woman . . . 

It is, at the moment, a thought too huge to embrace. Still, I am enthralled that the country is inching toward equality in the marriage arena. 

Speaking of m-o-v-e-m-e-n-t, I want to take a Zumba class with the local park district. But I'm concerned that the age for the regular classes begin at 15. It's weird. They have a program called ACTIVE ADULTS for adults 50 plus. But they don't have a class for the same group, exclusively. Weirder: Zumba JR. Kids (Ages 4--6)  Zumba Kids (Age 7--11)  Zumba (Ages 15 & Up) . . You see that? What about ages 12--14? No Zumba for them. 

Some of the songs on the (new) Michael Jackson album are creepy. 

I considered growing my hair out (with designs on braids and beads or locks) and let my haircut cycle stretch from every two weeks to . . . well, now. Which wound up being about four weeks. The. HAIR. had. TO. GO!! I may revisit the idea, but have to figure out a way to survive the awkward stage where it must be combed but still too short to braid. Plus, I must be realistic; my fingers may be losing the nimbleness needed to braid well. 

10,000 steps (at least) a day. Twice in the last seven days. The goal for the next seven, twice that. 

June Re-Boot

Memorial Day heralds in the unofficial start to summer.

I can't buy into such folly. It is still offically spring and still

officially . . . well, not 100%.

That said,  daughter and I spent a lovely afternoon at a very cool art fair


in the very cool Chicago neighborhood of Hyde Park. So enthused were we, she very easily convinced me

to purchase  a piece for her. She's very proud of her first original (outside of mine, of course) piece of

artwork.

The first full week of June has been lackluster, at best--change and designs on summertime, aside. I am

erasing the downs and embrasing the ups from the first week and entering week two with sunshine on

my shoulders; metaphorically speaking as the forecast for the next few days is temperatues in the mid-

sixties, mostly cloudy with slightly higher than 50% chance of rain.

Officially, it is still spring.