AWOL brain

So, yesterday, at the last minute, my eldest daughter explains that they are having a Christmas Party for her AJROTC group at her high school and she really-really-really-please-mom wanted to make cuppy cakes.

Being a moderate fan of the tiny little sneakable baked goods, I do the mommy mutter all the way to the store.  Bobble-head is in tote, squee-ing over the idea that she's baking for her friends.  She settles on lemony cuppy cakes, lemon and strawberry icing.  When we return home, she sets about destroying the kitchen.  

Standard Operating Procedure for a teenage kid with a sweet tooth.

Anyway, late into the night, the smell of warm lemon wafts through the house.  I start in on the whole be-a-responsible-adult-thing. "Now, darling, you realize you need to clean this mess before you go to bed, right?"

"Yes, mommy!"  

"All right.  I'm off."  And so I go to bed fitfully.  Stupid cold, stupid congestion.

I wake up to a catastrophe of epic proportions.  Shuffling down the hall and by the kitchen, I realize all the lights are off, save for the artificial glow of the white yule tree beaming at me good morning.

Ugh.

I tap on doors now, waking kids, who probably should have been awake at least half an hour before me.  When I reach my teenager's room, I call off into the darkness.

"You awake?"

"Am now."

"Good....because man, you're gonna be late."

Then I proceed to explain to her that when I say the dishes have to be done before she goes to bed, garsh-dern-it, they have to be done before she goes to bed.  I'm not mean, but I'm like, "Really?  Seriously?  What part of dishes-before-bed got lost in translation?"

With a groan, she sets about hurriedly doing all of her morning getting ready activities at top speed.  During this time, the trooper doesn't really complain, she just focuses at what she's doing while I take her younger sister to school.  It's only a few blocks away, and by the time I make it home, the teenager is now at the end of the driveway, balancing two plates of cupcakes on one arm and has a cake carrier full of cupcakes on the other (and a jacket over that arm, and a backpack filled to capacity slung on her back).

"Can you drop me off at the JROTC building and then take me back to the main building so I'm not too terribly late?  I have a test this morning."

"Crud, what do I look like?  Your mom or something?  A taxi?"

She giggles a bit and tries to figure out how to squeeze into the autobot, so I roll my eyes and take the cake carrier with a long-suffering look.

As we make our way to the giant hamster playscape that is her high school, it is not uncommon for cars to stop on the main thoroughfare and drop kids off, holding up all of those diligent parents which drop our kids off at the specifically designated drop-off lines.  A kid pops out of the car in front of us and shuffles along hurriedly.  My daughter rolls her eyes and mutters a name.

"That kid has no integrity whatsoever."

I personally thought that comment might be a little harsh.  I mean, he's a kid, and I'm just one of those fools that believes most people are basically good people.

"What makes you say that, dear?  What is the definition of integrity?"

"Integrity is doing the right thing, even if no one is watching," she recites, being that it's part of the creeds and definitions and what have you that she has to memorize for JROTC.

"Hmm.  Well, what makes you think he doesn't have any?"

"He's always late, mom.  He never dresses the way he's supposed to, never tucks in his shirt.  And never has his badge.  And he's really disrespectful to other officers."

I thought of this a moment.  "You know, when I was ya'll's age," (I think I died a little when I said that) I said slowly, "I did the right thing when no one was looking.  But I didn't care much...for rules.  Like tucking in your shirt and stuff.  Why should there be a rule for how I dress?"

"But mom, there are gangs."

"Well....maybe there are gangs because people don't like to be told every rules for every single detail of their lives.  Maybe if there were less rules, there might be less rule breakers."

Yeah, I was kind of surprised that came out of my mouth too, as she looked at me (as I looked at her, as I tried to drive 20 down the street and not hit kids).

"Maybe."

So as she made her cuppy-cakes-like-drug-run drop-off, I thought about what I just said, and I thought about her responses.

My daughter wants to be a Marine.  To our family, and in regards to our friends, serving our country is an honorable thing.  We don't always necessarily agree with choices which are made, with war, but we do have a lot of respect for those that serve.  And while I applaud the idea that she is learning discipline, honor and courage, I also want to make sure that if she is going to follow along with the herd, that she is keenly aware of the exit gates conveniently located throughout the pen.  

As we grow older, our choices get distinctively and even more complex.  Add in the responsibility of guiding another person through the darkness with you, someone who depends on you (heck, I have two, and a partner in crime that is muddling along in the darkness with me), and it makes for a really insane run through the starless night.  Since 'perfect' isn't anyone on the horizon of my life or my person (Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it had a  ghillie suit, bought itself a new identity, skipped down and was on the first boat to some uncharted island), I have a lot of those, "WTF ARE YOU THINKING?" moments.

This morning just happened to be one of those moments.

The Call of the Anonymous

If our culture was more focused on the arts and education, and the idea of compassion and civil action, maybe things wouldn't have gotten so far out of hand.  In a time where capitalism is priority and people are left to scrounge, there has been a long season of discontent.

About every few hundred years, it seems that governments have some sort of revolution.  In an age of 'civility' and so many interesting and quick ways to kill someone, the majority is kept 'in check' through fear and threat of death.  But in even a half-educated society, people are really kind of starting to get pissed off.

I find it amusing and strange, seeing these pictures flash across the internet - the satirical mask of a would-be conspirator, the image of a movie about revolution and change.  And yet, the reality of the matter is, that if the movement is truly as large and wide-ranging as it appears to be through the murkier parts of the internet, the prospects are frightening.

I really believe that we are on the threshold of a radical and profound change.  I know that I am an idealist - I get that a lot, but I believe the way we think about things is changing, or it should, and too many people realize that we are careening dangerously near the cliff of self-inflicted extinction.  It's rather much closer than most people believe, than the media is allowed to report, or the governments want us to know.  It is only through knowledge, environmental awareness, and compassion for our fellow man will we be able to survive.  Because that is truly what it is becoming - not a race (he who has the most when he dies wins), but a fight for survival of the human race.  It may not be my children who deal with it, nor theirs, but in the next few generations, our environmental impact with reach a critical mass which in which the 1% will not be able to hide.  Even now, with the genetically altered corn and the fact even the most jaded media (like TIME and PEOPLE) report that beloved stars/leaders/idols of our time die of cancer (about 80%), people are starting to get a clue-by-four to the head.  The evidence?  Look around.  People are swimming in trash.  Bees are disappearing.  Trees are being ripped out and replaced by concrete.

Something's got to give.  And soon. But knowing this, knowing that something is coming...well, hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

I wonder how many people will answer the call by Anonymous.  I wonder who will march on Nov. 5th?

The Message from Anonymous makes sense.

hammering on the forge

An old dream, once dusty and darkened with age, was put upon the forge and fired again.  It light up, glowing and warm, and slowly, it is being hammered into shape.

Since I was very young, I wanted to create a metaphysical book store.

This dream started in a small shop called Gateways in Seabrook, Texas.  The shop was small when it started, opening in a small, unused church behind a Whataburger off of highway 146.

It was a beautiful little store.  It was filled with delightful smells, with crystals that were supposed to have power.  Millions of pieces of rainbow danced across surfaces of counters and floors, lit by big, bright windows and flung far and wide by leaded, cut crystals hanging from the ceiling.  Angels adorned shelves, along with books and boxes.  Meditation music played softly as jewelry glittered silently inside of glass cases.  This brilliant place was serene, and the the people behind the counters were kind and soft-spoken.

When I was younger, not quite a teen, this was a treat, to be able to go to this place.  This little bookstore was a place my stepmother used to take me, looking for heartfelt gifts.  The owner offered a Course in Miracles and other such new-age things.  This shop moved twice in its long career (as far as these stores go) and became a very strong presence in a spiritual community of alternative beliefs.  The owner passed away, then the shop was passed onto her daughter.  With her wife, she ran this shop that catered to the pagan community, eventually offering classes on herbs, on basic Wicca, past lives, and other various workshops.

Ever since I was 11, I dreamed of being able to do the same thing.  Being surrounded by wondrous, magical things and  catering to the pagan community.

A few weeks ago, this dream started becoming a reality.

My husband and I have talked a lot about the feasibility of opening a store.  It takes a lot of capital, and frankly, unless you're gifted with it through great credit or maybe someone passing (gods forbid), then it's hard to come up with that kind of money.  So, as a modest start, we've started a small booth inside a flea market in Houston.

The name of our booth, our 'store' is In Between.  We chose the name, because of it's multiple meanings - we are always in between one part of our lives and the next, and in ritual, we are in all worlds and between all worlds.  We are creatures in constant motion, between one lesson and the next.  We are neither here, nor there.

The idea has more evolved to being a spiritual gift and book store.  Path is irrelevant.  We are all on our own path, doing our own thing, hoping to be doing the right thing, and sometimes we have an adventure buddy or two with us.  Remember what I said about my stepmother wanting to give me a Christian blessing?  Doesn't matter.  A blessing in any faith is still a blessing.  So that has become our motto, if you will.

Blessings on your journey.

So...with hope, with fear, with anxiety and exhilaration, we bring to you In Between.  Follow along on Facebook if you'd like.  We are working to build a dream and we would love to share with your the wonderful things we find.  Some might seem scary, but our items will transverse faiths.  From Kali to Buddha, from sugar skulls to spirit houses, from Our Lady of Guadalupe to our Anubis plushie - we are trying to create a more spiritual, more rounded place. The greatest achievement we can make is helping someone find some solace in their spiritual journey.

Pax.

breathing life into old dreams

So the husband and I have agreed to start another venture.  I'm hoping the best for this, and going to do what I can to make an old dream reality.  So many dreams I had, others took and ran with.  That's okay.  They can have those dreams.  I've changed a lot since then.  But I kept a few for myself, which is cool.

Just makes me a fabulous person - so fab that people wanna be me!  At least, really, that's the only explanation I can come up with.

I don't know, I've never really planned out things.  Life comes to me at an adventure, and I'm very fortunate in the aspect that perhaps I've seemed aimless, but I've had so many wonderful adventures.  And now we're on a venture that I'm trying to get everyone on board with.  My self-titled adventure.

One of the best lessons I ever got was from an old boss of mine while I worked in retail.  I can't remember what we were talking about, but I know it was related to the store.  He just simply spoke these words:

"You have to buy into it."

That doesn't seem like a lot, but it is.  It's a whole lot.  Because failure and success doesn't necessarily mean doing good or doing bad, it means believing in what you're doing.  If you believe, you ride out the lows, scream madly and giggle on the highs, and if it pulls to a stop, you say flush-faced and eyes sparkling, "Man....what a ride."

It's been kinda fun.  I don't really answer to anyone.  My kids are at the fun age, which is homeroom and high school - to me, that was the most fun, extra curricular stuff.  My parents had a hard time being there - right now I can.  Not saying that having a child at this age is bad, I will raise a toast to you, but I don't envy the diaper-changing and car seats.  For those that have never experienced it, or have a deep affinity for constantly being around babies, it's kind of an awesome job.  But anyone that knows me also knows that this is the time that I've been waiting for.  Being able to really watch my little birds take flight.

Volunteering as a parent isn't an easy job.  Last Friday was the first football game at my eldest's high school. Friday Night Lights.  But when you've got a kid in the band, TRUST ME, it's all about the band.

I got there about 3:30, because at home games, they say that the kids don't really have time to go home, eat, come back, warm up, and hit the field.  At least, that's how it was for this first one.  So I show up early to help fee 315 kids.

One of the moms tells me, "When you're a Band mom, you don't have a kid in the band.  The band becomes your kids.  You have 315 kids."  Can't say that's not true.

I don't think I've sweat so much since I stopped going to the gym (which means, really, this could be a good thing).  We didn't get home until about 10:30.  I helped feed kids, chaperone kids, move instruments, RUN instruments, give potty breaks (that's a lot of potty breaks, I tell you), act as a bouncer, etc.  There's a LOT to be done.  But it's amazing.  It's wonderful.  And the parents who can take that kind of time to volunteer, that's totally frackin' awesome.  Because it's not just mommies, it's daddies too. Building, fabricating, moving instruments, feeding and herding.  Sometimes altering and mending.  And my daughter's daddy is really cool, because he's got a CDL with a commercial endorsement, which means he's a daddy that can drive the 16 wheelers.

So, this year is going to be full of pictures (which means, if you get to know me, you might see them on facebook) and busy as all heck.  Being home to do it all too is going to be awesome.

(And by the way.....we won 47-7.....it was a great first game, for the band AND for the football team.)

lifestyles, supervising and casual sex...

...uality.

(Perv...it wasn't what you were thinking.)

I think it's great that so many 'new friends' that I make can sit around and casually joke about sex.

From the prim and proper days of being flogged in town square for a woman showing her ankles, it's UNBELIEVABLE how far we've come from the Puritan basis of that our country was founded on.

That being said, today I've had a hell of a time sitting around the hotel pool and joking with the cohorts in training with me about sexuality.

I have always been thought of as 'one of the guys' in my youth, and as I get older, I realize that people expect me to be some sort of upstanding citizen, a matriarch of political correctness.

PPPfffftttt.....HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!

No, seriously.

The outer shell gets older, the body gets more frail, but a lot of times I check, I really don't see that I've 'matured' from my high school years. That's probably not saying a lot for some of the 'kids' that were my age - but I my fits of irresponsibility were few and far between. I'm not saying that I didn't do some of the empty-headed bullshit, but I just did less than the norm, I think. While people around me were only focused on partying, or getting knocked up and partying, I was actually thinking of marriage and career-building. I was thinking about family and home. Now how much credit I could get, what fast car I could drive, or how many varieties of STDs I could pick up.

Somehow, somewhere, I think that I they got over it and I got bypassed.

I can't help it, I think I'm a kid at heart. "Cleverly disguised as a responsible adult." People worry about their financial brokers, their house payments and their retirement. My thoughts? I could be hit by a truck tomorrow and if all of my focuses were strictly on getting ahead or what other people thought of me, then I'd have a dull and boring life.

I'm moving into a management position where I'll have the responsibility of supervising perhaps 300-400 people. Does this concern me? A little. But imagine their surprise, or at least the surprise of some of those that I used to work for or that I'm training with now, when they learn that in my life, I've apprenticed in pottery, tattooing, piercing, have done some college, or that I did in-home parties selling dildoes. And that's just among spending a lot of time being a housewife.

People worry so much about stuff. Or how they look in the eyes of others. Or how they can get ahead enough to look down their noses at those they want to feel superior over. It just makes me think of my brother's words of wisdom:

"Life's too short to use cheap toilet paper."

Quirky? Yes. Wise? Undoubtedly. I can't say that there aren't a lot of questionable behaviors that I haven't seen, and there's several that I don't agree with. You want to have multiple marriages and weird sex, that's your business? Do it behind closed doors, don't let it effect the kids. But bring in animals and children, and answer to the barrel of my shotgun, you sick bastard.

(Did I mention I'm opinionated?)

Regardless, I'm kind of a live-and-let-live gal. But explain something to me if you can.

To me, there are a lot of shallow individuals who would pretend to live ethically with people and the enviroment. They advocate recycling, but they buy costume jewelry which is put together in chinese sweat-shops. They want organic foods, but they buy products which are animal-tested. They scream for animal rights and accost little old ladies in minks, but you never see them jump biker gangs which are clad in all-leather clothes. They buy organic milk, but they wear perfume with strange synthesized chemicals in it. They get net bags instead of plastic ones at the store, yet they throw away an old pair of rubber shoes.

Something's gotta give, kids.

I know that we're all of a dualist nature, because we have to live in this kind of paradox. The manufacturers and prices that we pay for things will ultimately win out over quality and sustainability....

...until we demand the change.

But until then, think about the things you're doing. Sending checks to Greenpeace is going to enable some zealot to fly to brazil and chain himself to a tree. Fat good that's going to do. Instead of just throwing money at something in the hopes that things will get better or change or go away, how about take some time and effort to read and maybe write? Write companies, write congress, or better yet, hell - go to school to get a job which enables you to make a difference. Become a political activist who's educated or join up with a company that really believes in sustainability or enviromental issues. It's gotta start somewhere, and instead of the whole bouncing back and forth, what can you do that makes a difference?

And if you have to bounce back and forth.... here's a though:

If they don't recycle in your area....if you can't afford organic foods. If you can't send billions of dollars to the relief efforts for natural disasters. If you can't chain yourself to a tree in brazil.

If you can't do any of these things...do this.

Just be nice. Be nice to everyone. Do random acts of kindness. Go the distance for someone you might not even know, because you choose to be good and selfless. Pay it forward.

And who knows? Maybe it will become contagious.