A Mosque at Ground Zero?

The news is covered lately with plans of a proposed mosque at ground zero. We all understand the significance of that possibility.  It also raises some questions…..

This country was founded for the purpose of religious freedom, specifically the separation of church and state.

Is it right to allow our emotions to override the very principals that this county was founded on by allowing a state to prevent a house of worship from being built on private property?

Whatever your answer to question one…

It’s not hard to imagine/understand the negative response such a thing would bring to millions of Americans.

What kind of religious leader would knowingly place people (whether they share his/her beliefs or not) in such a situation?

This man has the right to build a mosque on private property anywhere in the country. He knows the effect the terror of 9-11 has had on the American people. And he knows 9-11 has brought a negative view of Islam to the United States.

Why would he want to fuel the fire as he surely knows he is?

I don’t think this man, or the men involved in the terrorist attacks are representative of Islam as a whole. I also don’t think that we should turn our backs on the religious freedom this country was founded on.

I do, however,  think that we should not allow ourselves to be mocked by a man who calls himself a religious leader.

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Spiders and Cobwebs

I don’t usually remember my dreams, but I woke up this morning and took a shower. There was a spider on the wall above the shower head and I remembered that I have been dreaming about spiders and cobwebs a lot lately… no … I’ve been dreaming about spiders in cobwebs.

They are usually large spiders, but not scary, flimsy and brown kind of like daddy long legs but not. It’s really the cobwebs that are strange to me. The cobwebs in my dreams have been there for a long time, they are thick and sometimes dusty.  Almost always behind a door that is rarely closed.

I’m not really big into dream interpretation, but I do know the science behind REM sleep. REM is the part of sleep in which we dream; our conscious mind shuts down and the subconscious takes control. This allows all the things we pay little or no attention to consciously, to take center stage and preform behind our closed eyes.

When I think of cobwebs I think of abandoned and/or neglected spaces; boarded up houses, attics, basements, or the far reaching corners under beds and dressers.  To me these are not scary places per-say; but places of possibility. I wonder what treasures could be hiding in such places, forgotten long ago just waiting to be rediscovered.

In my dreams I am not frightened by the cobwebs; rather I find them strangely beautiful and a bit disturbing. I feel as if I knew they were there and that I should sweep them away but for some reason I wouldn’t let myself see them. Now that I’ve found them I’m slightly disgusted with myself for having allowed them to build up so thick and dusty, but, I can’t bring myself to ruin them, knowing how hard the spiders have worked to build them.

Sometimes I find them behind the door because I see a spider crawling to them. It’s like the spiders are leading to this hidden spot.

Sometimes there is someone with me, and they are frightened by the spiders and cobwebs, in this version of the dream I do my best to squish the spiders while leaving the webs intact. All the while thinking that I should just clean them all away.  As I said for some reason I can’t; I also can’t leave them. Once I find the webs I am unnaturally drawn to them. I can’t stop looking at them wondering how long they have been there. The person usually get’s disgusted and mad at me for not clearing the webs away and leaves.

I wonder if these dreams are my subconscious trying to get me to clean the cobwebs from the corners of my brain. I know that there are a lot of memories hidden those corners that I choose to ignore.  Maybe these dreams are my subconscious trying to tell me that the cobwebs have grown too thick, and I need to stop ignoring them.  But how do you confront a memory that you have spent years trying to forget?

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Things that make me smile

my kids, twirling, being silly (of course), my friends, the ocean, hiking, movies that make me think (and usually cry), finishing a good book, long car trips, cuddling, watching the stars, watching the clouds, learning, dancing, babies, Christmas lights, mist, hot showers, chocolate mousse that’s not too chocolaty (I’m weird I know), being weird, bouncing (thank you Hef), wrinkling my nose, camping, surprises (as long as they’re happy surprises), the ni-night song, the sky when it’s a perfect shade of blue, bonfires, raspberries, mice (yes mice), waterfalls, “Fantastic” (search it on you-tube), dancing in the rain, cheesy 80’s, music, the smell of wet pavement, thinking of new things that make me smile, but mostly…. seeing someone else smile.

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Never Underestimate a Child

I renewed my license today and it only took and hour and a half at the DMV. WOOT!! My kids were extremely well behaved while there, however not as excited about the “fast” wait time.  I decided to take them to the playground to run off the boredom of the DMV.

As a single mom I don’t have the luxury (and yes it is a luxury) to follow closely behind my children as they inevitably take off in opposite directions, especially at the playground.  So I plop myself on a bench somewhere in the middle and try my best to keep track of both of them. A little boy probably 10ish sits down next to me. Here is how it went……

Little boy: Hi

Me: Hi

Little boy: I wish I had 2 sticks to play the drums over there. (The center of the playground is a “music center” with bells and drums that have dulled and don’t really work anymore due to exposure to the elements)

Me: That would make it easier to play….. DJ!!! PLAY NICE!!!! (DJ, my son, looks like he’s getting mad and I want to nip any rough housing in the bud)

Little boys sister: Is that your new girlfriend?

Little boy: No, she’s too old for me

Little boy (to me): I’m sorry, it’s not that you’re old or anything just that the age difference between you and me is too great for it to ever work.

Me: Um…. Yeah…. I see your point.

The things that kids pick up on and repeat never fails to amaze me.  Never underestimate the understanding of a child.

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Vacation From Hell

Have you ever had one of those days where it seems everything possible goes wrong? Well that is how my vacation went.

It begins simply enough, I play silly online computer games, meet a sweet, funny, charming, boy on said computer game. We start talking on the phone, we spend hours (once 14 hours) on the phone every day. It seems like we have known each other for years. I’m hooked. Only trouble is he lives in Vegas, literally, the other side of the country.

I, being the hopeless romantic I am, buy a plane ticket and make plans to meet sweet boy in person. Around the same time he gets a new job. Almost instantly the phone calls and texts stop. There is still a month to go before my trip. It’s ok I say to myself; he is working 14 hour days 15 if you count the hour lunch break and is 3 time zones away of course you’re not going to hear from him as much. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m very aware that I could receive a voice mail or text message at my convenience and at least know that I was thought of; I gave him that courtesy with no response from him.

Flash forward to one week before the trip. Still little word from sweet boy. I prepare myself for a solo trip, at least I’ll get some much needed “me time”; maybe I’ll even get some homework done by the pool. Rest and relaxation here I come.

The big day comes I spend 12 hours in airports and on planes. (I almost missed my connecting flight because I was chatting in the smoking lounge, maybe I should have chatted longer… but that’s another story) I finally arrive at Las Vegas McCarron Airport, turn on my phone and find a text message “call me when you get off the plane”. My spirits rise. “He’s here,” I think, “maybe this wont be so bad after all.”

My plane arrived at 8:55pm Vegas time, which is midnight my time. I was tired and travel weary. He took me to my hotel where I showered and climbed into bed. He spent the night that night and we explored all the things you just can’t learn about someone over the phone.

At some point (I don’t remember exactly when) he says to me, “You’re lucky, I don’t have to go into work until 9am tomorrow.” He usually goes in at 6am. Somewhere in the back of my head I think “I’m lucky, what about you? Aren’t we here together?” Leave it to me to ignore warning signs.

The next morning I wake up early (3am, I’m used to being up at 6 my time) and doze while enjoy some snuggle time as he sleeps. “This is nice” I think. When the alarm goes off he 1/2 wakes up I try to get him up but it’s not working. I finally convince him to at least call out which he does.

From the hotel room window you can see mountains in the distance. I mention that it’s too bad it’s 110 in the shade ’cause I would love to go hiking in those mountains. We get dressed and he takes me to a lodge/restaurant in the mountains for lunch. It’s a typical tourist trap place with pricey just ok food but a beautiful setting. It was a very nice day, but he had to leave when we got back to help his dad fix the air conditioning in their house. I’m disappointed, but understand, air isn’t a luxury when you live in the desert it’s a necessity.

He doesn’t call or comeback that night.

The next day I know he has to work, but I’m not sure what time. I read my book in the hotel room, doze a bit, and get some of that me time. 5pm rolls around I’m hungry. I text him, “join me for dinner tonight?” 9:15ish my phone alerts me to a new text message “I’d love to but I can’t I have to help someone with something gonna stop by and grab my toothbrush then have to go”

I flew across the country to see him, he tells me he loves me then he’s gonna blow me off to do “something for someone”. I’m not completely stupid I saw the warning signs, but if you don’t want to see me just say so. I’m pissed and I tell him as much. “I’m standing out side the door” is the next text I get.

I open to door a crack, and flop back into bed. He comes in pee’s grabs his stuff and walks back out. WHAT THE FUCK. I chase him down the hallway, he smells like beer. So he didn’t just get out of work just wants me to think so. What the hell is going on I ask. He says he’s gotta go and can’t explain now but will explain later. After going back and forth like this a few times I say fine Fuck You and head back to the room in tears.

As it turns out he had a 1/2 way decent excuse not to stay with me that night (1/2 way is being generous but at least there seems to have been a reason).  That doesn’t make me feel better, and it doesn’t make coming in and leaving like he did right. I want to go home and I want to go home now.

I didn’t sleep that night, I cried and called some friends and my parents. The latter of which bought me a ticket to come home a that day (a day early). The flight wasn’t until 1:55 that afternoon and it was 6 am. I showered packed and checked out of the hotel by 9 am and took a cab to the airport, I just wanted to be home.

At the airport I checked in for the new flight and tried to cancel the old one. However, was told that because I booked the ticket originally with Orbitz the ticket had to be canceled through them, and they don’t usually give credit you just lose the money. LOVELY. I say through tears that I don’t care I just want to go home. (I realize now that I was over tired and overly emotional) The man behind the counter hands me a box of tissues. I find the smoking lounge and have a 9 dollar drink to calm myself. Then I buy a new book and make my way to security. The security guard looks at my licence then my ticket then back to my licence.

Security guard: “You drive with this?”

Me: “Um… yeah… why wouldn’t I?”

Security guard: “It’s expired”

Me: “Shit… really?”

Yep it really is, I’ve been driving with an expired license for 3 months now. Great. I make my way to the terminal. And proceed to wait the 4 and a half hours left before my flight. Which turns out to be longer because the plane was late getting from it’s previous flight. At least I’m on my way home.

Did I mention that I also got my period somewhere in the midst of all this?

Finally, we board and are in the air late but I have an hour to spare before I miss my connecting flight, I should still have plenty of time. Nope, we have to fly around a storm making us even more late. We land in Detroit at 9:37pm local time. I have exactly negitive 2 mins to make my connection. I’m at gate #70 my connecting flight is leaving out of gate #15. Can this day get any worse? RUN!!!!!!!

They hold the plane for me, winded and out of breath I throw my boarding pass at the lady at the counter and without stopping hurry down the walkway to the plane. As I sit I overhear someone behind me loudly whisper why did she run? She wouldn’t be out of breath and we wouldn’t have had to wait if she had taken the tram. I look out the window and into the terminal. Sure enough there is an indoor over head tram to take passengers from one end of the terminal to the other. FUCK ME. Oh well, I’m going home that’s all that matters. I grab my phone to turn it off and see that I have 3 new texts… skimming them quickly I see that my sometime during the last flight they gave my friends grandmother 24 hours.  I can’t call or write anything meaningful because the captain is on the overhead asking us to turn off all electronic devices. I quickly respond that I barely made my connecting flight and will call as soon as I hit the ground. The rest of the flight was rather uneventful. I slept a bit, and managed to make it home.

My friends grandmother didn’t make it through the night actually she didn’t make it to my frantic text as I was boarding the plane. My license is still expired and I’m out the $250 bucks I spent on the original plane ticket. I’ve also lost all faith in my ability to judge people… or at least listen to myself… and all faith that there is someone out there that wont make me cry.  But hey live and learn right?

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They say that time heals all wounds, but I think they are wrong.

Time defiantly heals some wounds but, the big ones not so much.  The pain from the big ones my be dulled, and the scars may become less noticeable over time.  But the overall hurt; the memory of the pain and the fear of facing it again never really goes away.

Like a child that puts their hand in the fire, the memory of the pain is what protects us from letting it happen again. A survival instinct that embeds the memory in some distant corner of our brain.

What happens if our brain becomes so full of pain that there is no room for anything else?  If everyday your mind is flooded with memories of what was and visions of how painful tomorrow can be, that even things that should be happy and exciting are terrifying.

Is that what happens just before they lock you away?  Or what pushes people over the sides of buildings?  Is that why there are so many people on anti anxiety / depression medications now?  What happened before medication?  Was life not as painful in the years before medication?  Or is our idea of what should be so skewed from reality that we strive for the unachievable, driving ourselves to ruin in the process? If so, how did we get here? What makes us think that life can and should be perfect?

Nothing is perfect; I know that and, I’d bet that any person on the street would agree with that.  Why then, is it so hard to be happy with the life that I have?  I don’t want or expect perfection, I just want to be happy.  Is that too much to ask?

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My Nothing Book

When I was a kid I went to overnight summer camp.  It was an all girls camp called Chimney Corners; Named for the original main lodge which had, you guessed it, a fireplace in each corner.  At Chimney the same girls returned year after year many continuing on become councilors and administrators once they were too old to be campers.  Because each camp session was one month of round the clock togetherness the women and girls at camp became like a summer family.  These people helped to shape who I am, to this day some of my fondest childhood memories are of Chimney.

You may be wondering what this has to do with a nothing book, and surely are wondering what exactly a nothing book is. Nothing Books were a sort of tradition at camp, any camper who spent more than 1 session at Chimney had one.  Nothing Books are books about nothing and everything important. Like a journal they are recordings of who we are how we feel and what we love.  Unlike a journal they are not commentaries on our daily lives but quotes, poems, phrases, songs, drawing, pictures, anything that speaks to us and we deem worth remembering.  To anyone but the owner a Nothing Book is a collection of nothing, to the owner it’s priceless.

On the last night of my first session at Chimney my councilor gave us each a copy of the poem that her councilor gave her on the last night of her fist session many years before.  Almost 20 years later that poem still speaks to me.

After awhile you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and changing a soul And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning, and company doesn’t mean security           And you begin to accept defeats with your head held high, and your eyes open               With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child                                                                      And you learn to build your road on today because, tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain And future’s have a way of falling down in mid-flight                                                                After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much                                  So plant your own garden, and decorate your own soul                                                           Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers                                                              And learn that you really can endure                                                                                            That you really are strong                                                                                                            That you really do have worth                                                                                                   And  you learn and learn                                                                                                             With every good-bye you learn                                                                                                         ~Unknown

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I’ve been thinking alot about moments lately and I wonder what exactly is a moment?

From Dictionary.com <http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/moments&gt;



1.  an indefinitely short period of time; instant: I’ll be with you in a moment.
2.  the present time or any other particular time (usually prec. by the ): He is busy at the moment.
3.  a definite period or stage, as in a course of events; juncture: at this moment in history.
4.  importance or consequence: a decision of great moment.
5.  a particular time or period of success, excellence, fame, etc.: His big moment came in the final game.
6.  Statistics . the mean or expected value of the product formed by multiplying together a set of one or more variates or variables each to a specified power.
7.  Philosophy .

a.  an aspect of a thing.
b.  Obsolete . an essential or constituent factor.
8.  Mechanics .

a.  a tendency to produce motion, esp. about an axis.
b.  the product of a physical quantity and its directed distance from an axis: moment of area; moment of mass.
I always considered life to be made up of a series of moments.  After looking up the definition I think that not only are our lives made up of moments but defined by them.  Moment’s of time, distance, history… well you read the definition too.
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Hello world

Hello world, that’s the auto generated title to the first post here.  I was going to change it but it seems to fit.  This blog will be available for the world to see, why shouldn’t I say hello?  I was planning on introducing myself anyway isn’t hello the polite thing to say when introducing oneself?

According to “Google Translator”, the word Resenar means traveler in Swedish.  I am a traveler of sorts.  We all are.  We travel through time and space going about our daily routines.  With the advent of cell phones, text messages, the internet, Facebook, Myspace, and yes even blogs we travel farther into the lives and minds of people then ever before.  We are kept posted on every detail of our friends, family, loved ones, and even strangers lives if we choose to “listen” (perhaps “subscribe” is a better word here).  We are becoming (if we haven’t already) a digital society.

I am not a “subscriber” I feel like I’m violating my friends and friends of friends privacy by receiving constant updates on their lives, and that they are violating mine.  Who really cares if I friended someone today? Or that I was out with “Jane” or “Joe” last night?  Trouble is all it causes, I can’t count how many friendships have been compromised by nonsense such as this, and that’s just people I know.  Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to such scrutiny?  I can think of only one reason.  As our lives become busier and our routines more complicated we need to find a way to stay connected to other people.  Somehow sitting alone at the computer at 11:30 pm isn’t so lonely when you know that “Suzie” is doing the same, and that she is fighting with her husband “John”.  At least you’re not fighting, just alone with the keyboard and maybe a glass of wine.

That connection is something that “non-subscribers” such as me lack however.  So today I join the ever growing digital society hoping to find what I think we all hope to find; a place where I can be me.  Maybe someone will “listen” and understand, and maybe not.  Maybe someone will “subscribe” to me, and maybe not.  Maybe I’ll post again tomorrow, and maybe not. But here in this digital world I hope to find a place to laugh and to cry a place where someone might find me, a place that doesn’t feel so alone.

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