Landing on a Latte

Hello Again Everyone!

I am well, and feeling 100% better after a week of sickness and recovery. I must say - I am rarely ill- the last time I was that sick was in the bout of stress and insanity planning the Annual Women in Business conference in Muscat, Oman last year! I cant imagine that I was indeed stressed recently and that it caused the flu. I have been spending a lot of time at the gym and moving around much much much! My little niece was sick and its pathetic to think that I caught it from a 3 month old. Besides all that I am healthy and ready to attack my writing once again.

I finished reading a million little pieces. I am surprised I got to the end of it. I am a huge procrastinator and regardless of the fact that details in this book were fabricated- I took it to the end and really enjoyed it. I don't read much fiction, but I am still going to read the sequel, My Friend Leonard.

I am also still having ( a crisis of faith), and reading, Sam Harris - The End of Faith.

I wont list all the rest of the books I'm reading because frankly, who really cares? (only I care.)

Here is what is on the forefront of my observations today.

A few hours ago, as I sat in my new fave coffee place to write and contemplate, and after making my way through crowds of green, parade goers, children, strollers, dogs and drunkenness, I was beginning to think the world was good and kind- until this new barista started yelling and complaining about everyone who walked in the door to only use the restroom. So she angrily hung a sign on the door that read "NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS".

Come on lady. People have been drinking green beer since 6 am this morning. Give a lad a break :p

A man walks in and heads straight for the restroom- she tells him he cant use it unless he buys coffee. He says he will- she says "well then the line would start HERE sir. Not over there near the restroom. There is no restroom without purchase." He walked out angrily shouting "GOOD GOD!" I had to laugh.

The whole scenario caused a stir for little green Midwesterners. Until I realize that not everyone in this place is from here. Across from me was an true redheaded Irish girl, and a Greek catholic that started having conversation about the angry drunk man. She starts telling him how surprised she is about how festive Americans are for St Patty's day celebrations. How wonderful the parade was. She was also surprised to see that Americans are a lot more sober that the Irish on St. Patrick's Day. Of course lady.

She loves Kansas City and is visiting America to "take a walk with God and Jesus" - and trying to find herself on this journey. She is with IHOP - International House of Prayer. I'm seeing these people more and more. They seem to have this need to talk about their religion with every single person they talk to and frankly - Its a little annoying and self righteous. Yesterday I had a tour of the Kansas City Art Incubator and met a man holding a rat , as if it were his puppy, and he was also with IHOP. He is growing dreadlocks and is a struggling artist. He was from Minnesota. Are they in town? It sounds like a band tour or something.- Not religion. I think he thinks he must fit the mold. This wave of young cool people who are into "God" like it is fashion and cool to have a "relationship with Jesus" Is this real? Or is it just a fat community that thrives on the emotion of wanting to belong to something and attaching God and religion to it? It doesn't sit well with me.

This girl had a thick Irish accent. I realized it wasn't just an American Fad, but its all over. Something tells me this is new, young and hip- and that older generations didn't experience this brand of religion. Did young America take it to Europe? How and why do they feel it is their duty to "spread the gospel?"

The girl left and said to the old catholic man "God Bless."

So same to you.
More to come later.
I promise!

Love.

No Need to Argue

Its been a while. I have been getting requests for a new post. I'll admit, it takes a lot out of me to get going on a blog post..but what I forget to realize is that once you get going with writing, it all flows.

I see writing like giving. It takes time,some hesitation, and trust when you want to give. Even when the writing is technical or objective; You are giving a part of yourself; your mind and thoughts. Its a little something I read about in a book called Bird by Bird by Anne Lammott

I promised a post about the happenings of the past year for the 20 somethings. Since then, I updated a brief description about the goals of this blog on my 20SB page. You can also read the archives to find out what all that was like.

Life in Kansas City as a new Kitty owner, apartment renter, adventure seeker, and as usual, procrastinator, has been fruitful. The romance of the snow falling, coffee brewing and candle burning got me in that craved seasonal mood this morning. Today was one of those days I felt in love... with myself.

Time seems to pass so fast that its so hard to stop for just a second and take in the good in life. I had a conversation with a good friend about optimism vs. pessimism. More often than not pessimists will tell you that you are delusional in your optimism. They are the realists and we are just annoying.
No one ever denied that life is hard. Yes, we can all agree that even when life does get us down, there is no use in complaining about it and getting depressed. (although I must admit, a small sick part of me sometimes takes pleasure in complaining about the changes,adaptations and sacrifices I have had to make over the past year, and how many hurdles I have had to jump. ) Indeed, its all part of the learning process. See? I just go back right to seeing the good in it all.

Some people love drama. They love to sit and dwell over all the shit they have been through. They thrive on over dramatic displays of emotion. This is often emotionally draining for the people that have to listen to you! Take note that it is important and considerate to think of those around you. We have lives that are happening RIGHT NOW. If we continue to live in our past, will we ever get to our future? Tomorrow is gone forever. The best you can do is live the now and if what you are doing right now is going to lead you to a better tomorrow- then good for you. If not- please reconsider evaluating your goals in life, cuz I don't want to have to hear about every single move you made during the tumultuous time in your life. If you can offer me some sort of lesson, reflection, or bottom line- I would be glad to listen . Otherwise- shut up and move on.

On the flip, I also think there should be more room in life for compassion and affection.

Last week, I shocked myself by a simple act of kindness. For any of you who live in KC, you all know about Jerry on the Plaza. He is a panhandler who sits on busy street corners and yells " Im tryna raise a down payment on a cheeseburger" - while holding out a paper cup in your face as you pass by. Tourists love this because they think its a funny line. For those of us who have been here long enough, we all know that Jerry is not homeless. As a matter of fact, he has a nice house. He often frequents my favorite coffee shop and talks really loudly about how much he has made so far that day etc. I have seen him conversing with my barista friends and have seen a human side to him that I never expected to come out in the past 4 years. I pass by him with out ever giving him a cent. ( At times he is rude and need I say-- annoying? ) I was driving and as I hit the stop light, there was Jerry on the corner sitting on his crate. I wasn't even thinking when I found myself opening my window making chat with Jerry. He recognized me from the coffee shop and I corrected him on my name. I told him I didn't have much. He said anything would do. Searching for change in my car- I couldn't find anything in time to catch the light. Soon after my attempt, He grabbed my hand and kissed it "God Bless" . I drove away in complete awe as to what the hell had gotten into me. I mean- I really despise that guy! Maybe I was craving human contact, maybe I wanted him to know that I knew his name. Maybe I was just in a good mood and felt like being friendly. I don't know what it was, but all I know is that I drove away with a weird smile on my face. I guess its a sense of community that was created at that moment. I still do believe he is a little mentally ill... Yes, that must have been it. Sympathy.

Next time you see Jerry out on the corner, try talking to him and listen to all the crazy that comes out of his mouth. Hey- he is a human being too. :p

Compassion is officially the word of the season. I believe that even in the most evil or plastic of people you meet they do have a heart. I was watching the Grinch on ABC , and laughed out loud at the part when the Grinch realizes he has a heart that can BEAT- and when it does he screams in pain. :p

To have passion means to suffer. Passion comes from the Latin word Passio which means to suffer ... Derive from that what you wish. There is a lot of meaning in that word. To endure... maybe this is why Mel Gibson titled the movie "The Passion of the Christ" this way?

If you are passionate, you are bound to suffer. And if you suffer you will inevitably grow.

So, be human and give. grow. be compassionate and passionate. Who knows the outcome anyway?

The Bastard of Istanbul

I recently read this passage that I liked and thought was superbly written. I cant fully grasp its impact until I write it down. Maybe then I can experience its brilliance once more.


Pg. 72 , from the Novel The Bastard of Istanbul by Elif Shafak

Ten Years ago Auntie Zeliha had opened up a tatoo parlor, where she had started to develop a collection of original designs. In addition to the classics of the art-crimson roses, iridescent butterflies,hearts pumped with love- and the usual compilation of hairy insects, fierce wolves, and giant spiders. She had introduced her own designs inspired by one basic principle: contradiction. There were faces half masculine half feminine, bodies half animal half human, treese half blossomed , half dry... However, her designs were not popular. The customers wanted to make a statement through their tatoos.not to add another ambiguity to their already uncertain lives. their tatoos had to express a simple emotion. not an abstract thought. Learning her lesson well, Zeliha had then launched a new series, a compound collection of images, which she entitled " the management of abiding heartache."

Every tattoo in this special collection was designed to address one person only: the ex- love. the dumped and the despondent, the hurt and the irate brought a picture of the ex love they had wanted to banish from their lives forever but somehow could not stop loving. Auntie Zeliha then studied the picture and ransacked her brain until she found which particular animal that person resembled. The rest was relatively easy.She would draw that animal and then tattoo the design on the desolate customers body. The whole practice adhered to the ancient shamanistic practice of simultaneouly internalizing and externalizing ones totems. To strengthen vis-a`-vis your antagonistic you had to accept, welcome, and then transform it. The ex love was interiorized - injected into the body and yet at the same time exteriorized- left outside the skin. Once the x lover was located in this threshold between inside and outside, and deftly transformed into an animal, the power structure between the dumped and the dumper changed. Now the tatooed lover felt superior , as if the key to the ex lovers soul was in his or her hands. as soon as this stage was reached, the ex love lost his or her appeal.those suffering from abiding heartache could finally let go of their obsession, for love loves power. That is why we can suicidally fall in love with others but can rarely reciprocate the love of those suicidally in love with us.