The one in which she pees her pants. Really.

Our new gazebo thingy + patio furniture + three dogs

My lot in life seems to be humility.  For example, ask me how I know this:  If you have to pee, and then you pass out, you will pee on yourself while you are passed out.  

A couple of weeks ago, I was getting some tests done.  I meditated that morning, so I felt uber zen.  Even when I set in the blood taker chair,  I thought, "This is where I am.  I want to be present for it."  So, I went into the feeling of slight anxiety I had, and as usual, that made it go away.  Might as well look at the needle, I thought, if I'm really going to be present.  

Then I felt tingly.  The last thing I remember is this phebotomist lady (think Aunt Jemima) ordering me, "you better not pass out, because I'm not picking me up off the floor."  

I left the lab that day, my own personal walk of shame, with a phlemobomist coat wrapped around my waste and a look from several people in the waiting room that said, "Was that the only chair?"

Ah, a day in the life.

In other news, today I went to get a brain MRI.  It was my first needle since you know what.  Same building.  I got through the no contrast part fine, easy peasy.  Before they even touched the needle to my arm for the freaky injection of metal dye, I knew the game was over and I was on my way out.  I think my mind made me do it; it's like becoming Miss Pee Pants gave me a phobia, so now I'll pass out regardless!  Anyways, they told me to come back later and take some of their chewable xanax and that I should be fine.  

We're both super excited about nerdy stuff like our patio furniture and gazebo thing.  The creek comes with an army of mosquitos.  Now, we have our own little plan, muah ha ha.

Oh, yesterday my cat jumped up and knocked down my cup of tea onto my computer.  So, I got a new one.  Sad to lose my old computer, but I knew it's days were numbered anyways.  I'm really loving my new Mac-- I got the "green" one, because well, I haven't set up my recycling.  So, now when my hip, liberal environmentalist (as I proclaim to be, except for hip) neighbors notice I never take my recycle bin out to the curb, I can flash them my super green macbook.  

The one in which she admits why she hasn't been writing.

Lake Cliff Park + nice day

I might erase this.

I haven't been writing, because I've been slightly freaked, medically speaking. Or something like that.

I haven't been avoiding writing for lack of peace...If this juxtaposition of being slightly freaked + the following can makes sense together, I'm actually MORE peaceful. More accurately, the place I'm in is best described as more "input" than "output." It's a place I've always gone where I need to center: Inside, spirit, nature. Historically, writing is a big piece of that, but I've been finding more of myself in emptiness, sitting than expressing or "thinking through."

I 've been reading a lot of Eckhart and having long meditation mornings. I've been trying to do my own little things like sit outside, go to bed whenever I feel sleepy, shut myself in my room when I feel depleted a all. Sometimes that's 6:30, but to paraphrase Byron Katie: This is exactly what is supposed to be...how do I know? Because it is what IS.

I'm sleeping sooo much, I'm exercising, I'm respecting my body and what I put into it, I've placed huge boundaries at work that were much needed. It's hard to do this when your work feels spiritual and gives back so much, but has to be done.

The one in which she ponders sacrilege.

miniature sun-room + Riley's hideout      

our 'vintage'  O'Keefe + Merrit stove  

house + side yard  

living room before we lived here* + my design delimma

The fireplace is huge.  No, huge.  I love it.  I hate, hate, hate the brass.  I also don't like that it has red brick on the bottom + white brick on the top.  Last, it has been stained messily.  So far, my research + time/money availabilities tell me that the best course of action is to paint the whole thing white for now.  And, I've got a cream for the walls.  Inspiration found here.  Thank-you, thisyounghouse.com!  Apparently, I can paint that brass door thingy?

So? Best case scenario?  Or, sacrilege?

*This photo is from when we looked at the place, 

so that's not our stuff. We would have liked 

to have that chair in the corner, though.  

pieces + light

blue heron + ghettoasis

I'm pretty sure the heron is out of focus, but this is on our way out of our 'hood.  Note contrast of waterfall/nature with trash & gang graffiti reflection.  That's why we love it here!  

Seriously, we love it here.  Today, we were at the gym (I know, two times now.), and again, I just realized how I love being in this little urban community.  Five or ten minutes from downtown but still with all this nature.  I can overlook the occasional tire, shopping cart (or phone booth, as we now have it) in the creek.  I like the paradox of it.  

Reppin' for the ghettoasis, 

 

.

bog of eternal stench + b's dimples

(B + dimple + The question was: Is your wife the #1 or #2 most beautiful and intelligent human you have ever met or laid eyes on?  Either that or "in a minute." )

On the best sleep ever & the philosophy of dogs: I slept fabulously warm and peaceful last night.  Moses very much wanted to stay up to watch the Inaugural balls on cnn.com, so I let him sleep with us; usually, he's kenneled at night, as he's not to be trusted.  All of our animals slept with us last night.  It is was very warm. 

Moses has somehow beat Preston in cuddly-naturedness; however, Preston remains my favorite to sit with, to sleep by as far as the animals go.  He feels more like a friend.  

Is there something different about large dogs?  We love all of our pets very much, but to us, Preston seems like a person.  The little dogs seem like wonderful little dogs.  In spite of this difference in "humanness," or maybe because of it, I have to say that the little dogs do seem much more 'present."  Especially Sam.  Sam is always in the moment.   This is not so with Preston, in whose face I swear I can see worry, eager anticipation, and cognition.  Sometimes premeditation.  Read: When they leave, I will turn over the trash can. But not until they leave.

Intriguing + even paradoxical how that added sense of humanity seems to steal from presence; or is it that at higher levels of consciousness, we must choose our presence?  Does the element of conscious choice make it better, deeper, richer? 

On the horrific aromas of youknowwhat: Speaking of deeper: The down side of his cuddly nature is that Moses frequently smells like ####.  We've been wondering, what would make something so small evoke such horrific aromas out of both ends? 

Intrigued, B went all Inspector Gadget & began scoping out his backyard manners.  And before I tell you this, just don't judge me.  I mean, we've been busy.  We have a ton of er, leaves that we have never ever raked, piling (exponentially) against the back fence.  

Leaf pile?  Turns out, not just leaves.   To Moses, a gold mine.  If gold is ####.*  

Oh. My. God.

On the splendor of morning & the travails of a failed perfectionist:   On a brighter note, I'm writing this in the morning which means I'm in good spirits.  Morning is a wonderful time of day for me; it is when I feel most peaceful and centered.  I'm hoping to get back to waking up (and getting up) at 4:30 so that I can have as much morning as possible before I'm off to the light of day.

Today, I actually rolled out of bed at 5-ish, slightly lethargic from staying up to watch Inaugural stuff.  (Fighting urge to go to DC + hand out Red Bulls to the Obamas.)  

As usual, B and I did a little meditating and reading.  We read a passage from Eckhart Tolle about ego.  This was good for me, because my attitude about work has been rather anxious.  I don't believe it has anything to do with my work as much as me being VERY unbalanced toward work.  I've been trying to balance, and in many important ways I have. It can be extremely difficult for me to keep work in perspective; it is my Achille's heel, partly because of the love of what I do making it so easy for what I do to become ALL I do or think about.

When it comes to flow-inducing states such as this (work, school), my perfectionist side kicks into full, all-or-nothing gear.  It is difficult for me to say, "It's fine like this."  And then leave it.  Leave it.  Step away.  Do something else.  Live your life.  I find this counter-intuitive to the degree that when I'm working on it, I tend to have escape fantasies of being a stay at home dog-mom.  They tell me this isn't  a real job.  

*Flash-back to very unfortunate face lick.