Monday, March 31, 2014

letter lion

My daugher was incested by her father, utt ucked, when she was five. He was abusive to me, locked us out of our jointly owned home, installed his parents and forbid me admission to get clothing, even the baby's diapers (I used cloth). It took 3 years of litigation to get out of NEbraska with my kid, cost me over $50K in the early eighties.

When she was five, visiting hi for Xmas, she was in bed, freshly bathed with clean jammies and she heard the bedroom door open. She thought her dad was coming in to give her a kiss good night so sh pretended to be sleep. Instead of a kiss, he pulled back covers, pulled down jammies and annally raped her.

She did not come home and tell me this. She came back a different child. her teachers asked 'what has happened to Katie? She used to be the kind of student every teacher dreams of having. Her good behavior, eagerness to learn role models for the other children, she is a leader, popular and useful since  Christmas she disrupts everything." She would steal from friends of ours when we had dinner at their place and when conoronted with her setaling, she said "IT was your fault. You should have bought me this thing I stoile". When her Sunday School teacher (a Unity Church, with sunday school curriculum based on the wizard of oz -- I couldn't handle Catholicism, in which I was raised or real christianity. . . her JSunday school teacher said "What happened to Katie?" and I finally knew something had happened but I didn't think it was incest. I thought her dad had spanked her too hard over a trivial rule infraction. He was like that.

So I sat her down and instead of reading a book as I tucked her in, I said "Something has happened to my little girl. I want you to tell me why you have been so different since Xmas" She staratead crying, curled into the corner of her bed in fear and said "HE said if I told you, he would kill you."   He had threatened to kill me plenty  of times but to terrorize out five year old with such threats? 

I stopped the conversation. I knew something serioius had happened. Like many, even most, mothers of inceested children, it was very hard for me to conceive that my child had been incested by her father but I knew whatever had happened, and I was stil imagining a whupping, but I knew my own antipathy towards Frank was so strong that I was not the person to draw her out. I decided in that oment to find a therapist for her.

The very next morning her teachers asked if they could talk to me as I dropped her off. The poor dears were very nervous about what they felt they needed to tell me. They said Katie has been so different since xmas, it is a sstartling, rare change in a child. We think the only thing that would explain it is abuse, probably sexual abuse."  the poor gals were wringing their hands.

I put them at ease and said "No worries, I just figured the same thing out last night."

Then they talked about being mandated reporters, but they had the name of a therapist at U. of MN that specialized in sexually abused children and they said if I called the therapist, also a mandated reporter, they would not file a report. So Katie started therapy.

Oh, that night when I confronted Katie, I said "whatever happened, I will protect you?"  How, she asked, how can you protect me when I have court ordered visits -- sshe was the child of two lawyers and talked like that, knew all about our court orders.

I said "I won't send you to see him again until a judge foces me to. His visits are over until then."

Negraska no longer had jurisdiction over Katie's custody since we had been in MN several years so I knew Frank had to come to court in MN to enforce his visitation and I knew MN Child Protection, Minneapolis police chil sexual abuse group, a local MD and her local therapist would all make it hard for jFrank to get visits.

Eventually Frank filed in MN and the court appointed a guardian ad litem for Katie -- that means a lawyer paid for by the court to represent atie. I loved it that she had her own lawyer so I didn't have to deal with Frank and do all the work of standing up to him. She ordered supervised visits and therapy. She forbid phone calls after he would call and bring up the sexual assault and order Katie to take it back. I didn't have to be the enforcer anymore. Katie talked to her lawyer and her lawyer handled things.

But then Frank went into a Nebraska court, much more conservative than MN to enforce his visitation and the judge had my NE lawyer get me on the hone. I did not go to the hearing because if I had, NE would ave had personal jurisdiction o ver me and ould amend my custodial rights. That's what the law says. but in reality, judges can do whatever the heck they want.

That judge ordered me, over the phone, with no authority, to send Katie on a plane -- Frank would send a ticket, Frank would not tell me where my kid was going. The judge told him to tell me but Frank refused the the judged ignored that.

the judge said "I am sick and tired of women making up sexual abuse to stop their children's fathers from visitation.

Physical and sexual abuse of children and women is much more common than good people like you, raised, it seems by loving parents know. I was incested as a chld, too and my mother stopped it by blaming me and brutally -- really brutally beating me. It worked. dad never molested me again but he eventually molested all six of his kids, boys and girls.

that article you posted today about women feeling helpless about the way colleges suppress sexual assault to maintain aappearance and some young women snap and do wrong things like false rape --- that behavior is part of the culture of rape. The women feel helpless so they try desparate things.

You know I have lost my daughter. What you don't know it that it happens a lot more than anyone realizes. I never saw it comoing. My parents both abused me and I never cut them off. I did not abuse Katie and she cut me off. I have since learned, and met people with the same issues, that it is more commmon than we know.

Incest is much more common than lucky peolewho don't know about it know. jThe taboo about incest protects the perpetrators. Look at how the 'catholic church behaves.

I am disappointed about the false rape and harassment allegations, of course I am, but looking at that as a big issue while ignoring the very large volume of sexual assaulat on many college campuses is like only countting the tip of an iceberg. Millenia of female oppression created the situation we have now.

I feel anger when decent men respond to feminism by pointing fingers at women's flaws.

How is being chattel different than slavery?  quote from the atlantic on black oppressoin that relates to female oppression

The argument is that structural conditions shape culture, and culture, in turn, can take on a life of its own independent of the forces that created it. It would be bizarre to imagine that centuries of slavery, followed by systematic terrorism, segregation, discrimination, a legacy wealth gap, and so on did not leave a cultural residue that itself became an impediment to success.

the issue to solving world's problems is sanity

This is a 1996 quote from Willis Harman, who founded the Institute of Noetic Science, I believe:

"When you talk to people in Washington these days, they're hoping we'll get through the next budget cycle, or that whatever it is that's likely to happen won't happen on their watch, and we'll make it through to the next election. There is no goal out there. There's no picture of a viable global future that everybody is shaping their policy by. Our own inner resources, properly recognized and used, could restore us to sanity, and sanity is the key word. That is, the issue on the planet is not the environment or the nuclear weapons or any of the other things we hear about. The issue is sanity."

And the political landscape almost seemed sane in 1996 when Harman said this. Now there is no attempt to deal with the very real problems facing global humanity.

NYTimes on Heidegger's newly revealed depth of antisemitism

Heideggers notebooks reveal depth of his anti-semitism

I know the guy was a philosophy genius and much admired. But how the heck can someone, seriously, philosophize about the meaning of life while being strongly antisemitic?  Or strongly supportive of any kind of ethnic cleansing?! I shudder to think what he thought of nonwhites.

Good news for whales! ! !

An international court has said that Japan must stop its 'scientific' whaling. Yippee!

Tommy's not a man!

When my niece was less than two, but talking well, she and my sister stayed with me and my daughter for several weeks. I owned a duplex. My home was the top two stories, skylights, a gut-rehab, parquet floors. Gorgeous.

The first floor was a small two bedroom. I was able to rent it by putting a sign on the front porch. Within hours, I'd have multiple applications. I lost some potential renters with the no smoking whatsoever, not even guests, clause in the lease.

My first renters were two cute lesbian undergrads. My daughter adored them and was eager to befriend them. They completely ignored her and were cool to me. When their six months' lease was up, I terminated their tenancy. Lots of landlords use one-year leases because it costs money to turn over apartments. A sign in the window and carpet shampooing was all it cost me, plus spackling nail holes and touching up the paint, which I did myself. I used a six month lease because an owner-occupied duplex allows one to feel the tenants below. Those girls had a dance party on the front porch of my property, while I was out of town, on the day my handyman had stained the brand new porch. The dancing ruined the finish and I was stuck with it, with no budget to strip the porch and refinish it. As soon as I got back in town, their six months up, I gave them notice.

The next renters were two gay guys. When they came to see the place, I asked them if they were gay and they said no. When they came to sign the lease, they brought up their gender identify, apologized for lying and acknowledged they were gay but not a couple.  They said lots of people wouldn't rent to gays and they were used to hiding it but they had a feeling I wouldn't care. I didn't.

One of the gay men was about 5'10', white and blonde. The other guy was about 6'2" and as dark as a black person can be. They were both very good looking. And great tenants.

Oh, I had two other guys in there briefly before the gay ones. I hated their energy, they hated mine so I said "If you guys would happen to like to move sooner, I'd let you out of the lease." The anal retentive one, who was the one that made me want them out, showed up with a formal contract he insisted I had to sign acknowledging that they were not breaking the lease. I was being nice to let them out early and he turned it into an adversarial thing.  Yuck.  I was so glad he accepted my offer to move out early.  I told him, when I offered to let him out early that I sensed he was unhappy living there. I did not tell him that my daughter and I couldn't stand his energy. His roommate was okay.  It may sound  crazy but I always felt, vividly,the energy of my renters, who lived below where I lived my life.  I didn't even have to have unhappy interactions with them. If they felt bad, I kicked them out when the six months were up, not stuck with them for a whole year.

And I was pleased when the gay men, Tim (blondie) and Tommy (black) moved in. I really liked both of them.  Eventually, Tim fell in love and moved in with his lover and then Tommy decided to stay on alone, for the place was very affordable.

My niece was very young, under age two, I am pretty sure. We told her someone lived downstairs but she never saw them and they weren't real. At some point, Tim moved out and Tommy stayed on alone. That was great for us:  less noise and Tommy had a great energy.

Once, on a particularly cold day, when he entered through the front door, the glass ball light fixture shattered when he closed the door. He knocked on mine, apologized and said he would pay for it. I told I'm not to worry about it, that the cold broke the bulb. Plus those glass balls, then, only cost about six bucks. And the fixture shattered because it was so cold, not because Tommy had slammed the door, which he hadn't. He just came into the building.

I rarely saw Tommy. I parked in the back and came and went from the back door. He parked in the front and came and went in front.

Then my sis and niece came to stay and one day, my tiny niece met Tommy.  Tommy was as charming as Denzel Washington only darker with a bigger, whiter smile. He lifted weights. He dated a very heavily cut white guy that was very macho. I imagined them having met while lifting weights.  I loved Tommy.  He also collected Pez dispensers, had then lined up all over the apartment. I loved that.

My niece was wide-eyed when she, Tommy and I all converged on the front door at the same time. I was babysitting, sister not there. I introduced her to Tommy.  I believe Tommy was the first nonwhite person she had yet met. We  climbed up to my home and I told her mother, when she came home  "She met Tommy, the man who lives downstairs." My niece said, emphatically, "Tommy is not a man!"  She spoke with a tone of anxiety and sounded adamant. My sister and I, without actually consulting one another almost in perfect unison kept insisting "Oh yes, Tommy is a man" but we didn't say more, did not address his race.  My sis and I simply insisted that Tommy was a man, and we both believed my niece said that because she had never seen such a dark person before. He seemed so different to her that he did not meet her expectations of what a man could look like.  My sis and I,  both restated a couple times, emphatically, "Tommy is a man."  We did not refer to his color. We just kept saying "Oh yes, Tommy is a man, and he's a really nice one."  We did not want to discuss Tommy's blackness in front of our little one, to stigmatize his color for her. We just kept insisting "Oh yes, Tommy is a man" and I talked about what a very nice man he was. And he was.

After that first meeting, my niece asked about that man downstairs many times but I don't think she ever saw him again. My sister and niece got their own place and moved to St. Paul, near my sister's graduate school.  And Tommy soon moved in with his weight-lifting lover.

The next tenants cut down my dwarf lilac shrub without discussing it with me. I am still amazed that they arrogantly assumed they could destroy my property. They said they did it for safety but it was a little bitty dwarf lilac with only a couple lilacs hanging over the bannister to the front stairs. It had taken about five years to get any lilacs on that dwarf lilac. I chose a dwarf because my front yard was very tiny but I love lilacs. They clipped off all the lilacs for that spring. I didn't kick them out because I sold the house to finance my kid's college. I deducted the cost of a dwarf lilac from their deposit in the closing. That's what security deposits are for, to cover damage a tenant causes.

Tommy, the man, would never had chopped down my dwarf lilac.

nonconformity now considered mental illness

Nonconformity Now Considered Mental Illness

The new DSM lists nonconformity, free thinking,  and exceptional creativity as mental illness. Happily for the mental health field, these are treatable. Kaching! And control!  Shame on these putative experts for categorizing nonconformity as a mental illness. Makes me wonder what the dominator elite has in store for the little people.  I don't think this change in the DSM bodes well for the human future or nonconformists.

 For the record, it is nonconformists that change things for the better. Steve Jobs, Joan of Arc, Marcel Duchamp, Pablo Picasso, Mary Cassatt.  Louis Pastuer, Mother Teresa, Van Gough, Monet, Josef Beuys.  Who invented electricity? a nonconformist thinker, that's who. I could list nonconformists who made important contribututions to human culture without end. And I only know mostly about Western culture.  Suffragettes, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony.  Martin Luther, who chucked off Catholicism! Early advocates of ending slavery were nonconformists.

Seems to me everything good in human culture is owed to nonconformists.

The dominator culture wants to suppress all difference and create drone-like wage slaves. What's wrong with the so-called mental health field that they cooperate?

Be a nonconformist

Be happier. Discern who you truly are and have the courage to be that person as fully as possible.  

Some nonconformists off the top of my head: Salvador Dali, Marcel Duchamp, Albert Einstein, Joan of Arc, Mother Teresa, that Hildegard chick in Europe, Nefertiti, Monet, Van Gogh, Andy Warhol, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Alexander Graham Bell, Jane Austen, George Elliot.. . the list could go on forever. Most great human achievements became possible because a nonconformist dared to be nonconformist.

Even salmons run upstream!

a lifelong dream of a cup of tea

I have taken care of many people when they were sick.  I usually offer them cups of soothing tea, maybe some dry toast. And all my life, I have hoped someone would bring me a cup of tea when I am sick.

When I was up earlier, to use the restroom and eat something to keep my glucose steady, I turned on my electric tea kettle. Now the water must be cold again. I don't have the energy to go into the next room and make myself a cup of tea. It takes two trips:   one to turn on the water, one to make the tea and pour the homemade coconut milk.

I think I feel more sad that no one, ever, has brought me a cup of tea, sick or well, than I feel sad by how sick I am.

my diabetes is well managed

I have been managing my diabetes like a saint, eating carefully, testing, injecting insulin. And my blood tests demonstrated that my diabetes is totally under control.

It's something else. Geez, last week my doc called me and talked over twenty minutes.

I am proud of how well I have been managing my diabetes.

It's scary, however, to feel so unwell and to have no idea why.

love: gut-wrenching, pride swallowing work

true dat

had doc apptmt, my doc called in sick

I have been the most sick I have ever been. The most info I could get today was from the triage nurse who said my blood tests do indicate I need to see a doc right away. I had just been on the phone with an appointment person who told me I couldn't see my doc for three weeks but suddenly the triage nurse found an opening on Thursday, after he looked at my labs.

I must be seriously sick.

I know seeing my doc today wouldn't have magically improved how poorly I have been for months but it might have started me on the road to recovery.

I suppose everyone who is sick for a long time, esp. folks with terminal illnesses, rail at the illness.

I am so tired of being sick all the time.

Sunday, March 30, 2014


friends stand by you when you are at your worst

All people - everyone -- is at least occasionally at their worst.  It's a good way to uncover who your friends are. The nonfriends flee when you are unhappy, imperfect and human.

I see my primary doc tomorrow: here's my reward

If I have lost weight since I last saw her, and I am sure I have, I get to eat something indulgent, indulgent by my gluten-free, sugar-free and dairy-free standards:  fallafel and tahini.

on choosing to be an artist

Virginia Nicholson writes in Among the Bohemians: Experiments in Living 1900–1939:
Fifty years on we may judge that Dylan Thomas's poverty was noble, while Nina Hamnett's was senseless. But a minor artist with no money goes as hungry as a genius. What drove them to do it? I believe that such people were not only choosing art, they were choosing the life of the artist. Art offered them a different way of living, one that they believed more than compensated for the loss of comfort and respectability.[1]

I believe many more humans are guided by their inner wisdom to be artists than we have artists in this world.  I believe that as humans evolve a healthy culture that nurtures every human to discern who they are, what work they are called to and then provided all the trianing and support need to become who they are supposed to be and to do the work they are called to do, humanity will have more artists than business people.

As technology advances, there is less and less labor need for human survival. Some will always be called to be farmers -- what a sacred calling, to grow food. Some will be called to be train drivers (what is the right word for that gig?). There will always be someone who is called to do the things that need doing.

We will, however, realign our values. All will live more humbly. Tiny homes, reverence for the earth and its bounty, no profits.

And the world will be chock a block full of both artists and art. Music, literature, theater, filmmaking.

And caregiving will be seen as a sacred calling.

And teaching, especially young children, will have a highly honored place.

In Waldorf Schools, kindergarden teachers are considered to be some of the most highly evolved teachers in the school. Working with children that age reuires very special teachers becuase it is a time when very important inner work is accomplished by the children.

One of the many serious problems we have in human culture today is that we do not keep children asleep, do not give them time and space to develop inwardly. Many seem to think teaching some basic skills to become literate labor is enough. No. No. No.  We need every human to become fully realized. When every human is living in true alignment with their authentic selves, their love, or Goddess, selves, all of humanity will move in synchronicity, rooted in reverenced and trust.

Free market capitalism is far, far off course.

I don't suggest everyone become an artist. I suggest that every human that wishes to be an artist should be able to be one. Give all humans a stipend and housing, with opportunities to have more if they choose to work more.

Many in the world now choose to live lives aligned with their values. A barrier to my ideal human culture is money. Our money system is insane, allowing anonymous rich men to own the Federal Reserves and giving them the power to create money simply by creating debt, debt others owe them. They give nothing for the debt but the paper it is written on and they grow rich. This is the role the constitution gave Congress. Get rid of the Federal Reserves and revamp money, labor and capitaol.

Follow Rudolf Steiner's ideas on economics. He said that the economic realm of human culture exists solely to support the social and cultural realms in a healthy human culture. The economic realm serves us but in our present system, most serve the money system instead of the money system serving us. Steiner said the economic realm should never be larger than the other realms of culture.

Someday, if we don't snuff ourselves out by allowing nonperson corporations to rape the planet, Steiner's vision for a threefold social order with economics in perfect balance with the rest of human culture will emerge.  I am not so attached to Steiner's ideas that it has to look exactly like he foresaw human culture evolving.  I do happen to believe he was correct and that a healthy human culture will look very much as he described it should.

Marcel Duchamp has always been one of my favorite artists. He once entered an upside down urinal in a major art show. It was rejected so he rented the space across the hall fo=rom the show and his 'fountain', which is what he called it, became the sensation of the show, just not in the show. When others objected that an upside urinal was not art, he said "It is art because I say it is art. I am an artist. What I say is art, is art."

Choose to be what you truly wish to be. And, quoting George Eliot now, "it is never too late to be who you were supposed to be." Choose now and, remember, you are alwaays free to choose again.

You not only get to be you. You owe it to the rest of us to be you.

Saturday, March 29, 2014

The Love Ranger

I am the Love Ranger. I should wear a mask around my eyes like pirates, Zorro and the Lone Ranger. I would wear a white mask, of course.

Blue is the Warmest Color: top prize at Cannes 2013

Blue is the Warmest Color is streaming now on Netflix. It's about two young women who fall in love. A simple love story, beautifully done. One girl is in college and knows she a lesbian, the younger one has sex with a boy and thinks there is something wrong with her because it wasn't so great. Then she meets the girl with the blue hair.

Lots of commentary on the very raw sex scenes but I loved the 'big' sex scene in which the two young women fucked until they couldn't move any more. I have never watched porn. Maybe such long, detailed sex scenes constitute porn but it didn't seem like porn. It seemed like passion and love; to me passion and love is not porn.

The young women come from very different social classes, which stresses the relationship. And the younger girl seems lost. Lots of young people are lost, gay, straight, transgendered, bi, whatever.

The beauty of this film is the brilliant work of the two actresses, esp. the younger, more naive one. She plays emotional vulnerability and uncertainty as well as it's ever been played.

Anyone else notice movies seem to e longer? Last few movies I watched were each at least two hours. Whazzup?

In an unusual and unanimous decision by the judges who award the Cannes' Palme d'Or, they insisted that the film and the two stars be given the award. This is very unusual.  They don't give it to actors but these actors did such an amazing job that luminaries like Steven Spielberg and Nicole Kidman insisted the young female actors get the Palme d'Or along with the film. Cool, eh?

gluten, a regular white tortilla, is on my mind

Like the food speakers said, sometimes a person eats to cover up emotions. I am upset so I want to eat gluten and get a carb rush.

Sometimes I don't much like being me.

well I got to OMX for awhile

I think I heard the exactly right speakers.  I didn't see my friend. I texted him, he was busy and, as happens to me all the time lately, I suddenly felt really sick and weak. I have not owned a car since 2003 and I have used a cab two times. Today was the second time. I just couldn't walk the mile to BART.  It's not my diabetes. I just had a lot of testing done and I am managing my diabetes very well. It's something else, which doc ordered new tests for.

I'm scared. I am not scared of being sick. I am scared of being sick alone with no help.  I guess that underlies most fears of sickness, maybe?

One thing I hate about this conference: every now and then they blast ugly music, really blast it. It wears me out. In between speakers. The speakers I heard were interesting. When I left, a man and woman were talking about the psychology of eating. Fuck that. I have studied so many nutrition programs, researched about food intensely for years and years. Their brilliant insight:   you absorb nutrition better when you are happy and unstressed. Since my friend was busy, I left. Then, of course, he texted me after I had left. Walking along, I don't hear the tiny bing my cheap phone makes when I get a bing or I would have gone back to hang out with him. By the time he pinged me the third time, I was iin the BART station, my train two minutes away and zero energy to get back to the benue.

I feel lucky that I walked the two blocks from BART to my apartment. I actually rested in the lobby before heading up.

Home now.

But I most def am going to rise and shine early so I can hear Naomi Wolf. I have admired her for a long time, the conservative feminist that she is. Smetimes she rocks it.  She wrote 'The Beauty Myth", a paradigm shifting book. And now she promoting  a book called 'Vagina'.

The best speaker I heard has a book out about transcendental sex. A great speech. I want to read her book, but I cried while listening. I have had the kind of experiences she described in relation to one man, not someone I ever had sex with.  It was great to have my experiences validated but it was painful to be reminded he broke off all contact with me forever.

a hard day, can't hie myself to OMX

I arose early to tidy my apartment for houseguests. Then I had a breakfast, adhering to my anti-inflammatory diet:  50% protein, 50% fruit (eggs & cantaloupe!). I packed my bag for the day at OMX, including a raw salad with greens, strawberries, salmon, balsamic vinegar and organic extra virgin olive oil. Then I remembered to include a snack:  a small bag of strawberries.

I put my diabetes supplies in my messenger bag, two bottles of water*, laid out what I was going to wear and fell asleep for several hours.

I want to go back to OMX. Tonight is a party. I don't want to know how noisy that is going to be so I am resisting going to hear the afternoon speakers.

I have a friend there who gives great hugs, long ones that last a minute or longer.  He is such a good guy.  And such a good hugger. I love him and will forever. Not romantic or sexual, but great love.  I'll definitely get back tomorrow just to see him.

Plus I want to hear Naomi Wolf's talk. Her latest book is called 'Vagina'.  I've always liked her thinking. 

can you see all the beings in this tree?

This photo was taken by Thomas Arthur, an artist who now lives in the caretaker cottage at the Whidbey Institute. This tree is just outside his tiny home. It's an enchanted cottage, an enchanted land and this is an enchanted tree.

We humans are all as compldx as the beings in this tree, I think.   Look for the beings. It's an amazing tree.

Crossing the Water by Sylvia Plath

Crossing the Water
by Sylvia Plath, from a collection also called Crossing the Water

Black lake, black boat, two black, cut-paper people.
Where do the black trees go that drink here?
Their shadows must cover Canada.
A little light is filtering from the water flowers.
Their leaves do not wish us to hurry:
They are round and flat and full of dark advice.
Cold worlds shake from the oar.
The spirit of blackness is in us, it is in the fishes.
A snag is lifting a valedictory, pale hand;
Stars open among the lilies.
Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens?
This is the silence of astounded souls.

Friday, March 28, 2014

OMX: I went!! two more days to go

It amazes me the range of ages. All ages attend, and all genders, sexual orientations.

Two things I quite disliked:  booming loud music and a lousy sound system for speakers.  It was very hard to hear the keynote, even. Boom boom boom. Are there seriously people that get pumped up by all that noise?  Yuck.  And everything, absolutely everything, started late. I consider that seriously disrespectful.

Selfies Linked to Narcissism,Addiction & Mental Illness, Say Scientists

Happily, I have never once taken a selfie. A friend actually asked me to take one to show her my new haircut and I dinked around with my iPad a bit but I just couldn't take such a narcissistic photo of self.

What does it mean when one records, records, records themselves?  Here's an article, from science, not that I give science all that much credence but I like the idea that selfies are narcicissm.

Selfies = Narcissm, Mental Illness, Addiction

Orgasmic Meditation Extravaganza has begun

At 2 p.m. there is a class to learn how to OM. I know how to OM so I am going a little later to hear the woman who came up with Orgasmic Meditation.  I think it's a bit of a scam. They really want to sell people very expensive trainings, making this event very cheap. I am fascinating, however, with the idea of having more orgasms.

Sometimes the whole organization seems like two things (1) a greedy corporation charging fifteen grand to get certified as an OM trainer (or more) and (2) a kind of dating thing, where folks meet up to Om and then hook up.

I'm skeptical but I'm going. A friend of mine I have not seen in many years is going to be there with his girlfriend. He recently wrote that when he sees me he is going to give me a big kiss. That's enough reason to go. Plus I want to meet his gal, who he met, yes, as an OM event.

I paid. I'm going to hear the founder of this thing and Naomi Wolf, might skip everything else. We'll see.

on disliking the color green

I am deeply fed by green in nature. I don't like green in fabric, never have. It seems wrong to me. When I 'hear' myself write or say "I don't like green" I think of all the efforts I make to live green and eat green. Green as a metaphor for good environmental beahvior I like. Green in clothing, not for me.

I have always disliked green.  I also kinda dislike yellow. I see friends wearing something yellow and I cringe, although I have never said anything about my dislike to a friend wearing yellow or green.

I wear blues, pinks and blacks. I only wear blacks because the choice of clothing I prefer rarely comes in navy blue, only black.  Black is the absence of color and I don't care for it but I do own lots of black yoga-like pants, black tops and two black knit dresses: winter and spring ones. I'd have navy dresses if I could find them.  I should take up sewing again and make navy. In navy, my whole being is lit well.

Me? a lesbian?!

For several years, my best friend was a lesbian. Her life with her partner was filled with amazing, brilliant women. I was afraid of men. My bestie and all the women in her circles doted on my daughter. We had someone to share holidays with. And everyone thought I was gay but in denial, especially my daughter.

I am not a lesbian. I tried, hard, to become one during the aforementioned phase of my life. I was very attracted to the power of out women who had been out since the sixties. This phase of mine began in the late eighties. They all had doctorates or were Zen Buddhist priests, one more interesting than the next. I concluded there is much power if shedding society's expectations and being one's authentic self. Who needs men?!  Me. I'm not gay.

The problem was, I just didn't feel any sexual attraction. Then one day a woman named Marty said "You are going to have to have sex with a woman sooner or later, you can't just keep hanging out with us forever without actually being a lesbian." Why not?  Anyway, her comment shamed me and I moved away from that crowd.

I have been hit on by women before, of course, but no women in that circle ever hit on me.

The first time a lesbian made a move on me was in Bogotá. A young woman offered me her umbrella. It downpours almost daily in Bogotá.  I wear swearing a trenchcoat and rain hat and was just fine but I accepted her offer because I was always eager to make friends with Colombians. She invited me to stop for coffee and I did. To talk Spanish. Then she invited me to her place. My boyfriend said, as soin as I told him about the encounter "She's a lesbian and interested in you."  I did not believe him. This woman began to run into me regularly, always claiming she just happened by but Rafa said she was after me.  I rejected his silly belief  and accepted her invite to her home. He insisted on accompanying me and waiting outside until the visit was over.  I was glad he did becuse  in the apartment I became aware that she really was a lesbian and saw my apppearance as her home as an afternoon of sex. So I told her I had a boyfriend. Coyly, believing I was being coy, I think, she said "I don't think you do,"  So I went to the window to point out Rafa who was standing snetry a few doors dorn, out of the rain. I waived to him. He waived back and she showed me the door. And she was not the last woman to hit on me in Bogotá. An American woman did too, a gal from Harvard! She, too, invited me to her place and began to ask me questions about my sex life. Very specific questions. She asked me about masturbation and when I said I didn't think I had ever masturbated, she openly scorned me, accused me of lying. I was 19, and I really, truly, had not nasturbated. Since then I have, just a little bit. I need another person to enjoy an orgasm. Masturbation bores me, although sometimes I will come while having a sex dream and in these dreams I am alone, I do not touch myself yet the dream orgasms are great.

Last night, I am pretty sure a gay woman hit on me.  I was ushering at the door. Everyone else rushed by the usher, mostly ignoring me, which was okay with me.  This gal, stopped, stood alongside me and chatted me up. Admired my earrings, my hair, and said "I am sure I know you from somewhere."
I pretended I didn't know she was hitting on me and said "I guess I am just one of those people who look familiar to many."

I'm so not gay. Besides, she weas wearing a mint green jacket. I hate green.

cabbage steak recipe

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That ol' FDA and USDA. You never know what else they are going to allow in food or in medicines (or so-called medicines so-called food). We've got aspartame, MSG, polysorbate 80, formaldehyde, mercury and aluminum, etc. in vaccines. We've got BPA leaching into food from plastic containers, such as baby bottles. We've got bt toxins and glyphosate in GMO's. We've got fluoride in water and just about everywhere else. And now we have TSP, a well-known chemical degreaser used by painters to prep walls in breakfast cereals like Cheerios! It's obvious that these government agencies are the proponents of disease. They really have nothing to do with protecting people. One wonders what their modus operendi is? Is it to poison gullible people. If it is, then they are guilty of genocide and need to be held accountable.
Hundreds of foods, in dozens of stores, contain a toxic additive known as trisodium phosphate, which the FDA has called ‘safe,’ but is it really?
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This color feels healing and stabilizing today ...
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Good god, will it never stop! We really need to shout out to save those beautiful beautiful places and spaces!
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I've written a short article on population that I think might be controversial. The challenge in writing for The Guardian is that I'm supposed to keep it under 800 words. That necessarily means simplifying the argument and neglecting a lot of possible objections, which makes it easy meat for critics. (Eisenstein doesn't understand about photosynthetic capacity. Eisenstein isn't aware of Peak Phosphorous. Etc.) But I think I managed to at least suggest a fairly radical idea (the headline the editors wrote doesn't really encompass it.) Enjoy!
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The rule of ten percent and the tyranny of inclusion.
Amanda Fenton provides a very useful reference that helps underscore the reasons why core teams are important. It turns out that having 10%of a population deeply committed to an idea will significantly contribute to that idea being widely adopted by the other 90%.
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  • Chris Corrigan Think about it in terms of garaiocht...those ten percent are closest in proximity to what is least that's the positive spin on it.
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An unfortunate next step in world trade and corporate agriculture with no regard whatsoever for local community or the native landscape in a region. After Bill Gates, our food will in the end be produced entirely artificially in laboratories. Meanwhile, the Chinese are cloning the piglets they are fattening up in the new Chinese, Iowa CAFOs.
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I trust this level of protection everyday while living and travelling in Guatemala. Driving here is like a radical video game with no reset button.

Sounds delicious. I will definitely be trying this!
Garlic Rubbed Roasted Cabbage Steaks
If you love cabbage, you are going to freak out about how good this is. Now, if you are on the fence about cabbage, you need to try this because this might be the recipe that converts you to a cabbage lover.
This is a simple side dish worthy of a dinner party and couldn’t be easier to make. Four ingredients, a couple of minutes to prepare and toss in the oven for an hour.
1 (approx 2lb) head of organic green cabbage, cut into 1″ thick slices
1.5 tablespoons olive oil
2 to 3 large garlic cloves, smashed
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
spray olive oil OR non-stick cooking spray
1. Preheat oven to 400F and spray a baking sheet with non-stick cooking spray. Pull outer leaf off cabbage (it’s usually dirty and nasty looking), cut cabbage from top to bottom (bottom being root) into 1″ thick slices.
2. Rub both sides of cabbage with smashed garlic.
3. Use a pastry brush to evenly spread the olive oil over both sides of the cabbage slices.
4. Finally, sprinkle each side with a bit of kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper.
5. Roast on the middle rack for 30 minutes. Carefully flip the cabbage steaks and roast for an additional 30 minutes until edges are brown and crispy. Serve hot and Enjoy!