It's Two AM

Actually, the time has rolled past two AM. You are still lying there, wiggling your toes under the covers; eyes open to the ceiling, millions of thoughts rushing through your mind. Those thoughts, comprising of all things positive and all things negative with the other souls whom surround your life: the golden ones, the young ones, the close ones, the past ones, the new ones. This is not the first time you have watched the hours tick by while you lay awake, toes wiggling with the same velocity as your minds racing. Funny how you think your toes are connected to your brain, measuring its thought waves as a seismograph measures the earth’s rumblings.

You know one of the main reason your mind races is because of “he.” There are too many he’s in this world who have rattled your mind from the darkest hours of dusk to dawn’s wakening flash. He’s who have hurt you, confused you, teased you, pleased you, comforted you, annoyed you, loved you, hated you. He’s who have spun you in circles and he’s who have propelled you down different lanes in life. Why does it always have to be stupid he’s!! You are too old to let him get under your skin…but you forgot to tell your toes this, as they are still wiggling under the covers.

“Remember the European?” they wiggle in Morse code. “Tall dark and handsome. The first to pay any attention to you since you ate divorced waffles for breakfast.” Yes. You remember him. In love with you the first night, hugging you, holding your hand. You did not think this single life would be so bad. Yet there you were, the night after your first date, staring at the ceiling, toes wiggling, brain running an all night marathon. Thankfully that round ended soon, with his prompt boredom of your life and the casual cessation of communication. The dating game, round one, ended with a score of You – Zero, Team of He – One.

“How about that one kid who was a friend from the past?” Your toes wiggle next. The night you called to plot that rendezvous… yep, following the phone call, you were here with cramping toes and dark eyes. Then the he who served you divorced pancakes, he has a hard time letting your mind rest easy. The he who was young and refused to accept the hint that you were trying to back out of this Game of He. The he whom a sympathetic mother put on your path.

I thought you swore off this anxiety riddled mess.
Yet here you are, and there is no rest for your toes tonight. Have you upset the Sandman? Why has he neglected to come and sing you to blissfully sound slumber? That is definitely a he whom you need to dance with on the plain of good terms. He sets your mind to dreams of flying along the water’s edge, it’s waves crashing just under your sailing being. He stops the racing minds day dreams from working overtime into night dream’s domain.

Great, your toes have wiggled too much tonight and now you have a piercing cramp in your right arch. May sleep or sunrise come soon.

Dear Prudence...

Won’t you come out to play.
Dear Prudence,
Greet the brand new day
The sun is out, the sky is blue,
It’s beautiful and so are you
Dear Prudence,
Won’t you come out to play.

Prudence: Wisdom. Insight. Knowledge.
Not the action, but rather the motivation for appropriate action at a given time and place. The exercising of sound judgment.

Should I stay or should I go now? (Clash)
With or without you? (U2)

Three songs, all relating in someway to the same question we all face from time to time: now what?

Should I stay or should I go now?
Have I been in the same place so long that it is now time to move on, to go out and play? It is so easy to want a change of scenery. Possibly Prudence is here to show me that where I am is where I need to stay, perhaps a move is not in the picture…yet. Or maybe that is Prudence packing my bags, hinting to me that it is time to go.

With or without you?
Do I go it alone? Am I in a life that needs another to help, or will the other hinder? Do I seek this other for comfort? Is it love or am I settling because I have not yet found a Better Man (Pearl Jam)? Perhaps Prudence is holding up a mirror to show me I am beautiful enough a person to continue it solo. Or maybe Prudence is singing out so I recognize the person in front of me is truly my mate, sans mirror of course….

Dear Prudence,
Open up your eyes
Dear Prudence,
See the sunny skies
The wind is low, the birds will sing
That you are part of everything
Dear Prudence,
Won’t you open up your eyes.

Prudence is inside each of us…docilitas…an open mindedness. Prudence helps us to recognize true variety of things and situations. We turn to others for advice because Prudence needs the input of others who have lived, who have the experience and authority of a given idea.

Dear Prudence, open my eyes so I too may see the sunny skies. I need that clear day coaxing me out with promises of warmth and adventure. I need to hear the birds calling me out to relish in beautiful surroundings. Dear Prudendce, I want to know where it is I need to be, so I can truly be a part of this life.

Dear Prudence, open up my eyes.

Look around, round, round, round, round….

Choices. Bombarding from every direction. Dear Prudence, open my circumspection. Help the battling choices creating chaos in my mind work out a way to peace. Make the answers more clear just as the days for which you want me to join. Dear Prudence, don’t make the day sunny and bright, yet cold and crisp… the sun’s heat better felt through closed windows. One choice may seem simple, yet wrong, like shorts on a blustery day. Close my eyes to those tricks. Dear Prudence, Look Around. Where can I go?

Do I stay inside today, or do I go out into the world?
Where are my sunny skies? Where are the birds calling me to be?
Like a little child on a new adventure...
Open up my eyes to see where it is I can go to play.
Dear Prudence, I would like to smile again.
Dear Prudence.


(Dear Prudence - John Lennon; The Beatles)

Take Me Back to New Orleans

Life is a journey. Not meant to be stagnant, lived in “rut”ful worry about what tomorrow might bring. Sure, I am one to give advice, but not one to live the advice. Yet this weekend, I did something out of line with type “A” thinking… (which I am certainly not “Type A”…nor “B” for that matter…)

Sunday night, I travelled to New Orleans for a concert at the House of Blues. I did not have tickets for this concert, certainly not for lack of trying. Nor did the website once advertised a sold out show. Was I a fool to head to the “Big Easy” for a show sans guaranteed entry to the musical festivities? Many thought yes. And sure enough, upon reaching the box office with hopeful anticipation for tickets, I and my small group of fellow travelers were confirmed in our fears of the sold out show. So off we went, to the “Gumbo Shop” to determine if we were truly disappointed in our failure to gain access to the House of Blues. The result remained part yes and part no, no definitive on either end of the line. However, Monday found us back to our scheduled plan: waking to chicory coffee and binets, wandering the galleries of the French Quarter, and picnicking on Whole Foods fare at Audubon Park. All in all, an amazing day...full of sunshine and great company.

So my question is: would we have still gone to the Crescent City knowing we would not gain access to the show?
I hope the answer would have been yes. Too often we miss great opportunities because we need an “excuse” to get to where we really want to be. Do we really need a reason to take a day off from work to wonder the streets of a nearby city, or lay on the beach during an unseasonably warm day, or sit at home in bed for hours finishing a really great book? Too often we feel guilty or selfish when we take the time to simply enjoy our existence. Why?
I can understand the abuse of these situations. But I also understand the opposing abuse: we too often feel like we need to be doing something “productive” – laundry, cleaning, yard work. We rarely do stuff just for us.
I love life, I want to live life. I don’t want to have to answer a “for what reason” question with much more of an explanation than: “because I want to.”

Why do you want to go to culinary school? Because I want to – I love to cook
Why do you want to move away? Because I want to – there is so much to see
Why do you have three dogs? Because I want to - they are my children
Why do you want to learn a new instrument? Because I want to – music moves my soul
Why did you up and go to New Orleans for the day? Because I wanted to…I love that place!

The "Season" of Lent

It’s a Christian thing. Actually, I think it is more a Catholic thing. I grew up Catholic. I remember the season of lent and the importance my family put on the “prep time” for Easter. I remember the abstinence from meat on Friday’s. I remember going to the Knights of Columbus hall for the weekly fish fry (why was fish not considered meat anyway?). I remember my birthday ALWAYS happened during lent, so Friday birthday parties were cheese pizza and mozzarella sticks. I remember HATING lent.

Today, I love visiting my parents during this season going with them to the “Knight’s” hall for fried fish and beer. Today, I love the idea of self check and sacrifice. Today, I realize that Lent is actually the reason for my becoming vegetarian. And today, no longer a practicing Catholic, I have discovered in my peers a new focus regarding the season of Lent. And it kind of depresses me.

There are some things the Catholics do with success: instill feelings of guilt, worship with sensory appeal (you see the crucifix, touch the holy water, smell the incense, hear the word, taste the Eucharist), and faithfully practice their holy days (such as Easter, Christmas, Good Friday, the Annunciation, Christ’s Ascension). The Catholics have their "Holy Days of Obligation." People fast. People get ashes placed upon their foreheads. People abstain from guilty pleasures. People light candles. People confess sins to a priest. People pray the rosary. It’s a Catholic thing!

Outside the Catholic faith, this lent “thing” is a completely different beast. As I facilitate communications with my teens, I discover their view of lent models more a second go round at New Year’s resolutions. Their initial resolve to lose weight is lost with the coming of February or March. But hey, it’s lent, here’s an idea: I’ll give up chocolate. Why?
For the mentality of a teenager: "If I don’t eat chocolate for 40 days, I will loose 40 pounds."
Selfish bastards.

Kidding. So, since when did Lent become such selfish practice? Since when did these 40 days become a short term resolution testing ground? Now, I won’t stand upon my soap box and say: “Lent is a time to make sacrifices so you can become more in tuned to the ways of the true Christ.” Sometimes I think Christ would laugh at our over bearing piousness.

Here is my soapbox sticker for the Season of Lent:
Why do we need a sacrifice to make ourselves miserable “for Christ” during such a time when winter blahs are already at their height. I’ve mentioned before that the Chinese get it right by celebrating the New Year with light, bright colors, family and FOOD!
In my opinion, this is not a season to be miserable. This is a season for self improvement, but not defined by ideas of selfish gain. A personal belief in God is not my issue. My issue deals with the motivation behind “giving up chocolate” for forty days. To fast from something is great, but such personal sacrifice for self improvement should be done to: (A) become more spiritual (ask Buddhist monks about this) or (B) open eyes to the suffering of others.
Really, lent should not a time to renew New Year's resolutions. It works much better as a time to open our eyes to new ideas, lifestyles...a time to look outside ourselves and focus attention on those not as lucky to have the abundance of "chocolate" to "give up." It is a time to retune our soul, psyche, or essence if you will, to the world around and outside our immediate physical sphere.

That is all. I descend my soapbox.

Happy New Year

again...

The 7th of February was the official beginning of Chinese New Year celebrations. It is the first day of the “new” year which contains the new moon. What a great way to start! The new year “begins” this day, because celebrations go on for fourteen days!! (Like our Mardi Gras, but shorter) They celebrate during the time when “winter blues” are at greatest height. The Chinese are genius! They surround themselves with light, bright colors, and family. Three things which help dissolve winter sadness that tends to occur during the shortest and coldest days of the year. Again, I say Genius.

So I officially bid you Welcome... to the Year of the Rat.

I love Chinese astrology. Much more than I like the known “signs” associated with our birth months. Chinese astrology is annually based. It simply astounds me to think that ALL those born the same year as I, all who are currently in their 28th year of life, are akin to me in some astrological attributes. Now I understand that, as with many astrological predictions and associations, the definitions are so vast that you are sure to find some similiarities to your “sign.” But I am not going to burst bubbles or blow secrets on Santa Claus. The stars make complete sense and are to be trusted; we should all live by astrological expectations.
Or, better yet, let us just have fun reading the zodiac’s characterization of personalities.

I am a sheep.
I am the “most artistic or creative sign of the zodiac.”
The sheep has a great sense of fashion (ok…missed that one…)
Is extremely beautiful (I think they mean inside…)
Tries not to hurt anyone’s feelings (true…)
Very sympathetic and at times can be too sensitive for the real world (again, true…)
Sometimes requires too much attention and impose too much on others (I don’t do that do I?? Hm, hm, tell me now…I need to know…do I impose?!? I’m coming over, I need to know. We need to talk about this!!)
Can be insecure (is this bad? You are still my friend right?)
Shies away from confrontation and pulls back when faced with heavy decisions (I really don’t feel too strongly either way in this matter…)

Are all 28 year olds like this? Again, I think the defining terms are so vast that we can all be sheep in our own funny little bleating way.

What really facinates me though, are the similarities between the different year rotations. There are 12 animal signs which cycle through the Chinese zodiac. So there is animal overlap through the ages.
For example: Both my mother and my older brother are Tigers. Why couldn’t I have been a tiger, how cool is that! My dad shares the Dog sign with my younger brother…hahahaha, dogs!
The fascinating part: In my family my ma and older brother were very similar, as well as my dad and younger brother. I was odd gal out -the “black sheep” if you will (but not in a bad way).

Those Tigers: warm-hearted yet fearsome, courageous yet yielding. They like visiting unusual places, enjoy first-hand experiences, assess situations prior to action, and are generally optimistic. I can see the “tiger” in my ma and bro.
And the Dog: loyal, trustable, duty bound. They can be stubborn and temperamental. Often they need warming up to others and can often be judgmental. Dogs also like hands-on activities. And again, I see this in my dad and younger brother.

So what shoes will the babies born in this year of the Rat have to fill? The Rat, by the way, is the first sign of the cycle. Rats are leaders. Charming, passionate, practical and hardworking. They are energetic and versatile and adapt to various environments easily. (Some of this sounds eerily like the real animal…)

I read this off a Chinese zodiac website: “Behind the smiles and charm, rats can be terribly obstinate and controlling. … These people tend to have immense control of their emotions, which they may use as a tool to manipulate and exploit others.” Sad, the rodent started out well enough.
I will not make assumptions from this sign in regards to the type of year we face. But I did shudder when I realized it is an election year. I wonder what “animal” will be chosen to lead our country by this year’s end.

Oh, and just FYI:
Hillary Clinton and Ron Paul are both Pigs
Barack Obama is an Ox
John McCain is a Rat
Mike Huckabee is a Sheep

Tofu Tamale Pie

Yes, the love affair with tofu has not become official. It exists, and I, as a vegetarian, try my best to make peace with the soy product. I have had fried tofu which left much to be desired on the palate. In one experiment, I sautéed tofu in salsa. That was amazing, and a great siding to salad!

But I must say, I like my tofu cooked in real saucy dishes so as to absorb the flavor and add nice texture to what may otherwise be called “soup.” Take the Tamale Pie. You could add can after can of beans, but the tofu in this recipe really makes up for lack of filler and soaker uper of liquid! And in my humble opinion…it tastes much better than chicken!!
So, try it out. It was my food experiment for January…and won approval from three teenagers!

The Bottom:
.:Sauté in oil:.
¾ cup chopped onion
¾ cup chopped bell pepper
3 cloves of garlic
.:Stir in:.
2 Tbs Chili Powder
½ tsp cumin
.:Mix well then add:.
28 oz can crushed tomatoes
.:Bring to a boil, then stir in:.
1 – 2 cans kidney beans (2 cups cooked from dry)
1 can corn
1 pkg diced firm tofu (1 ½ cups)
Half to a whole chopped tomato…pending taste…

Simmer and season with salt, pepper, chipotle Tabasco, Louisiana Red Dot Hot Sauce, fresh chopped parsley…
Continue to simmer while you prepare the “Top”

The Top:
.:In a Large bowl, sift together:.
½ cup cornmeal
½ cup all purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp sugar
½ tsp salt
.:In a Medium bowl, wisk together:.
1 egg
1 egg white
2/3 cup milk (I used soy…it was good)
3 Tbs. melted butter

Mix wet into Large bowl of dry.
Fold in 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese

In a large casserole dish, dump in “the Bottom." Dollop corn bread mixture on top, smearing around so it covers the bottom. Have fun and garnish with rings of green peppers…be colorful and add rings of red bell peppers…toss on a couple of sliced black olives if you like em…

Bake at 400 degrees for 30 to 35 minutes, or until the top is brown and a stick inserted ONLY INTO THE TOPPING comes out clean. Spoon into dishes, dollop with sour cream, and serve!!

This was really good, if not better, the next day…just so you know.

Monday, Bloody Monday

I hate Mondays
And Wednesdays.
Sorry. I don’t really hate those days. That would mean I hate the programs I both run and help run. Years ago, when I ran a Wednesday “program” for a different job, I would go out for an adult beverage with a friend and co-worker simply to defrag. But now, I am alone. I am not complaining because I A) have no friends, nor B) have no man to call my own. A) I have friends, and B) I could care less whether I have a man or not. Let me clarify that I am not concerned with the drama involved in dating.

No, I complain because I have no one who is able and willing to have a beer with me following such programs. And I understand. I have one friend whom I called this evening for a beverage, but his wife was preparing dinner and was expecting him home. I was invited as well. This is all fine and I understand her position; yet, I was not in the mood for home civilization and drink, nor was I in the mood for said wife to be pessimistic over my life.

Warning: a Digression::
Said wife IS my best friend, however, I am internally pessimistic enough and do not always need her telling me everything else which is “wrong” in my life. Further more, she constantly insists on pointing out how my decisions will eventually hurt me or put me in grave debt. Now, her husband is also a good friend, is allowed to go to the bar with me (pending permission), and can be decent conversation. All in all, it is a good arrangement: we can have a beer while joking and harrassing life. I love them both. Yet, neither one can freely go out for a beverage with me at the local bar, because she hates going out, and he is not allowed without wife’s permission.

So, back to my rant. I like the idea of going out with a friend for a beverage on either a Monday or Wednesday night. Not both, per say, but either. And on such a givin night, when I feel the desire for a drink, I have no one I can call. Now, I do go out by myself quite a bit. The reason is not antisocal, it is more because my friends:
Do not like going out
Do not have permission to go out,
Are pregnant, and drinking is just not healthy
Have children at home

Thus the dilemma with my age range…either married with children or married with children on the way. Go them…and thank the goodness I am not in their shoes - but that is another story.

So when a Monday or Wednesday kill me, you will find me alone at the bar.

Often, I sit at work after program with parallel thoughts in my head, thinking I’d be just as happy going home, should I make it home, but a beer would be wonderful just the now. My thoughts revolve around the idea that I have just run programs involving either children or teenagers. I would not call it glorified babysitting in respect to my high schoolers, but then again…I do have three or four whom I would gladly charge their parents a fee. The post program outings do not involve drinking away the woes and stress of the evening. Rather, they involve reemerging myself into the world which I should call my own: the world of a “pushing 30” year old. I want to go out to the bar for a drink or two with friends my own age. People I can relate with. People who think the same way, live the same way, drink the same way as me.

Now do not get me wrong, I love my kids. I really do. But they are teenagers. They do not understand what it means to be an independant gal with three dogs and a house payment. They do not get the realities facing a single woman whose parents no longer foot the bills. (And bless mom and dad for that...) It becomes a twilight zone of teenage ideology when they believe it their mission to “hook” me up with a parental’s single friend. But they are lost in the whole high school drama defined by the latest movie or song geared at their generation. I am above that. Sure, I befriend their parents, but not as buddies I can call late at night with a blue mood looming and ice cream and wine taunting from the sidelines. Their parents are adult alies faced with the same goal of raising their kids to be the best they can be in a world set on pushing them the opposite direction.

Being a youth director can be a pain! It limits the friends circle. People my age are either scared off by my work or are so super immersed in the in the life of the "church" that they would never find themselves in the places I like to call “Cheers.”

Sometimes I think that to survive my age, I may need to find a new life.