Wednesday, May 30, 2012

No One Can Inception Me But Me

So. Hi.

About four nights a week, I write news copy for a radio wire company.  It's a perfect second job, because I can do it on the couch in my socks, I like writing, and it provides some extra dolla bills, or as I like to call it, "avoiding creditor stalkings as a result of our trip to Ireland." I love the writing, but since I've been going at it pretty hard over the past couple of months, I'm starting to feel a little...weary.


You tried to teach your 9-year-old to drive and she wrecked your car into a Waffle House? You robbed a convenience store and cops found you because you left a trail of candy wrappers all the way to your house? You sewed your son's butt-cheeks together so that he would "stop having" Crohn's disease? I don't know what to do with you. How do we exist in the same world? Do you know what I do that's weird? I can't go to bed if the cap is off my toothpaste. That's the world between you and me.

So there's a new news story going around that I had the extreme misfortune of reading about on Sunday. It's absolutely, awe-inspiringly horrifying. As I was reading it, I could hear myself saying "Maria. YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO UN-SEE THIS." But I read on, and I was right, I can't un-see it, and now it's haunting me. (Remember this? This is a real problem, ok?)

All jokes aside, I'm not lying when I say this story has been causing me stress. Like, physically and emotionally. It won't leave me alone. I talked to a friend yesterday about it, and what she said made me think of the below clip. And this clip is relevant because of what Joseph Gordon-Leavitt is saying, not because of the pensive and omg totes gorg glance of Leo towards the end, but if you need to re-watch it a couple of times to make sure you get that part then so be it.

Unlike Mr. Richpants here who gets super old in limbo yet NO ONE SHAVES HIS HORRIBLE BEARD (actually, that's kind of another one of those images that haunts me), I am trying to learn the discipline of controlling my mind. As in, I want to be able to bend spoons and change the TV channel to TLC just by looking at the remote. KIDDING! AHA! Really what I mean is, I want to get better at saying "Maria. You don't have to think about this. Here, think about unicorns."

That's kind of a new concept to me. I remember a few years ago talking about Celine Dion (a daily conversation topic, get ok with it) with a friend, and my friend said "Ugh. I don't listen to sad music anymore, because it makes me sad." And I thought, geniunely - what a novel idea! I guess we don't have to listen to/read/watch things that could make us sad, or angry, or scared.

That's why I have never seen Marley and Me, and I kind of avoid Mumford & Sons, and I will never read "The Secret Life of Bees" again, even though it's a favorite. If I don't want to be melancholy, then I won't be and you can't make me. Not even you, Joseph Gordon-Leavitt aka kid from Angels in the Outfield who unfortunately grew out of his chubby face.

And that doesn't make me weak. Actually, it makes me feel pretty empowered. No one is gettin' into this brain space unless I say OK. Or unless you're Bob Harper, because I want you to be my mentor.

So when terrible news stories and tragic things start to creep into my psyche I'm going to start going somewhere else, deliberately. Right now, this song has become my go-to. I don't really know why, other than the fact that I was listening to it in the car when I first decided that I could be in charge of my brain.

"We take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ." - 1 Corinthians 10:5.

Be in charge! Just don't think about elephants. Hee hee ha ha ho ho.

Monday, May 28, 2012

(In)courage Post Today

Hello one and all! Thanks for stopping by and please be sure to click on over to (In)courage today, a really special site for women that I have been privileged enough to be published on. Hope you like it, and I hope you're having a lovely Memorial Day.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Ireland Be Around the Corner

The reason I haven't written lately about our looming trip to another continent has nothing to do with my lack of excitement for it, but everything to do with my psychological need to turn any extreme emotion (anticipation, excitement, cherfulness, gas) into STRESS. Every time someone asks me "how many more days" until Ireland I usually fling my hands to my forehead and say a word that Sister Rosemary would have hit me for in second grade.


But, once I get over that, my mind wanders to green hills and bagpipes and centuries-old ship docks and I get too excited to do anything other than daydream. So today I thought I'd share our little itinerary. Here.

The black line is where we are going/evidence of my mad skilLllLZZzz at Microsoft Paint. (I once drew a grilled cheese that you could see George Bush's face in.)

So we are flying into Belfast (TITANIC-VILLE) which is in the UK, not Ireland, in case you didn't know. I'm about 3/4 of the way through "Trinity" by Leon Uris and I can see where this is going. Northern Ireland, I don't know about you. I think you're kind of a bully.

Anyway, then we're heading to Dublin to do museums and parks and city hall and Trinity College and the Guiness factory and Temple Bar.

One day while we're in Dublin we'll do a little side trip to the Wicklow mountains to see Glendalough, which are monastic ruins from THE YEAR 600. SIX. HUN. DRED.

Then we'll trek to Tipperary for a stop at the Rock of Cashel on our way to our final spot, Doolin. Some people familiar with Ireland have said "Doolin? Really?" when I've told them we're staying there. Because I think the town is pretty much two streets of quaint buildings and the seashore. But the book I bought to help plan the trip said "do you want to hear authentic Irish music?" And I said "YES ONE MILLION." And the book said "Then go to Doolin and hang out in the pubs." And I said "DONE."

Then, when I called the absurdly adorable place we're staying to make our reservation, and the Irish-talkin' gentleman asked me "how many nights, luv" I said three, and he said "oh, darlin', good choice. No one stays here longer than one night and they always be regretting it." (His grammar was not this poor, but my conversational embellishments only serve to paint a picture of how awesomely awesome his Irishness was, so why don't you just play along, ok.)

From there we MIGHT take a day trip on the ferry to see Narnia aka Hogwarts aka The Kylemore Abbey.

Then we'll be flyin' home from the Shannon airport, luv.

Holy Sister Rosemary, I can't wait for this.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

The Baby Question

This is also how Aaron looks at small children.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

All Up In The Interweb

Dudesies! Today I conquered one of my top ten fears and guest blogged on my sweet friend's fashiony website thing. Chickity chickity check it out NOW! Preview below: (Doggies with big brown eyes are the new Prada.)

Monday, May 14, 2012

I'm not going to call this post "Ch Ch Ch Changes"

I don't even really know that song anyway and I bet it's terrible.

Something happened in my non-internet life parts recently that started a terrible game of "let's find out who you've given authority to" that ended (is still ending) in some salty tears and a dramatic journal entry or two. I've given lots of people authority in my life. Real scary authority, like the authority to tell me what's real and what isn't and whether I'm valuable or not.  If I were a betting lady I'd bet everyone gives authority to other people throughout their lifetimes.

(Have you seen The Avengers yet, like a good 21st century non-martian? Remember that gross scene where Mr. Black-Hair-Feminine-Scowl is telling the group of overpaid Hollywood extras that 'human beings crave being ruled'? I think we crave approval and that translates into our want to be 'ruled,' if you have to call it that. Also that could lead into a Spiritual discussion but I just ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich so I'm totally not up for that, guys.) My point in mentioning THE AVENGERS is 1. My SEO prowess and 2. exhibiting the universal truth that we all crave something that comes from someone else - approval, et. al. That's why I think we give people authority over us; meaning that's why we let their words/thoughts of us mean something in our heart areas.

But alarm alarm - that's so very bad! Stop doing it!

You'll run into trouble if you give way too much authority to another human being who is as equally as much of an asshole and incapable of perfection as you. Attention, attention: that's everyone.

No one deserves to be the standard in your life of You. No one can tell you whether you Are Pretty or Aren't Pretty or whether you deserve to be sat next to at a restaurant. Make sure you're not letting anyone do that. The real danger is that you are, and that that person is a real monster. (If that ship has already sailed for you, mine too, so lets get a soy milk latte and binge-read Harry Potter through the tears together.)

It's hard to take authority back from someone, but it's possible and something you should do right now, but not because I'm telling you to (OMG THIS IS BACKFIRING.)

Your test of value is whether you are a child of God, and you are. Done. Just sitting there eating individually wrapped Ghirardelli squares and reading this blog, you are beautiful and wonderful and you've added something to the earth realm (AVENGERS AVENGERS) that no one else ever could or will, and I love you too.

Also I dyed my hair brown because I almost jumped off the posh-bob-cliff again so I had to channel my "MUST CHANGE" energy somewhere else. I think it's lovely and I'm the only authority on me. LOOK AT IT AND LOVE IT (Drop mic and exit.)