Guilt

I'm no poet, but when emotions are swirling through my mind and my head is crowded with thoughts, poetry provides an amazing release. I sit down and write a poem probably once or twice a year, but this was the first time that I'd ever shared any of my work.

Poetry allows a writer to express and explore raw feelings. No reasons. No stories. Pure emotion.

Our emotions are what unifies us as people. Regardless of their race, ethnicity, religion, sex, social status, sexual orientation, intelligence, education--everyone experiences love, happiness, passion, ecstasy, fear, nervousness, sorrow, pain and suffering. The words to describe these emotions, the causes that evoke them and the way a person deals with his/her emotions may differ from culture to culture and person to person, but everyone feels.


The holiday season always sends my emotions into over-drive, but as I grow older, the resentment, anger and sadness I am used to feeling time of year has given way to a much more powerful emotion, guilt.

My parents separated when I was just two-years-old. I have just one single memory of their brief time together. I was sitting at the top of our chocolate-brown carpeted steps, watching my parents through the wooden rungs of the banister, with my knees tucked into my chest and arms wrapped around my shins. I could hear yelling, the sound of glass breaking, and then I saw blood. Or, at least what I thought was blood. Turns out my father, in a fit of immaturity, had doused my mom with Heinz 57. 

After my parents divorced, I lived a dual life. My mother and father shared dual custody. I had two very, very, very different families. My mom's house was the type of house that children should grow up in. In her house, I was encouraged, disciplined, loved and cared for. I wouldn't say I was spoiled, but I sure never went hungry.

At my father's house my life couldn't have been more different. He remarried three times, twice to the same woman (who he apparently just recently divorced again). With his wives came step-siblings for me, and with their inevitable divorces I would once again become an only child. He introduced me to the dark-side of life--to motorcycle gangs, a plethora of drugs, over-doses, criminal life and jail. By twelve years old, there wasn't a drug I hadn't seen done, and by the time I was sixteen, there wasn't one I hadn't tried myself. He was too fucked up to see anything wrong with doing hard drugs with his pre-teen daughter. He was too fucked up to remember to buy groceries. He was too fucked up to keep his promises and too far gone to love me.

Throughout my childhood, I bounced back and forth between these two worlds. Sometimes I would get tired of being hurt, and I would swear-off my father, his home and lifestyle. I would stay with my mom and wait for him to call. He never called.

His parents, my grandparents, used every Thanksgiving as an excuse to force my father and I together. He would make empty promises that things would be better if I came back...he wouldn't talk down to me anymore...I could have a kitten...There would be no more fighting...no more drugs.

Every year, I believed him. And, every year I was let down. My anger, resentment and sadness grew until is consumed me. I hated him and everything that made me think of him, including the holidays.

Now, I find myself consumed by a new emotion, guilt. I am no longer angry at my father. I feel sorry for him. He is financially ruined and in poor physical and mental health thanks to the bad decisions he's made throughout his life. I haven't spoken to him in a couple of years now. It hurts to much. Hearing his distant and faded "junkie" voice repeat the same things over and over, makes me sick to my stomach. The last time I stepped foot in his house, I literally threw-up. The last time I spoke to him on the phone, he blamed me for our failed relationship. I guess he has to lie to himself to live with himself.

I feel bad that I'm not strong enough to look past the past. I feel guilty that I don't try to have a relationship with my father. I feel horrible that I know he won't live much longer and that doesn't make me want to reconnect with him. I feel selfish because of my need for self-preservation. I feel frigid because I'm not sure I have any love left for the man who calls me his daughter. All of these emotions combine together to create a guilty feeling that eats away at my soul.

PS - Thanks to all of you who left comments on my poem. Your insights and support inspired me to write this post. Writing helps me understand and cope with my thoughts, and hearing from all of you reminds me that I'm not alone in my experiences. Thank you!

Sometimes I wish I wore a suit of armor,
Shiny, metallic,
Impenetrable.
A suit of armor to protect me against the weight world,
To keep me from feeling.
To keep me from caring.
A suit of armor,
Cold, smooth,
Indescructible.

New Look

Priorities. Traveling and entertainment are the top two on my list. I spend a good portion of my disposable income on boozing, eating out and trips abroad. It's great. Except, when all your money is tied up in fun, there's none left over for new clothes. Besides, who wants to spend money on something boring like clothes? Even if I do "shop," I'd rather buy art. Or shoes. I do love shoes.

Why am I telling you this? Well, this weekend I went clothes shopping for the first time since February. This was no ordinary shopping, but EXTREME shopping. I was at the mall (actually two malls) for a total of eight hours this weekend. The first day, it took me two-and-a-half hours to make my first puirchase--a pair of black suede, slouchy boots for $35. Two hours later, I had bought a dress and a skinny belt. Four-and-a-half hours, three purchases and $75 spent. I seriously suck at shopping.

Does anyone else see some major similarities between malls and casinos? No natural light, over-stimulation, people mulling about with glazed looks, people spending money they don't have....

So back to my new boots. If you know me in "real" life, you know that I spend most of my time in sneakers. Super-cute, bold, colorful sneakers, but sneakers nonetheless. This whole boots, dresses and tights thing is new for me. It's kind of like playing dress up. Today, as I walked with my new boots through the three metro stations that I traverse on my daily commute, I felt like strutting. New shoes seem to have a direct impact on a girl's self-esteem--someone should do a study. My feminist side just died a little with that last statement.

My cat Papi seemed less thrilled with my new look. When I put my boots on this morning and stood up from the chair, he hopped back, his tail puffed and his eyes widened. He kept wanting to come closer to scope out my new attire, but when he got too close for comfort he would leap away dramatically with the hair on his tail standing on edge, like he had stuck his little paw in a light socket.

Why did I tell you this pointless story? I don't know, these boots are making me fiesty. I completely understand if you never read my blog again.

Random Dozen

Random Dozen:
If you play along, let me know so I can come see how you answered.

1.Candy corn: Your thoughts?
The brown bottoms are superior to the white bottoms.

2. Briefly, what was the first conversation you ever had with your spouse? (or best friend, if you're not married.) (Or someone significant, like your librarian.)
When Jack and I first met, I was 16 years old and at a party at my boyfriend-at-that-time's house. The "dreaded ex" as we'll call him, was proving to me that you could sit in your chair all night and never have to get up. We spent the night shouting orders for fresh beers and entertainment from our chair. When we tried it with Jack, he was totally on to our bullshit and giving orders right back. From then on, whenever Jack and I saw each other there was a lot of ball breaking going on. 

We have been dating for going on six years now, and we still joke and break balls just like we did back then.

3. Could you ever become a vegetarian?
I grew up "pescatarian," meaning the only "meat" I ate was seafood. I didn't enjoy a steak until I was 16 years old. I still rarely eat red meat, but when I do, I like it bloody!

4. Have you ever dressed up your pet in a costume?
No. No. NO! Though, in the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that my cat Papi sports a rhinestone studded collar and my cat Pie (aka Puss Cat) rocks a red studded one.

5. Name something about childhood that you miss (like Clark Bars, Tea berry Gum, Malibu Barbie, cracking fake eggs on people's heads with your fist and "It's the Great Pumpkin" airing only once a year).
What I miss most about my childhood is being able to spend my entire weekend playing--splashing in puddles, riding bikes and tromping through the woods has given way to running errands, cleaning the house and other boring adult things. Sigh.

6. Have you ever won a trophy? If not, what do you deserve a trophy for?
Pimp of the Year bitches! I have the trophy to prove it.

7. When do you think is the appropriate time to begin playing Christmas music each year?
After Thanksgiving--I find it really annoying that stores in my city already have Christmas displays up, and it's not even Halloween yet. I'm not just saying this because I'm Jewish...

8. What is your favorite board game?
Does Yahtzee count as a board game? Probably not since there's no board.

9. How do you feel about surprises (receiving, not giving)?
Being pleasantly surprised is nice, but I hate when someone says, "I have a surprise for you," and won't tell me what it is. Jack gets me like that all the time, because he knows it drives me nuts.

10. Is it easy for you to say "I'm sorry?"
Yes, but only if I'm actually sorry. No insincere apologies. When I'm right, I'm right. I won't apologize for that.

11. What is your favorite candle scent?
Lavender

12. October is traditionally "open house" time in public schools. If you had a literal open house in your home (like a reception) what light snacks would you serve visitors and what would you show them (as in art projects, graded papers) that would uniquely represent you?
I would serve Belgian beers, robust red wines and a sampling of my favorite fruits and cheeses. (I'm classy like that.) I would show the art I've collected during my travels--I only decorate my house in original art--and my rocks and gems collection. For music, I would play some deep, soulful house music--maybe my new(ish) Terry Thompson CD. 

PHOTOS from The Great Lantern Parade

....on my other blog. Go there!

The Great Halloween Lantern Parade

If you know me at all, then you know that anytime I find myself with some spare time on my hands, I find some new project to fill it up. In the spring and summer, I spend at least one Saturday a month leading canoe trips and cleaning aquariums at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center near Annapolis, MD. Throughout the year, I serve as chairperson for the Smithsonian Institution Women's Council, an employee advocacy group. For the second year in a row, I am spending my fall helping with The Great Halloween Lantern Parade.

Held every year for the past decade in Baltimore's Patterson Park, The Great Halloween Lantern Parade is a truly unique event. The parade itself features stilt walkers, candle-lit bamboo and paper-mâché lanterns, giant floats, drums, costumed performers, and more. The parade is open to anyone who wants to be a part of it, and it's totally bilingual--English and Spanish. This year the parade will take place on October 24.

Nana Projects, a local nonprofit that specializes in community oriented, cultural performances, holds at least a dozen free lantern making workshops for families in the months leading up to the parade, not to mention the new "lantini" party for adults. Martinis, bamboo, paper mâché and flames--what fun! They also offer stilt walking classes and have a parade school to share their expertise with other local artists and community organizers.

Last weekend, I spent five hours at the Lantern Parade Studio on Eastern Ave., creating a shawl-like throw for a stilt walker to wear. Molly Ross, Nana Projects director, gave me a five-gallon bucket of strips of white Tyvec, a big piece of lightweight netting and a few instructions to work with. I cut the netting into an oval shape and cut a hole in the middle. I proceeded to tie the strips of Tyvec around the bottom and middle edges to create a "shawl" with white fringe around the collar and bottom edges. The costume will be worn by one of the stilt walkers and will look amazing, no doubt. The white will glow as light from the lanterns splashes against it and the "fringe" will sway and flow with the stilt walkers every move.

On the day of the parade--October 24--I will be lighting lanterns, providing logistical info to participants and helping students from a local charter school carry their float along the 45-minute parade route. The best part...I get to wear a fun costume! I will be dressed in an all-white jumpsuit with a hand-made, light-up "pagoda hat" on my head. The hat--which is an almost-14-inch-tall bamboo structure wrapped with paper mâché--is designed to look like Patterson Park's well-known pagoda.

I am seriously considering taking the stilt walking classes next year. After taking four lessons in stilt walking, newbie stilt walkers are ready (apparently) to brave the 45-minute parade route, up and down the hills of Patterson Park. According to Annie Howe, Nana Projects artist and professional stilt walker, the newbies bring up the back of the parade line. Apparently they don't move fast.

Patterson Park Pagoda

What's on my mind...

President Obama won the Nobel Prize.  His receiving the award is quite obviously a political move on the part of our European friends, but that's OK. The move shows support for the president's ideas and confidence in his ability to make those ideas a reality. Everything comes down to politics...

On NPR this morning a critic of the current administration faulted the President for not having made a lot of headway in bringing peace to the Middle East. What an unfair statement. The man has only been in office for 8 months! There has been fighting in the Middle East for thousands of years....

Enough about politics....

I am ready for the long weekend. I'm not big on the idea of commemorating Columbus, but the day off work is much appreciated.

I refuse to buy grocery store tomatoes. I'd rather go without than eat those things.

I also refuse to fall victim to the mass hysteria surrounding swine flu.

My Google Reader has well over 200 unread posts. I'm sorry for not stopping by your blogs this week, but I have been very busy with work. I promise to catch up on each and every one of your posts this weekend. Pinky swear!

Ahh Paris! In just over six weeks, I will spending my days visiting museums, wandering the streets of Paris, picnicking by the Seine, relaxing in Parisian cafes....By night I will be enjoying fine fromage and pain fraîche, and vin, lots of vin. I need to find out about Parisian DJs and best spots for EDM....

My lavender plant is blooming....that means gin time! I make the most delicious drink called a gin fizz, with Bombay Sapphire and lavender-infused simple syrup.

Jack and I go through 12 ounces of whole coffee beans a week. At $10 - $12 a pop, we are talking about a $600 a year coffee habit.

Tomorrow I am going to start my own little crash, refresher course in Spanish. I've been meaning to make time to practice my language skills for a while now.

Also on the agenda for this weekend is a bonfire party on the bay, a trip to the Baltimore Farmer's market, and helping at the Lantern Parade workshop. I plan to spend all day Monday in the kitchen, making ravioli, butternut squash soup, beef stew, tomato gravy and pesto to freeze for the winter.

Have a great weekend everyone! : )