I want to be happy, full of laughter.
I want to be focused and driven.
I want to be active in my community.
I want to love. I want to be loved.
I want to be proud of who I am. I want to be proud of my accomplishments.
I want to be beautiful, inside and out.
I want to be compassionate. I want to be passionate.
I want to remember what's important and life, not sweat the small stuff.
I want to be kind, warm and open.
I want to know where I stand. I want to be grounded.
I want to explore my creative side.
I want to be fair.
I want to be curious, a life-long learner.
I want to be a loving and caring daughter, partner and friend.
I want to move forward.
I want to be able to admit when I'm wrong.
I want to be appreciative of all the wonderful people in my life. I want to be appreciated.
I want to be self-confident. I want to be self-aware.
I want to not be afraid.
I want to take chances.
I want to follow my heart.
I want to be the best person I can be.
* Today is Yom Kippur, perhaps the most important of all the Jewish holidays. The week between Rosh Hashana--the Jewish New Year--and Yom Kippur, is a time for self-reflection, a time to commit to being the person you want to be, a time to forgive, a time to recognize an accept that you are not perfect. Whether you are Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Pagan, Hindu, Baha'i, whatever, I encourage you to ask yourself, "What kind of person do you want to be?"
-- Post From My iPhone
24.9.09
I apologize for cross posting, but this is really important to me
All over Washington, D.C.
How is it that the fat used to make the most delicious canolis in the city is now being banned by law, but gadgets like these that allow people to be lazy mfers are not getting any criticism? Hey government, why don't you leave my Italian pastries alone and go do something helpful like passing a telecommuting bill or finding a way to give schools better funding.
-- Post From My iPhone
How is it that the fat used to make the most delicious canolis in the city is now being banned by law, but gadgets like these that allow people to be lazy mfers are not getting any criticism? Hey government, why don't you leave my Italian pastries alone and go do something helpful like passing a telecommuting bill or finding a way to give schools better funding.
-- Post From My iPhone
14.9.09
What's on my mind
Some days I wish I were a cat. I would love to lay around the house all day, being stroked and soaking up the sun.
Be good, or be discreet.
I have great legs. My ankles are delicate and feminine, and my calf muscles are firm and defined. What do you love about your body?
A third old friend has re-entered my life...what is going on in the universe!?!
I've finally reached a point in my life where I know that I could be happy anywhere, doing anything. My happiness is not situational or circumstantial, it is part of my essence, my soul.
To-do lists, appointments, big plans, tough choices...life is hard. Wonderful, but difficult at times.
Our time on this planet is short. How can I make the most of mine? I know that I can't live forever, and I wouldn't want to, but it would be nice to leave this world having made a difference. It's not recognition I seek; I just want to know that there is a purpose, a meaning to my life. Sometimes it feels all for naught.
There's the beginnings of a poem I wrote in my blogger drafts, but I'm not sure I have the guts to finish it, much less hit publish.
I am really tempted to buy a pair of the sparkly pink go-go boots I saw online...But, when can a respectable girl like me ever wear something like that?
Be good, or be discreet.
I have great legs. My ankles are delicate and feminine, and my calf muscles are firm and defined. What do you love about your body?
A third old friend has re-entered my life...what is going on in the universe!?!
I've finally reached a point in my life where I know that I could be happy anywhere, doing anything. My happiness is not situational or circumstantial, it is part of my essence, my soul.
To-do lists, appointments, big plans, tough choices...life is hard. Wonderful, but difficult at times.
Our time on this planet is short. How can I make the most of mine? I know that I can't live forever, and I wouldn't want to, but it would be nice to leave this world having made a difference. It's not recognition I seek; I just want to know that there is a purpose, a meaning to my life. Sometimes it feels all for naught.
There's the beginnings of a poem I wrote in my blogger drafts, but I'm not sure I have the guts to finish it, much less hit publish.
I am really tempted to buy a pair of the sparkly pink go-go boots I saw online...But, when can a respectable girl like me ever wear something like that?
12.9.09
my strange little world
Some of my favorite blog posts to read are those with short random snippets, so I've decided to explore that style myself. Thank you Lizzi, Brandi, BustySatan and Lora for being my muses.
I accidently bought "light" lager. Ughh. Should I put it out of its misery and toss it off the back porch?
Kayaking is my favorite hobby, because every time we get a few inches of rain I blow off all my chores and hit the rapids. It's nice to live in the moment, even if it's only for a moment.
I'm trying to lose a few pounds before my trip to Paris in November, so I downloaded an app to count calories called "lose it." It seems that the only way for me to trim up and maintain my drinking habit is to skip dinner. That can't be healthy.
Forgiveness is what Yom Kippur is all about, but I can't help but wonder if some actions are simply unforgiveable.
Speaking of Yom Kippur, I am thinking of fasting this year. After my birthright trip to Israel this past March, I have a renewed desire follow Jewish customs that I had given up on.
When I dance, I feel like the whole world is smiling.
Beets are delicious but they turn my pee an odd shade of pink.
Have you ever tried marañón? It's the fruit that produces cashews. When you bite into it, all the moisture is sucked out of your mouth and your tongue feels rough and dry like a cat's.
Whenever I say "Maryland," I say it like "Mara-land." I'm egotistical like that.
I accidently bought "light" lager. Ughh. Should I put it out of its misery and toss it off the back porch?
Kayaking is my favorite hobby, because every time we get a few inches of rain I blow off all my chores and hit the rapids. It's nice to live in the moment, even if it's only for a moment.
I'm trying to lose a few pounds before my trip to Paris in November, so I downloaded an app to count calories called "lose it." It seems that the only way for me to trim up and maintain my drinking habit is to skip dinner. That can't be healthy.
Forgiveness is what Yom Kippur is all about, but I can't help but wonder if some actions are simply unforgiveable.
Speaking of Yom Kippur, I am thinking of fasting this year. After my birthright trip to Israel this past March, I have a renewed desire follow Jewish customs that I had given up on.
When I dance, I feel like the whole world is smiling.
Beets are delicious but they turn my pee an odd shade of pink.
Have you ever tried marañón? It's the fruit that produces cashews. When you bite into it, all the moisture is sucked out of your mouth and your tongue feels rough and dry like a cat's.
Whenever I say "Maryland," I say it like "Mara-land." I'm egotistical like that.
10.9.09
I'm supposed to be working....
The lovely Lizzi tagged all of her readers for this meme. Now, I am tagging all of you!
Available or married?
Not married, but not available either
Best Friend?
All my friends are great! I haven't used the term "best friend" since my "break up" with Jessica at the beginning of this year.
Cake or Pie?
I don't discriminate!
Drink of choice?
Again, I don't discriminate! Shots of tequila? I'm game. Irish whiskey? Count me in. Dirty martini? Hell yeah! Dark rum? Delish! I'd go on but I think I may have revealed too much already.
Essential item for every day use?
Dental floss
Favorite color?
Red--I'm a hooker like that.
Google?
I don't know how we ever lived without it! Though, Iamhalal search engine may give google a run fo its money. This new search engine aimed at Muslims keeps the intenet clean. Try looking up "boobs." "Oops! Your seaech inquiry has a Haram level 3 of 3. No boobs for you!"
Hometown: North East, MD
Indulgences?
Booze, fine cheese, shoes
January or February?
January
Kids and their names?
"Papi chulo" and "Puss cat" aka "Pie"--cats are the closest thing to children I will ever have.
Life is incomplete without?
Music...the world stops spinning when the beat stops.
Marriage date?
201?
Number of siblings?
0
Oranges or apples?
Since apples are fresher in this part of the world, I'll have to go with gala or honey crisp apples.
Phobias and fears?
Heights
Quote for the day?
"Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves," Carl Jung
Reason to smile?
Smiling and laughing is good for the soul :)
Season?
Summertime
Tag 3 people?
You, you and you!
Unknown fact about me?
As much as I yap, there's not much unknown about me. I'll give it a shot though...I was almost expelled from high school the spring of my senior year.
Vegetable you hate?
I have never met a vegetable I didn't like!
Worst habit?
I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
X-rays you’ve had?
Femur, wrists, teeth, spine,
Your fave food?
Pad Thai, Guatemalan style tacos, gallo pinto, mee krob, schwarma, falafel, steamed crabs, latkes...I could go on for days, really.
Available or married?
Not married, but not available either
Best Friend?
All my friends are great! I haven't used the term "best friend" since my "break up" with Jessica at the beginning of this year.
Cake or Pie?
I don't discriminate!
Drink of choice?
Again, I don't discriminate! Shots of tequila? I'm game. Irish whiskey? Count me in. Dirty martini? Hell yeah! Dark rum? Delish! I'd go on but I think I may have revealed too much already.
Essential item for every day use?
Dental floss
Favorite color?
Red--I'm a hooker like that.
Google?
I don't know how we ever lived without it! Though, Iamhalal search engine may give google a run fo its money. This new search engine aimed at Muslims keeps the intenet clean. Try looking up "boobs." "Oops! Your seaech inquiry has a Haram level 3 of 3. No boobs for you!"
Hometown: North East, MD
Indulgences?
Booze, fine cheese, shoes
January or February?
January
Kids and their names?
"Papi chulo" and "Puss cat" aka "Pie"--cats are the closest thing to children I will ever have.
Life is incomplete without?
Music...the world stops spinning when the beat stops.
Marriage date?
201?
Number of siblings?
0
Oranges or apples?
Since apples are fresher in this part of the world, I'll have to go with gala or honey crisp apples.
Phobias and fears?
Heights
Quote for the day?
"Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves," Carl Jung
Reason to smile?
Smiling and laughing is good for the soul :)
Season?
Summertime
Tag 3 people?
You, you and you!
Unknown fact about me?
As much as I yap, there's not much unknown about me. I'll give it a shot though...I was almost expelled from high school the spring of my senior year.
Vegetable you hate?
I have never met a vegetable I didn't like!
Worst habit?
I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
X-rays you’ve had?
Femur, wrists, teeth, spine,
Your fave food?
Pad Thai, Guatemalan style tacos, gallo pinto, mee krob, schwarma, falafel, steamed crabs, latkes...I could go on for days, really.
9.9.09
Changing seasons
Summer is my favorite time of year. Nothing beats long, sun-filled days, trips to the beach, fresh-steamed blue crabs, and garden-fresh tomatoes. The warm, muggy nights of summer are perfect for dancing under the moonlight or drinking beers with good friends in the backyard. Everything is alive in the summer. By August's end, plants are reaching for the sky, lush and green, and there's something fun and exciting going on every weekend. Summertime is youthful and energetic, a time for play.
I spend the beginning of each fall lamenting summer's end, but this year I am feeling something new. This year, as the weather cools and the days become shorter, I find myself standing face-to-face with the brevity of my existence.
Summer has turned into fall, which will soon turn into winter, then spring. Another year of my life will have passed me by.
Time has become a precious commodity. The hopes and dreams that I have held dear to my heart, yet at arms-length, are suddenly prominent in my mind. My desire to break free, to escape the rat race, to do something that really matters is burning and urgent.
If I don't take a chance and follow my dreams soon, will I ever? Will the daily grind that my life has become consume me? As I approach 30, I worry that I will become complacent and settled in my ways, whatever they are.
I am torn. I find comfort in the predictable and secure life I have built for myself, but I yearn for spontaneity and adventure. I want it all. I want nothing. I want to feel connected, but I feel like running. Running back toward the idealistic person I once was, the life I once lived, before so many summers had passed by.
I spend the beginning of each fall lamenting summer's end, but this year I am feeling something new. This year, as the weather cools and the days become shorter, I find myself standing face-to-face with the brevity of my existence.
Summer has turned into fall, which will soon turn into winter, then spring. Another year of my life will have passed me by.
Time has become a precious commodity. The hopes and dreams that I have held dear to my heart, yet at arms-length, are suddenly prominent in my mind. My desire to break free, to escape the rat race, to do something that really matters is burning and urgent.
If I don't take a chance and follow my dreams soon, will I ever? Will the daily grind that my life has become consume me? As I approach 30, I worry that I will become complacent and settled in my ways, whatever they are.
I am torn. I find comfort in the predictable and secure life I have built for myself, but I yearn for spontaneity and adventure. I want it all. I want nothing. I want to feel connected, but I feel like running. Running back toward the idealistic person I once was, the life I once lived, before so many summers had passed by.
3.9.09
Reconnecting (Part 2)
When I wrote Reconnecting (Part 1), I had envisioned that Part 2 would be a follow-up post describing how the newly reforged relationship was faring. Since then however, another person from my past has reappeared in my life. I don't know what's going on in the universe.....
I got a phone call from an unknown number last week, which I promptly diverted to voicemail. Standard procedure for me.
A few minutes later, my phone beeped to indicate that I had a new message. I played the voicemail and heard a small and wavering voice on the other end. It only took a couple of words..."hey Mara"...and I knew who it was immediately. The message was long and apologetic..."sorry I stopped calling you....I miss you.."
The story about how I lost (or at least thought I had lost) this friend is similar to the one I told last week, except this girl and I go way, way, way back. I'm talking back to our days of diapers and pacifiers back.
We were best friends through all of our childhood. We spent our weekends joined at the hip, jumping on the giant trampoline in her yard, playing in the creek, tromping through the woods and tormenting her little sister who always followed us around. We shared everything from an innocent crush on Peter from GhostBusters to boogie boards on the beach in the summertime.
We were inseparable until middle school
That's when her parents decided that I was a bad influence on their daughter and forbade her from hanging out with me for a year or two. Of course we still saw each other in school until I moved to another town in eighth grade. Now in different schools, we started to make different friends.
By the time high school rolled around, we were in completely different "social circles" at completey different schools. That didn't matter. We still referred to one another as "my best friend." I went through many other "best friends" during this time, but she was a constant. Always.
She was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on after being verbally abused by my drug-addict father. She was there when I quit the soccer team because my interests had shifted from sports to weed. She was there all the times I got grounded for sneaking out of the house or stealing the family car. She was there when at age 15 I had to leave school and go to outpatient rehab. And, she was there during my final two years of high school when I continued to struggle with my to be clean. She was always there.
After high school, I went off to college and she didn't. It was my best friend's turn to lose herself in an altered state of concsciousness. Just when I was cleaning up my act, she was tumbling downhill. Fast.
I won't go into the details, but at her lowest, she was shooting heroin and stealing from her work. Actually, the stealing may be what saved her life. She got caught and was sentenced to probation and mandatory in-patient rehabilitation.
I tried to be there for her. I visited her when she went to the halfway house. I listened to her babble on about god and how if she could just give herself to him, she would be OK. I did my best to accept the ex-addict, ex-drug dealer, ex-homeless guy she claimed to love.
I tried until she stopped answering my phone calls. After a few months of not hearing from her, I got a card in the mail saying she loved me but couldn't be my friend anymore.
Maybe she sensed my disgust of the way she was placing her new-found faith in god instead of in herself. Maybe she knew I secretly hated her new boyfriend. Maybe she couldn't stand to see me doing so much better than she was. Maybe she wasn't doing better at all. Maybe she couldn't stand hanging out with someone she used to get high with. Maybe I'll never know her reasons.
It took me a couple of days to muster up the courage to call her back after hearing that voicemail. I wondered what I would say, what she would say, would it be awkard, until I finally just made the call.
She aswered the phone, "Hi. Mara?" Before I could say anything, she started talking: "There's something I have to say..." She told me she was sorry that she hadn't contacted me in years and that she really missed me and hoped I could forgive her for being a "bad friend."
I told her that I understood and that she could have waited 50 years to call me; I still would have picked up the phone and been happy to hear her voice. With those few words, 26 years of friendship were salvaged. No more apologies or explanations needed.
I got a phone call from an unknown number last week, which I promptly diverted to voicemail. Standard procedure for me.
A few minutes later, my phone beeped to indicate that I had a new message. I played the voicemail and heard a small and wavering voice on the other end. It only took a couple of words..."hey Mara"...and I knew who it was immediately. The message was long and apologetic..."sorry I stopped calling you....I miss you.."
The story about how I lost (or at least thought I had lost) this friend is similar to the one I told last week, except this girl and I go way, way, way back. I'm talking back to our days of diapers and pacifiers back.
We were best friends through all of our childhood. We spent our weekends joined at the hip, jumping on the giant trampoline in her yard, playing in the creek, tromping through the woods and tormenting her little sister who always followed us around. We shared everything from an innocent crush on Peter from GhostBusters to boogie boards on the beach in the summertime.
We were inseparable until middle school
That's when her parents decided that I was a bad influence on their daughter and forbade her from hanging out with me for a year or two. Of course we still saw each other in school until I moved to another town in eighth grade. Now in different schools, we started to make different friends.
By the time high school rolled around, we were in completely different "social circles" at completey different schools. That didn't matter. We still referred to one another as "my best friend." I went through many other "best friends" during this time, but she was a constant. Always.
She was there when I needed a shoulder to cry on after being verbally abused by my drug-addict father. She was there when I quit the soccer team because my interests had shifted from sports to weed. She was there all the times I got grounded for sneaking out of the house or stealing the family car. She was there when at age 15 I had to leave school and go to outpatient rehab. And, she was there during my final two years of high school when I continued to struggle with my to be clean. She was always there.
After high school, I went off to college and she didn't. It was my best friend's turn to lose herself in an altered state of concsciousness. Just when I was cleaning up my act, she was tumbling downhill. Fast.
I won't go into the details, but at her lowest, she was shooting heroin and stealing from her work. Actually, the stealing may be what saved her life. She got caught and was sentenced to probation and mandatory in-patient rehabilitation.
I tried to be there for her. I visited her when she went to the halfway house. I listened to her babble on about god and how if she could just give herself to him, she would be OK. I did my best to accept the ex-addict, ex-drug dealer, ex-homeless guy she claimed to love.
I tried until she stopped answering my phone calls. After a few months of not hearing from her, I got a card in the mail saying she loved me but couldn't be my friend anymore.
Maybe she sensed my disgust of the way she was placing her new-found faith in god instead of in herself. Maybe she knew I secretly hated her new boyfriend. Maybe she couldn't stand to see me doing so much better than she was. Maybe she wasn't doing better at all. Maybe she couldn't stand hanging out with someone she used to get high with. Maybe I'll never know her reasons.
It took me a couple of days to muster up the courage to call her back after hearing that voicemail. I wondered what I would say, what she would say, would it be awkard, until I finally just made the call.
She aswered the phone, "Hi. Mara?" Before I could say anything, she started talking: "There's something I have to say..." She told me she was sorry that she hadn't contacted me in years and that she really missed me and hoped I could forgive her for being a "bad friend."
I told her that I understood and that she could have waited 50 years to call me; I still would have picked up the phone and been happy to hear her voice. With those few words, 26 years of friendship were salvaged. No more apologies or explanations needed.
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