Happy Hol-I'm-in-a-daze

I know I've been sporadic posting this month. A lot of things in life have been clamoring for my attention, tugging my heartstrings and have caused my racing brain to go into overdrive this December. Life has been throwing me curve balls as of late, and from saying so long, but not goodbye, to my dear friend P who moved to the right coast - to planning what will likely be one of my hardest so longs to-date, I've truthfully been at a loss for words when trying to explain my life.

Per usual, I turned to music to ease my soul just a little bit, and once again the universe had a funny way of giving me a nudge (my friend CW would call it a wink - sidebar, if you want a very interesting read check it out). Typically when I get ready for work my routine is the same... drag my feet as I get ready whilst listening to music a la VH1 or MTV on in the background (yes, those channels still play some music). Anyway, on one particular morning when I was in a full on Debbie Downer, woe is me, what will I do mood - the latest song, "Strip Me" from Natasha Bedingfield came on. I'm fully aware that she is a pop princess, and that this song will likely grace the KISS FM top 20 lists for some time, but the one verse that struck and well stuck with me goes:

"If you strip me, strip it all away, if you strip me...what would you find? If you strip me, strip it all away... I'll be alright. Take what you want, steal my pride, build me up or cut me down to size. Shut me out, but I'll just scream...I'm only one voice in a million, but you ain't taking that from me."   

If you're wondering why, well, spoiler alert - I'm a little bit of a control freak, and when my BFF moves back home in the new year I freaked out because for the first time in forever, I'd be alone. Now, I know I'm not alone - I'm thankful and lucky enough to know I have a solid group of friends who really have become my family here. However, that doesn't mean that it's not scary to think that my anchor, my rock, won't be a car ride away. Anyway, when I heard this song... I kind of took the verse/refrain that I wrote above as my mantra for the new year. I realized that this is my life, and no one else or nothing else can define my life but me.

So as 2010 rapidly draws to an end, I'm going to remind myself of my new mantra and will promise myself to remember that as my great TV friend Carrie Bradshaw said, "After all, things change, so do cities, people come into your life and they go. But it's comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart... and if you're very lucky, a plane ride away."

Save Yourself From the Monsters

So once again, I can't make this long because I'm at work... but I just read this fascinating article on one of my all time favorite websites, The Awl, that looks at the modern day heroine, and juxtaposes the battles of feminism and saving yourself against movie monsters. If you have the time, I definitely urge you to give it a read.

The part that really hit me and literally gave me shivers, are the last four paragraphs (pasted below for you to read), particularly the last one that I've bolded.

I have a couple more posts I want to get in before the holidays, but until then... happy reading!

"It's going to be hard. That's the thing: It's always going to be hard. It doesn't end with you beating the creature, getting clear; there's always a goddamn sequel. It ends with the monsters pouring through the door or the Hellmouth or the air ducts; it ends, sometimes, with you broke and unloved in a movie theater, clinging to the story because it's all you have. It ends with you being disliked, still, being watched, still. Because you're anomalous: always pathologized, always strange and frightening. Because as far as a lot of people are concerned, you're not the heroine of the piece. You're the monster.

So keep going. There's no show without the monster, after all. When I look back through these papers, all these institutional perspectives on who I was, I don't like the girl they're talking about. I wish she could have been someone else. But I see that there was something in her that, no matter how many times it was framed as a failing—her reported sensitivity to injustices done to others; she cared. Considerable and conscious compensatory fantasies; she wanted to survive, she said she was going to go to New York and become a writer. Her aggressive and unusual verbal behavior; she spoke in her own voice—never got cured. What I see is that she survived.

There's one version of the story that goes: There is someone out there. Someone good and wise and kind. And when you are in danger, when you need him most, he will always come to save you. It's a good story. But there's another story, too, that I think is important.

Because: What if no one is coming to save you? Sometimes, nobody is coming. And who didn't come to save you, and when? What happened, on the day that you were not saved? That was the day that you saved yourself. "

Whirlwind

Wind
Wrap your arms around me
Intertwine our fingers and whatever you do, don't let me go
Nothing holds me up and
Dropping head first to the pavement below, I scream.
The wind cuts through me like a knife, carrying my hollow body above the trees.
Mind frozen with fear, I turn my neck to look at you and you're gone.
The wind shrieks and howls, mocking me, and proceeds to tease me...sweeping me higher then lower until all I long for is the feel of solid ground.