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Summer is Here and I am Free

I float above the cloudy hot days

Immune to its gravity haze

Time has been both friend and foe

Manic highs and depressed lows

A slave no more

to my shackled core

With persistence I broke free

to again feel and see

This summer nothing like last

For I am now done with the past

Moving forward in honor and glory

Is truly the end to this story

Cicadas with their rhythmic sounds

Texas size skies that astound

I sit on the river just to feel

All that is beautiful and surreal

Gratitude flows down my spine

while the scent of oak and pine

pervades my very essence

there is joy in your absence

The water is healing and full of life

I am no longer anger and strife

My soul is floating in the clouds

No longer covered by your shroud

Summer is here and I am free

To yet again feel and see

All that there is to be thankful for

Mother Nature, my saviour.


the unfortunate power of negativity, dealing with blog comments

For the most part, my blogging has helped me. It has been a place to vent and analyze my thoughts and feelings. It has been a much-needed exercise in writing. It has allowed me to share a painful experience as well as the more joyous sides to life. I have received many amazing and thoughtful comments as well as great advice on how to continue my journey. I have been so grateful to hear that other people have experienced the same things or that they felt empowered reading some of my posts.  So with all the positivity that has been generously given, why can one person’s rude and negative comments negate it?

From day one, there has been one person, who continues to leave hurtful and sarcastic comments. He uses a fake email so that I can not respond and he has personally attacked me several times. He has said things that at times had me almost to the point of taking the entire thing down. And I sit and wonder does anyone else experience this? I have never left a negative comment of any kind on anyone’s blog because I think it is unneccessary and if I do not enjoy the content of their blog, I simply do not continue reading it. But this individual drops in every once in a while reads something and then berates me.

I suppose I should have expected this sort of thing and prepared for it but every time it feels as if I have been sucker punched. The main thing that saddens me is that this happens all the time in life and people such as myself, perfectionists, are incredibly susceptible to it. We can have a million people tells us that we are great and talented and it only takes one person to destroy all of it.  I recently had a writer for the NY Times tell me that he thought I was quite talented and that he wanted me to start working on a project so that he could take it to his editors and his agent. He read my entire blog in a couple of hours and said that he really enjoyed it, which I was more than flattered about. I was so excited and humbled by his comments and felt a great sense of accomplishment. But after reading this latest criticism from this anonymous individual I am left questioning myself again.

Why do we let people cause us such harm while they hide behind a computer screen? Why am I so bothered by what one person has to say about me? Why does this person invest any time at all in trying to harm me? I will never understand people’s need to belittle and judge others, it seems so contrary to what we are all trying to do. But I suppose this is what I should expect to deal with and hopefully by continuing to stay true to myself,  I will not let this person win.

Fraudulence: How do you decipher its origin?


After an exhausting weekend, full of adventure and oddity, I am left pondering. Do people who are totally full of shit know it? Are they intentionally and willingly fraudulent or are they so self unaware that it is accidental?

Example: Saturday night I went out with a guy that was extremely interested in me some years ago and that was hurt by the fact that I would not leave my then boyfriend to be with him, well that turned out to be a waste of loyalty but that is beside the point. This guy, lets call him J, was there for me after the break up and really helped to take care of me during the hardest parts which I thought was admirable and kind but then disappeared for many months. He called me this weekend to ask me to meet him and some of his friends at the bar where we actually had met, as I had a gap in my schedule for that evening, I complied. I had little to no expectations as I have found that having them only leads to disappointment anyway and thought that it would simply be nice to catch up and see how he had been doing other than the lame FB posts that I had seen.  When I arrived he was clearly happy to see me and kindly told me how beautiful I looked and commented on my physique which I had been working rather tirelessly on and I excitedly thanked him. We sat down at the table with all of his friends and began chatting, all pretty standard. Not even 20 minutes into the evening, he changed his body language to directly face me and grabbed my hand in his. He then proceeded to tell me that he loved me and that he always had. He continued to say that he had disappeared because he was afraid that if we had begun seeing each other that it would be more of a rebound for me and that he could not chance his heart on something he thought to be short-lived.  He also expressed concern that should William ever return that I would be drawn to getting back together with him. I assured him that William would never again be any part of my life for any reason and that should he return which was highly doubtful anyway that he would be met with nothing but disdain and disappointment. At this point he asked me if I wanted to give being with him a shot, that after all he had loved me for years now and that finally he felt as if we were both in a position to be together and have it be successful.  Now for anyone that knows me really well, I am usually quite moved by expressions of emotion and am a bit susceptible to being persuaded by them as well but after all that I have endured recently it has become much more difficult.  It is not that I out right did not believe him or felt as he was manipulating me, it was just a matter of do his words and his actions directly match up? I can say from what I have observed over the past few days that they do not. So the question remains, did he mean all the things that he said or was it all just BS to try to accomplish some self-serving goal? And if it was BS did he even realize he was doing it?


Example #2: The dreaded bastard ex.  If I could credit any one human being for completely destroying any faith I had in humanity and for eliminating any trust I have that people are what they say they are, its him. Forget that this person told me over and over again how much they loved me and that I was the one for him and then brutally left me in possibly the worst of scenarios. Forget that apparently this person lied to everyone involved in the situation so that his cowardice would be tolerated. Hell even forget that he waffled back and forth between telling me that he “had been with more attractive women than me,” and telling me how gorgeous I was. Forgetting all that because it is in the past and holds little to no meaning for me anymore, there is still the present fraudulence which he continuously spews forth from a laptop in Asia. In reference to society’s obsession with FB he writes things like:

 In fact, in the 21st century it is more natural to be laid bare and completely open in your yearning for approval and recognition than it would be to hide your feelings. We are gregarious, we are desirous of living an examined life for Plato said that anything less than that is not worth living. We use introspection balanced with external comments to search our emotional responses to the world. To be honest with yourself in the age of reality shows and celeb-worship is to know that you would probably take, if not relish for some time, the constant scrutiny and phony devotion of being the one in the camera’s flash instead of the one pushing the button. The world is changing again, as it always will. The exaggeration of daily life, and the magnification of minutiae is thrust into our faces like mall perfume samples. I wonder if the rise in depression is due to people feeling unworthy of living because they aren’t being photographed or pulled aside for interviews. Do we feel unimportant because only our family and friends care about us, as opposed to strangers worshipping us through the magazine pages or the Hollywood blockbusters? Even as I write this, I do wonder who will read it, who will appreciate it. We want to feel alive and needed, we want to leave our mark upon this world.

Or in reference to the duality of life and all the myriad of amazing philosophical epiphanies he has had:

 Last week at the the Buddhist temple of heaven and earth, I felt the feeling I’ve felt for a long time now, but saw it manifested before me. Namely, that what we call right and wrong are constructs of our society. There is, has been and always will be only what is done and not done. If you see evil happening and do nothing, that’s what you do—in your non-action lies your action. If you hurt someone, you did it. If you help someone, you did it. It is the existential power we all possess and gives meaning to every single choice we can ever make. You can choose with each step of your life, positive or negative behaviors. What is right for one is wrong for another. Christianity and Islam are not right or wrong, one is right for one group of people, and therefore the other appears wrong. Murder, rape, theft et al. are unequivocally wrong, because it takes the choice away from the other person, but it is done. The thief wants money, takes it, it is right for him, but wrong to the person from whom he stole. The laws of regulation are necessary in a functioning society, but within those boundaries, you can find your own philosophy of right action.

Or perhaps my personal favorite when describing a beautifully debauched Wednesday:

We talked about why I wasn’t married, how the kindergarten teachers were attractive but hard to talk to, how he was wearing a special tie today with lots of glitter because the parents would all be present today for the kindy graduation.  The one who spoke the most English, and was the most pleasant was my Korean co-teacher’s uncle and never seemed that nice before.  He was charming.  He was so interested in talking to me.  I ate my dinner, they paid and I thought they were walking me home.  It turned out, we were headed for a second place to talk and drink soju.  I told them I had to go home.  Here I am writing this, getting drunker the more I write, as the drink keeps hitting more of my body.  It’s the Hemingway kind of drunk, where things still seem new and exciting.  It’s not the kind of Bukowski drunk where you just finished hitting your wife, and you’re feeling guilty so you drink kind of drunk.  I really would have loved to hear more stories, but I know the drunker you get the worse your foreign language gets but the more accessible it is to your mouth.  It’s like you have more words, but less grammar, making for a terribly incoherent but verbose rant about nothing.  It was a good Wednesday.

It is so funny, many months ago I would have been bothered by these things, even upset by them but now I just find them humorous and fascinating even if a bit sad. Because you see he is the epitome of what I am questioning because I wonder if he is aware of just how ridiculous these things sound coming from him, this person that enlisted my help for this “drinking problem” but then brags and relishes his debauchery. Hemingway drunk? Really? This person that philosophizes right and wrong, action and inaction as if he comprehends any of that. Unequivocally wrong? You mean like leaving your girlfriend of 3.5 yrs pregnant and disappearing to a foreign country? It is simply bewildering how this person can say these things having done what they have done and with such ease. And again the question remains, do people who are so obviously full of shit, know it? Or have they created their own reality in their minds that enables them to act so hypocritically and yet believe everything that they think and say is true?  The deeper question is in today’s society is it easier for these people to get away with this kind of behaviour? It is very interesting to me from a psychological stand point and I wonder if there will ever be a time when this technological advancement allows for individuals like this to be “called out” as it were instead of them being able to use it towards their own shameless self promotion. What has happened to us? Why are we all so much more concerned with how things appear versus what they really are? Are we all so ashamed of who we are and what we have done that we construct this amazing facade of a human being and use misdirection to alleviate our own self-loathing? Why not just direct all that time and energy towards living an honorable and truthful existence? I would rather have someone love me, knowing everything that I have done good, bad and otherwise than have someone fall in love with the mask. But I still wonder, are these people doing all this intentionally or are they really so lost in their own heads?

Today I am thankful for my ex and all the lessons he has taught me. I am thankful that I am more scrutinizing and less gullible. I am thankful that he demonstrated the age-old adage that actions do in fact speak louder than words and that through this experience, I truly believe that I will never have to suffer the same pain again because I will pay much more attention to the man behind the curtain. So really as much as I have fought it, today I can honestly say, he did me a favor. And with that comes a sense of peace and completion. Sigh.


I awoke to the darkness of the morning moon

and my first thoughts were not of you

Beautiful apathetic amnesia

soothes my soul and has removed your heinous sore


Each day I grow stronger

Each day I am farther

Each day you fade away


In this suffering that is life

many options are apparent

but only one resides in truth and love

enlightenment originates in struggle


Each day I am learning

Each day I am creating

Each day I am released from your destruction


I rest my head tonight listening to the sound of stars

my body exhausted from training

my mind fatigued by inquiring

and my soul challenged by searching




The Angels within

I was suddenly awakened by a clamoring in my living room, I heard several voices in deep discussion, the subject eluded me though. I leaned across the bed and grabbed my mobile to check the time, 4:30am.  A sudden panic rushed over me. Who were these people and why were they in my house at 4:30 in the morning? I quickly slid the black case from underneath my night stand and opened it to reveal my personal protection, a Springfield 45. I was totally unsure as to what I was about to do, adrenaline had flooded my synapses. I had to do something. With no forethought, I opened the door from the hallway that lead into the living room, holding the jet black weapon in hand as if I was on a military raid.  The scene was far more shocking than I could have imagined.

Women. Women were everywhere  They were mostly older looking women.  They had dispersed themselves throughout the house but were mostly socializing in my kitchen and den. As I glanced around, I noticed that they all had the same look on their faces. They appeared both severe yet supportive. As I walked into the crowd, one women gently pushed my arms down and away from harm. She said,”Oh honey, you will not be needing that.” The sincerity with which she spoke immediately put me at ease and yet the oddness of everything remained.  I asked,”Who are you and why are you here?” Suddenly all conversation ceased and all the women looked at me. I felt a wave of embarrassment as if I was being scolded for talking in the library.  She grasped my hand and looked at me very lovingly as if I was her grandchild and replied,”We are here for you, my child.”

The women now surrounded me in somewhat circular fashion. Normally. this would be alarming but again I felt as if they were there to take care of me. Another women walked through the den and into the living room where I was standing.  She looked very familiar but I could not place her.  She walked straight towards me and asked,” Do you know who I am?” I said,”Sorry I do not, but you look so familiar.” She embraced me quickly and said,”I took the form of someone you know so that you would feel more comfortable.” Although her intention was to comfort me, this statement left me frightened and confused. My eyes surveyed my surroundings again and I looked at the woman and again asked,”Who are you?”

Before the woman could answer, I realized that there was something not right about the scene in the den. Something was afoot and so I slowly walked toward it, the women all stepping back out-of-the-way as I reached them. And there it was, the reason for which the women were there and the source of all my anxiety. It was me.  I was laying on a beautiful assortment of fabric, my eyes were closed and I was not moving.  There were women kneeling all around me and whispering almost in prayer. A hand touched my arm and it was the woman I had been talking to before. She said to me,”We are your guides and we are here to help you.” Despite the supportive tone and energy of the room, I began to fall apart. Help me what? I could only assume I was dying and they were there to help me with the transition. But I did not want to die, I was not ready to die. My God, I was only 30 years old! I grabbed the women by her both arms and vigorously pleaded,”No, I am not ready. What is wrong with me? Why am I dying?”

Everything that was said next seemed to seep into my subconscious more so through osmosis than actual conversation. I gleaned that I was dying from cancer but that it was a cancer of the soul rather than the body. That over the course of my life, all the traumatic experiences had caused parts of me to mutate and surrender to death rather than thirst for life. I was dying from a lack of will. I watched myself for a moment on the colorful pallet where they had placed me. My chest was barely rising and falling and with each breath becoming weaker. I turned to the woman again and told her that I did not want to die. The supportive aspect of her face changed to the severity I had noticed earlier and she said to me,”Then this is your chance. And it is your last one. You must choose to live and really live. We will only help you if you understand that. We know what you have been through and we are sorry for that but you can not give up, if you do this is what will happen.” I nodded that I understood and we embraced and even though it was just an embrace between the two of us, i felt as if every woman in that room was holding me.

I had this dream last night around 4:30 in the morning on the night of a full moon…………………………Now I must try to make good on my chance.


How Netflix saved my Life/Or how I most likely watched more TV shows than humanly possible while sick ;)

Given my recent discovery of the awesome and amazing existence of Netflix, I was inspired to write reviews about some of the absurdly random shows that I have encountered.  They have been there for me through sickness and health.  They have made me laugh, made me cry and they have made me cancel dates to watch marathons of sarcastic, satirical, sexy, silly sitcoms that are much more amusing and a lot less tragic than real life. Well other than Mistresses which is as equally as tragic but containing more attractive people with British accents! 😉 For this little project, I have chosen to break it down into my top-five favorite shows thus far from Britain and the USofA. I have to say, I have found some gems that I would never had known existed until a ridiculously bad sinus infection! So thank you over-run bacteria, your quiet yet aggressive invasion of my body has lead me to delightful dalliances into all that is television and cinema.


Look out for my first synopsis of my arguably favorite British comedy, The IT Crowd……….

Epigenetics and Karma: Can our present be determined by our past or the past of our family?

After much insistence from some friends, I have decided to write a book.  Do I believe it is because they find me to be such a talented writer or that I have amazing enlightening life philosophies? No.  I assert that it is in response to the insane and often sadly entertaining melodramas that have perpetually played out throughout my 30 years of existence.  At times I have felt like Ron Livingston’s character in Office Space, doing nothing would be a welcome vacation.  My life if crammed into the confines of 12o minutes would be more like Four Rooms, several unbelievable vignettes that somehow collide to form a cohesive yet disturbing and hilarious story.  Initially when I sat down to contemplate the best course of action in order to effectively express the lunacy that I have experienced in a fascinating format, I was totally lost.  It felt overwhelming and far too complicated. How on God’s green Earth will it be possible to cover that much ground and communicate all the elements of my life that have created and molded me into who I am now?  It is too much.  But then I figured that I would use my infamous logic to come up with some sort of game plan and I arrived at this:  I have often wondered how Karma and other stimuli affect the causation of certain experiences that we go through, throughout the journey of our lives?

Being a Buddhist, I believe in Karma and reincarnation which to some may appear ridiculous and too “new wave” but oh well.  My inquiries into the subject are vast and numerous but the most recent relate to whether or not my Karma is also a result of that of my parents or their parents before them.  And perhaps Karma is too much a definitive term than what I am attempting to describe but it works in a general sense.  I am more speculating as to how the circumstances and experiences of our parents can lead to the actual determination of our own experiences and destinies.  This got me to pondering evolutionary theory and Darwin’s assertions on Nature versus Nurture and such. Which as an aside has always been quite thought-provoking to me because based on the fundamentals of Nature versus Nurture, my brother and I DESTROY the concept. More on that later…… Understanding that my knowledge on such subjects is limited, I jubilantly took to the internet and stumbled across Epigenetics.


From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

In biology, and specifically genetics, epigenetics is the study of heritable changes in gene expression or cellular phenotype caused by mechanisms other than changes in the underlying DNA sequence – hence the name epi- (Greek: επί– over, above, outer) genetics. It refers to functionally relevant modifications to the genome that do not involve a change in the nucleotide sequence. Examples of such changes are DNA methylation and histone deacetylation, both of which serve to suppress gene expression without altering the sequence of the silenced genes.

I also came across this amazing article in TIME,9171,1952313-1,00.html

What does this have to do with my book? Back to my brother and me…. We share the same DNA.  We were brought up by the same people, attended the same schools and lived in the same house and yet you could not have created too more differing human beings.  So how is this possible?  And the mystery extends beyond us and into our parents as well.  In fact if you were to meet the four of us, individually, other than some shared physical traits and intellects, you would most likely never conclude that we are related.  This would seem to negate the theory of Epigenetics as well but I allege that it actually affirms it.

As I have aged, I have been more interested in learning more about my parents’ lives and even the lives of my grandparents and I have discovered that my psychological make up and even neuroses have direct relation to their experiences, either literally or in direct opposition.  By this I mean that there exist the notion that those abused will either become abusers themselves or they will react in an opposite fashion perhaps taking a highly adamant and vocal stance against abuse.  I, of course, am not speaking of abuse within my own experience, I just used that as a commonly known assertion.  During my delve into my own psyche lately, I have concluded that my main psychological malfunction is that I have issues with abandonment.  It is unfortunately a theme that has reared its ugly head several times throughout my life’s narration.  Karmically(made up word) speaking, I would assume that I either have had a pattern of being abandoned and that my lesson is to overcome it or that I myself have been the abandoner and must learn how destructive it is.  In this life, I am guessing that I need to learn to get over it 😉 Oddly and coincidentally enough though, while researching my parents, I have stumbled across the same theme.  Both have at some point been abandoned by their parents, either emotionally or physically.  And going farther back into the lives of my grandparents, the same theme is present as well.  Is it possible that even before we are born we are predetermined to have issues with certain life occurrences? And if it is possible are our reactions to these issues truly demonstrative of our inherent personalities or are they merely the result of awakened cells within our DNA structures caused by the accumulation of experiences and environments of those before us?

Abandonment is certainly not the only similarity that I have uncovered as well.  We have all lead exciting and wholly unbelievable lives.  Never a dull moment.  Never ruled by convention.  Ours are the lives that movies are made of and that are inconceivable and frightening to others.  Is this genetic?  Is it Karmic?  Were we reincarnated into this family unit BECAUSE we were already struggling with the same issues? I am excited to begin researching this project and to hopefully uncover the answers to these questions while telling the tales of several intriguing players.  We have laughed. We have cried. We have struggled. We have overcome. We have survived. We have lived.

Am I Crazy?

Personal evolution is beginning to feel like a spiritual board game.  I take several steps, sometimes leaps forward and inevitably there is backward motion as well.  I suppose that it is necessary in order to continue moving forward while truly comprehending the path that has been taken.  I began this blogging adventure as a means to process and heal from a terrible break up.  To some, that was courageous and creative. To others it is”crazy” and misunderstood. For the latter, I wish that you could  understand my motives.  I want to have a voice.  When another human being takes control of your life and makes a unilateral and highly destructive decision and actions are forced upon you, you are helpless.  You are no longer an integral part of your own fate, you are plunged into the reality of reaction.  My reactions have spanned the spectrum of human emotion but in the end, I have been pretty impressed with my progress and the way in which I maintained my personal integrity.  But, I am human and I have my set backs, like today.

When it was first brought to my attention that Will was writing a blog and had been secretly for some time, I anxiously and fearfully read it. And there is nothing worse than learning about someone who you thought you knew through their writings.  About the only thing that comes close to this sensation of removed enlightenment, is the falseness of their words.  Upon discovering that he adores making himself seem like a deep, highly evolved, spiritual and altruistic person, I decided that I had read enough.  I KNEW the truth, I had survived it.  And thus I told myself with the encouragement of my friends, that I would not read it again.  Honestly, nothing positive was going to come from it but unfortunately I have masochistic tendencies and every now and then my curiosity gets the best of me and I find myself typing those pathetic letters into google and making the same mistake that I promised myself I would not.  And this is what I found today:

Immediately enraged and disgusted, I came to the conclusion that the only person at fault for these overwhelming emotions, was me.  I had let my curiosity overwhelm my logic.  And it is disappointing when you realize that you are the one who is hurting yourself.  I mean he is NOT going to change, he never was.  So why do I even let it bother me?  I have been asked the same question over and over again, why do I do this to myself?  Well this morning, I finally figured it out.  A dangerous combination of optimism and disbelief.

The optimism tempts me and the disbelief is constant.  I suppose I hope that at some point there will be an apology or an epiphany, something. But it never comes.  I am shockingly still amazed at his ability to learn every life lesson there is to learn except for the one he needs to learn.  Self awareness is not something that you spew forth on a blog entry and create in order to garner the acceptance and praise of others.  It is something that you work towards on a daily basis and my main reason for self-awareness is so that I do not hurt other people or myself with destructive, selfish behaviour.  That is why when my blog is read, you see the flaws, you hear the doubt and you read the truth.  When I talk about Buddha it is not some concept that I throw out because it sounds interesting and philosophical. I have been Buddhist for many years now and it is something that is dear to me so to have the one that hurt me so deeply quoting and paraphrasing beliefs, it is almost insulting.  I want to scream, “HOW DARE YOU?!?”

How dare you act like you are a good person? How dare you not take responsibility for your actions? How dare you talk about love and loss? What did you lose? You ran half way around the world and YOU are talking about loss and pain! How dare you?  I could go on forever with these but in the end this is not about him. The problem is me.

I write extremely personal and unadulterated things because it may save someone from making the same mistakes.  Yeah I guess it is “crazy” to put such things out there in the vastness of the internet.  I honestly wrote the majority of this yesterday and saved it because I was unsure if I wanted to post it.  I began fearing what it would make me appear to be.  I have been told by my sibling several times that this blog, well at least the personal aspect of it makes me look like a psycho girl and so I felt like maybe I should change the direction of it.  Perhaps solely post my poetry or begin writing the treatment for my book but then I realized what a hypocrite I would be.  Anyone can write and share the easy stuff.  The anonymous things that can self promote, it is much more difficult to share your true nature and allow for the possibility of judgment.  If people want to judge me for being hurt, then so be it.  If people want to think that I am a “psycho” because I tell the truth and am unafraid of showing myself, again, so be it.  I know who I am., perhaps for the first time in a very long time.

I am a human who has loved and lost.  I am a woman who is nearing the completion of a very long and arduous process of growth.  I am a Buddhist who is trying to remember the tenants of my beliefs.  I am a spiritual being having a physical experience. Things are not always rainbows and sunshine but they are also not always gray and dark.  This is what I have learned.  I am learning to let go of the things that are painful and remain open to the beauty in life.  I am learning to accept that the Universe is not going to give me what I want but rather what I need.  I am learning what makes me strong and unique but also the traits that are less desirable and need to be addressed.  But is this not the point of living?  I choose to do this openly and I will continue to because I will not be that which I loathe.  I will not only post things that make me look enlightened and interesting.  I hope others will be comforted in that, it is ok to be wherever you are in your process and on your path.  It is ok to have doubts and to question your actions and your emotions.  It is ok to be who you are and to acknowledge your mistakes.

This year will be about this philosophy.  I will be stronger than ever.  I will make more forward progress.  I will recognize my regressions, examine them and move on.  I will continue to work diligently on strengthening my mind and body so that when I look back on this situation, I will know that I conquered it. It may have been painful and exhaustive.  It may have even taken longer than I would have liked. But I will know that I can do anything and I did.  I will also know that I am prepared for any circumstance and that should something of this nature creep its way back into my realm, I will have the skills necessary to move through it more gracefully and more constructively.  I am finding power in my flaws because in the end, they will make me work to be the person that I want to be.

So there it is. If I am crazy then that is fine, I can conquer that too!


The dust of chaos settles upon an uncertain foundation

bewildering situations encourage evolution

the ubiquitous amethyst haze slowly dissipating daily

kind words of strangers rest upon my ears and heart

and gently remedy the illness of insecurity

the real cure though coming from within

experiences wash over my psyche and bombard my senses

as the electricity of a touch, kiss, smile

send slight, surprising shocks down my spine

each cell crying out with relief

the future unknown,

the past abominable,

the present perfectly flawed

it is a new day, new year, new me………..





Gaslighting, a form of emotional manipulation

Happy New Years! Well I expected and hoped that NYE would leave me optimistic and ready to take on the world but per usual someone tried to rain on my parade. To this person, guess what? I still had a great time because I made it that way! So in a way I will thank this person and the universe for giving me a chance to prove that this year will be whatever I make of it, no more depending on others for MY happiness! I remember me 😉

Now for the in-depth analysis…….

A good friend sent me this article the other day on gas lighting and how women are manipulated and perceived as being crazy for having emotional reactions to inconsiderate behaviour.

I assume that he sent this to me because of recent experiences that I shared with him.  Without going into too much detail, I totally and completely agree with the author’s assertion.  I am an intense personality, I mean I am a redhead, it comes with the territory right? But I have also been called abnormally logical for a woman.  The second clause in that sentence is exactly what bothers me about men.  So because I am logical and a woman that is strange?  Seriously?

However, the same man who can compliment my ability to remove all emotion from a situation and handle confrontation rationally can then accuse me of “overreacting” and being “dramatic” when their poor behaviour is called into question.  The idea that both those aspects can truthfully coexist in one human being is a little far-fetched.  I am certainly not asserting that I have NEVER overreacted but it is not my norm.  I am considered to be a strong, independent and intelligent woman. I say that I am “considered” this but I believe it to be true as well or at least I do until a man tells me that I am not.  I am unsure as to what is worse, the fact that I allow myself to judge my entire personality because of what some dude says or the fact that men seem to want to control me with manipulation.  Either way, it is an unhealthy and undesirable cycle.  I find myself making the same excuses and exhibiting the same traits that are described in the article.  Telling someone that it is acceptable that you stood me up, or did not call, or were late, or took the cowardly way out when it is entirely NOT! And why? Because if I tell you what an ahole and how ill-mannered and disrespectful you were, I will be the “crazy” girl.  It is amazing, I spent years in a relationship with someone who manipulated me in this manner and now that I have been back in the dating pool, I have already witnessed it.  I am sorry but common decency and consideration are not too much to ask for and if you are going to try to convince me that they are, you will be met with resistance!

I can only imagine society without the understanding and forgiveness of women.  I also contemplate the legitimacy of the diva philosophy.  I had a friend once that told me I was way too nice and sweet.  She said that this was my problem. She on the other hand acted like a total diva to guys. If they did ONE thing that she did not like, she either totally iced them out or acted like a total bitch.  Unfortunately, this garnered the  opposite reaction that I would expect, they loved it.  They chased her down, begged for her attention, bought her gifts, took her to elaborate dinners and vacations.  They could not get enough and it was almost as if the meaner and more irrational she was, the harder they tried.  Up to this point, I have rejected this philosophy.  If I have to play games and act out of character then I do not want you.  But some men really do seem to respond to the challenge girls, which I appear to be at first.  After awhile though, they figure out that the tough and hardened exterior that I present is just that.  Once the facade is penetrated the goal has been accomplished and interest is lost.  And yet, I hear men endlessly complain about bitches, gold diggers, divas, and self-absorbed women. But when confronted with a good, sweet and caring chick that digs them, it is just too easy.  So the acting out commences and they start testing your resolve.  And when you have finally had enough of the BS and you express your frustration and disapproval, you are a psycho or melodramatic.

I am all for personal accountability and growth but the endless attempts at deflecting responsibility lead nowhere.  I am not crazy for expressing my dislike for something rude and inconsiderate.  It does not make me a drama queen that when I caught you being dishonest I told you that it was unacceptable.  Now if I threw my shoe at you and cursed you out or slashed your tires, maybe……. But merely stating my displeasure, no!

So here’s a thought, women stop criticizing yourselves for being expressive and dudes, if you did something that is not cool, admit it and move on!

Now then 2012, watch out because this girl is feeling empowered 😉