Currently.....

Currently reading:

Goddesses in Everywoman: a new psychology of women by Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D. Found it in Myopic Books, a used bookstore in Wicker Park. Claims to combine Jungian archetypes with a feminist model, using Greek mythology to illustrate such. Intriguing concepts, and for $6.50 to boot. Hey, I'll give just about anything a chance if I'm compared to a goddess. Remember that.

Currently listening to:

Awake: the Best of Live by Live. I love this band. Their second release, Throwing Copper, was in constant rotation during my college years. Very masculine sound that neither crosses the line into misogyny nor indulges in cloying sentiment. That, and I totally crush on their drummer. I'm cheap like that, it's true.

Currently watching:

Battlestar Galactica on scifi.com While a friend & I concur that consistency is not really there, BSG is still one of the best-written dramas on TV right now. Good dialogue, sweeping plot twists, strong female characters, and sci-fi nerdiness equals enthralled me.

Currently focusing on:

Relaxing. I'm not good at that. I've been working so hard on working so hard that really taking time out to read for pleasure, to listening to music I like, and to watch a TV show for kicks actually takes focus and effort. I'm in a strange position where I have to work on relaxing.

And isn't the point of relaxing to not be working?

-C.

Blatant Solicitation # ?

As I was heading to my opera this past Wednesday afternoon (Puccini's MADAME BUTTERFLY, which has some lovely arias but not so interesting characters and little for the singers to do acting-wise but that is a whole other blog entry entirely), I noticed that Brent Books (at 309 W Washington Street ) is going out of business (see A Year in Pictures blog for visual reference). It made me really sad, because I would always stop by on my way to my opera because I love books and I love indies and the prices and selections were good. The place had charm and books-what wasn't to love? And now, they are going out of business. Another indie bites it.

Hey, I do like the big "B" bookstores as much as the next Gentle Reader, and I buy about half of my pet supplies cheaply at the ginormous national pet supply chains that will remain herein nameless, and I work for the green apron company that has stores on every other block and is known for decimating their indie-coffee competition, so I suppose that I can't really rail too hard against the homogenization of American business as I contribute enough to their well-being myself, but whenever a non-big business goes belly-up the part of my soul that loves variety and hates rote just dies a little. A lot of little businesses that I've loved have gone belly-up in my time (Poor Richard's, Cafe Boost, Stone Lion Bookstore, just off the top of my head), so that's a lot of little pieces of my soul. That adds up, for sure.

So I'm thinking this week of heading over to Women & Children First (indie & feminist bookstore, www.womenandchildrenfirst.com), and to A Taste of Heaven cafe and bakery, both in Andersonville. Pause Coffee near the Berwyn station (don't tell my SB boss!). That little Indian/Pakistani place down the street whose name I don't recall but has fantastic & cheap dal makhani and is definitely NOT a chain. Maybe you could join me? Maybe, just in spirit, to an indie place in your neck o' the woods? If you're spending the bucks anyway, why not spent it local? Keep it in the 'hood, so to speak. Think of it this way-you could be helping the little business survive, contribute to your local economy, keeping the rich from just getting richer simply by virtue of being rich, AND be saving my soul. God knows, it needs it.

-C.

To the Broken Helmet Bike Guy...

...on the corner of Dearborn and Madison, at around 5:30 p.m. tonight. I saw that car hit your bike, and I saw your head hit the road. Did you hear that woman screaming? That wasn't me; I think it was the CTA worker who ran to you to make sure you were okay. I didn't occur to me to scream, as everything happened so fast that by the time I realized that a car had hit you, that your head had hit concrete, and that there was a woman screaming because of all of that, I also saw that you were getting up, that you were nodding to your friend that you were okay, and that your helmet was in bits and pieces across the intersection. Tires were already crunching those remnants of helmet by the time everything registered, and now it is that sound that's ringing in my ears as I write this.

I'm glad that you are okay. I'm glad that you were wearing a helmet. I'm glad that you were biking with a friend, and I think that he took down that car's plate number-it sounded like he got at least part of it. I hope you get how lucky you are. And I hope this stops you from veering in and out of busy traffic on your bike. Because you may be nimble and you may be quick but jumping over that particular candlestick over and over and over again only ends up burning your ass. And sometimes a helmet isn't enough. Do you get that now? Does everyone who saw you get that?

Does everyone who is reading this get that? Please say yes.

-C.

Another List

10 things that I love

1. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee
2. The sound of a purring cat
3. Baked potatoes
4. Post-It Notes
5. Drawing blood (on animals only; humans are just icky, no offense)
6. Libraries
7. The scent of aftershave
8. Purses & handbags (you don't have to try them on)
9. Stimulating conversation
10. A good night's sleep.

-C.

Two Weeks Here

A friend of mine (and fellow blogger) recently wrote a blog entitled "Two Weeks". The gist was just how much can happen in so short a period of time. Very eloquent, T.

Two weeks ago I had a gnawing feeling in my gut. It's the same gnawing feeling that has been rumbling in my belly for a few years. I was trying to figure out how to continue life as it had been, with the gnawing sensation in my belly, that I could subdue occasionally, but that never really went away, that I had come to recognize as the physical manifestation of my anxiety. The source of that anxiety was constant and unmoving, and I couldn't seem to thicken my skin or develop enough detachment to rid myself of the gnawing feeling. I realized, in a moment two short weeks ago, when the rumbling moved from my belly and into my head, flowing out of my twisted face in the form of uncontrollable tears, that the only thing that I could really change was my proximity to the source of this anxiety. And so I made a decision to move forward.

The decision itself defies common sense. I get that. But I also know that the knot in my belly is gone, that every morning since the making of that decision I've woken up easily, without having to smack the snooze button a dozen times, dreading being pulled from my slumber. (Well, there was that Sunday morning last week, but I blame the wine and fondue-fest of the night before. :-) My body and heart are telling me that this is the right choice, and for once I'm telling my brain to step aside and listen to them. You know that cliche, "The weight of the world being lifted from your shoulders"? It is truth. I feel lighter and breathe easier, and so I stand by my illogical choice.

I welcomed another furry beast into my home. It had been over 2 years since I said good-bye to my Tully, and I was finally ready to find another kitty to love and care for. Three is the right number of cats for me; the three that I had in my home (Gracie, Sam, Tully) 7 years ago, when I started my journey in vet medicine, are gone now. Two of them were under the age of 6 when they died. I grieve for their departure, but weep in gratitude for all they taught me. About the fragility of life and how to live in every moment. About the simplicity and absolute necessity of joy. About the capacity that I have in my heart, that I can channel through my mind and through my hands. I make a difference in my work because of their continued presence in my soul, and as I sit here laughing over my new cat Fido's antics I am happy and oh so grateful that grief does not have to mean an end to joy. Not if you don't let it.

There are other developments. For some of us, things have gone back to normal. Sadly, normal, in these circumstances, does not equate good. I don't know what actions to take, and am wondering if maybe there is no action to take. What I can say for sure is my role in things will not be as it has been in the past. For my own sake, I will no longer sit idly by while the elephants in the room trample the furniture and suffocate me with their sheer numbers. I can find freedom from anxiety. I can invite joy into my home. And I can speak the truth of things. I will not be afraid of honesty, however painful it may be. Pain only hurts; duplicity destroys from within. I'll survive the pain of truth to see it prevail. Some of you will be on board with that.

And some of you won't be, and more's the pity for you.

-C.

The Simplest Prayer

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Such a simple concept. Really, really tough to follow. Really tough.

What to Do with Fifty Bucks?

Remember that question from just before Christmas? Should I donate it to charity? Splurge in something for myself? Spread more good karma? I did all three at The Anti-Cruelty Society of Chicago this weekend, and his name is Fido:




(Actually, the adoption fee is $55, but my found-wallet reward did cover the bulk of that! www.anticruelty.org)

Two New Projects

I've got two new documentary-style projects in the works, both of them in blog-format. The first is entitled "A Year in Pictures". For every day of 2009, I will be posting a digital photograph. It is based on a project that I read about a while back, where a woman took a picture every single day (on an old-school 35 mm, no less). She found that, amidst the pictures of her feet and other banality, that she had captured very special moments that she would not have otherwise. Now that I have a digital camera and am in the habit of blogging regularly, I decided to create a similar project for myself. This documenting of the year will also carry particular resonance with me, for reasons that some of you are aware of and that will become public soon enough.

The second is a journal entitled "The CTA Diaries". I have wanted to explore for myself the relationship between rider and transit in Chicago as it has fascinated me since before I even moved here. Hey, the "El" is legend outside these borders, you know? This particular project, though, is on hold for a bit, as I'm still deciding on the slant, and on whether the blog will be public (as I don't think I am comfortable with strangers knowing my transit-riding schedule, just in case).

Anyway, hit the links to your right if you are curious, and leave comments at will. Thanks!

-C.

Resolution

It is Thursday morning, January 1, 2009. The dawn of a new year. I'm sitting at my laptop, which is on top of my plywood makeshift desk, in my dining room that is really more of an office, sipping Starbucks Christmas Blend coffee out of a mug that boasts a panoramic picture of the Chicago skyline. It is way early, and I'm hitting both jobs today. The Starbucks gig promises to be a bit on the hellish side, what with a full 8 hours (time & a half with the holiday, but murder on my poor back and knee) and the hockey game at Wrigley Field (please tell me that drunken Blackhawks fans behave better than drunken Cubs fans? Please?). But it's all good. It is all so very, very good.

Yesterday was the year's close, a time of reflection. Today is a new year's beginning, a time of resolution. And what is my resolution for 2009?

Simple. To enjoy it.

In looking back on the last several years, I can make lists of numerous accomplishments. I see where hard work and fortitude have served me well. I see areas of my life that need improvement, where I can endeavor to strike some balance, gain better perspective. But what I don't see a lot of is joy.

As a child, you are capable of experiencing joy in the virtually all things that surround you; much of the time that joy is brought right to your eyes and to your hands, and it is easy and carefree and without struggle. Things are different as an adult, as the necessities of living and demands of ambition make compromise necessary, and the randomness of the universe reveals to me every day that nothing, absolutely nothing, is promised us or owed us or offered with any kind of guarantee. As such, one never experiences the same kind of burden-free glee as an adult that they could as a child.

I realize now, though, that joy is like hope, in that it is a choice. You choose to feel the joy in your life just as you do to see the hope. In my efforts to improve, gain, maintain, I think I've missed out on a great deal of the joy that is being alive. You know, that whole breathing-not-being-dead thing I talked about yesterday. Well, today, on this first day of a new year, as I look forward to new challenges and to the necessity of change, I hereby resolve to choose, every single day, to enjoy the life that I have been so blessed to live.

And if a drunken Blackhawks fan pukes on my shoes today, hell, I've got a great story to tell in a bar or on this blog, right? That is the power of choice.

-C.