Run For RUby is up and running and the Magic Foundation has done an amazing job at developing a separate page for our run. Please visit the site and if you are able to donate any funds it is much appreciated.
{October 27, 2006} Up and running
{October 25, 2006} debate me now
I owe my passion for politics to my parents, “There’s a lot more going on in the world if you educate yourself. You’re not the only one going through this. Here. Read. I said Read.” From the age of …I don’t remember I began reading everything I can get my hands on. I’m her. That girl on the bike at the gym with a book and power flipping through a magazine at the same time. I’ve always been an eager and enthusiastic student when politics or rules are involded. I’ve needed to learn how to get around them.
I learned early that participation was paramount and that change could be just an effort away. I drew up campaign posters for national candidates, pass out voter registration forms, and made countless calls for initiatives I believed in (like stem cell research). In the mornings before school I’d get ready and listen to the morning news reports with my Mother. In the evenings she’d edit my government papers about national security, terrorism, and racism in the south. It never occurred to me that this might all make me an enormous dork. I’d loved it all and turned up the AM radio station.
In grade school I began taking up my own causes and bringing “lost puppy dogs home” I tried to protect the forests, stop animal testing, adopt a child by sending money to Somalia because Sally Struthers said to. Generally, I wanted to save the world with one lemonade stand or dog walking service at a time.
In high school we moved from the North to the South I became obsessed with free speech, I rallied against censorship, I was for gays in the military, and drew attention to self-segregation. I wrote passionate papers about how freedom and rebellion was at the heart of our democracy and the terror occurring in the West Bank. I wasn’t above invoking these themes to denounce the tyranny of dress codes and curfews. If I want to wear a concert shirt to school, it’s my right.
I’d have considered running for class president had we stayed in one place for long. It wasn’t until college that I developed a moderate love of the law and majored in political science…after spending 3 yrs as a pre-med major because it was more practical. I wanted out of school. Poli Sci provided a quicker route. Since then, I’ve gone back to medicine and questioned if law was the way to go? It doesn’t always pay the bills….unless you’re running from it.
Maybe some always know what their destination is. Similar to how some are born into finer things. They understand they will only need to work a few more years until their trust fund kicks in. A man and a woman lock eyes from across the oom, set the hook and are anchored knowing they will be together for eternity. Perhaps, it works that way with some. For Generation X and Y’ers finality is known to be an undetermined factor. “You never know what can happen. Sign on the dotted line.” Finality makes me anxious. Knowing something is definite and not a constant makes me cagey and tied to a series of open ended questions. It’s no secret I question everything and try not to freak out when a phone call comes through as promised or a favor performed for the sake of it. Because they care. What? Similar to how choosing a definite career path FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE makes me squeamish, the way relationships do. I fear giving to much, working to many hours and not getting a proper return on my investment. It makes me want to bake cookies and feel domestic, I’m anything but domestic. In junior high I wanted to be a chef and spent an entire summer cooking for our family of seven. My brothers thought it was a fantastic idea while my sisters said, “Enough with the cookies.” My sisters have managed to say that about some of the men I’ve dated as well. However, they’ve always supported me in a Little Mermaid fashion whatever career path I take. Sales Diva, lawyer, doctor, hand model, race car driver, dog trainer, cop, beach bum, hand model, physical therapist, National Four Square Champ, lobbyist, clothes designer, gymnast, Ferris wheel operator, debate writer.
“Dad says you want to be a fighter pilot now?”
“That was yesterday after I read an article about a need for more skilled pilots willing to go over seas. Today on a bender to quit this medical thing and taking off for Europe.”
“You’re kidding.”
Sigh, “Yeah. A girl can dream and that’s not very practical.”
.
{October 23, 2006} i couldn’t have said it any better
He always knows just what to say when I can’t quite figure it all out. The last few months I’ve been having a blatant breakdown at 29 years old and questioning how I want to spend the next 30 years of my working career. I’ve tossed around every idea. Not to long ago I wanted to be a race car driver in Italy. I’d simply sell everything and begin marketing myself. My next brillant desire was to be radio city music hall dancer, a physical therapist, or work on becoming the national domino champ. Perhaps he’s had enough of my “what if I did this” or I’ve just sent in my resume to the Jim Rose Circus because it was the silliest thing I could come up with. Next to being a Cheetah Girl that is. Perhaps, I should have been surprised that he took the time to write the letter and not his Am Ex number, he’d never do that.Then again, he is my Dad.
Email this morning titled: From Dad (sent from Mom)
I know you are trying to decide what you want to do. It seems like everyday you have a new idea: dental sales in Las Vegas, Bike Sales wherever, oil and gas in Oklahoma, flight attendent, etc. My advice is to decide what you want to do, not what will give you the most money. then come up with a plan on doing that thing. Make a list of what you need to do to have that career/job, and what sacrifices, if any, you will have to make to get it.
In your twenties it is not of primary importance to be doing something you enjoy, but as you enter your thirties you will find that changes. Things that were important two years ago won’t matter at all two years from now. In your twenties you spend your time in the periphery of your life, with people that are fun but not fulfilling, with activities that are exciting but not rewarding.
As you grow into the center of your existence it becomes geometrically more important that you make choices based upon what is critical to your happiness and well being, and that you work like hell to make those choices become part of your life. Study techniques, employers look for something different from a thirty year old than they do from a twenty-five year old. Before you send an e-mail to someone important, send it to yourself first and read it out loud to make sure it expresses what you want it to express, and that it is accurate in every way…from thought to grammar (I still do this). Go to the library and read Steven Covey’s 7 habits of highly effective people….easy read and great ideas.
And most important, don’t give up on yourself and don’t blame others. Self pity is a waste of energy, and people who blame others all the time have made the decision to be a vicitm. And victims are never happy because their life is controlled by others. Be positive. Winners win because they believe they can win. Losers sit around doing nothing because they think they can’t do what they want.
Luv,
Dud
{October 17, 2006} how to make my sister move
I’m working on a good post - but it’s going to have to wait until tonight. Till then tell me what you think of the site my sister and I have put together.
AHEM.
Car - i need the paypal account information to post on the site. Now will you send it to me - ya slacker. Did you get the tutu’s yet?
GO HERE http://runforruby.wordpress.com/
{October 11, 2006} Because You Said So
Because I couldn’t have said it any better than Leah Stewart in The Myth of You & Me
“ ….as I hold her hand I’m holding hands with the person she is and the person she was when I first met her, and she’s holding hands with the person I am and the person I used to be. They’re all there- all the people we were and will be, linked like a chain of paper dolls, girls and women, unfolding from,….”
….the first moment I knew she loved me no matter how many times I tested her strength. She taught me that a person that lays still remains a noun in a history book. A person in action is a forward thought of evolved motion and that no matter how many times someone says, “No,” a gal has to do what a gal has to do and, “Buck Up.”
Happy Birthday my Friend. Happy Birthday Mom.
Luv,
J-Bird
{October 9, 2006} why couples shouldn’t drink and fight
I was good, real good. Friday night I released myself from all plans after deciding it was okay to miss another party. After all, I did respond with a “Maybe” on the evite and the fun would continue with or without my presence. Surely, I would be asleep by eleven and awake in time to meet the running group. I was determined to have a low key evening to ensure a restful nights sleep. The powers of my friends partying ways would have none of it.
11:02 pm - Hey Jess its Trey – there are mad dance circles at A38. Get here now.
11:55 Aje – “You out? Where? Hello?”
12:02 Unrecognized number – Voicemail message
12:55 “Jess its Upshaw and Jenkins – where are you?”
1:15 Unrecognized number – Voicemail message
1:52 Unrecognized number – Voicemail message
All of these calls went unanswered but not without doing enough injustice to make yours truly feel like a pea was slipped under the mattress. Saturday morning as I laced up my shoes I listened to the unanswered drunken phone messages. Now, it’s typical of my friends to call me at odd hours as their night progresses but the unrecognized number sent me into a running fury. The hour this person had chosen to call was absurd and down right insensitive because I do not speak with this person on a regular basis.
I digress.
Last Sunday evening while still in Vegas I sat with my legs propped up at Rounders and my new Vegas friends by my side.
“Jess, this is Chris. Claire thinks you and I are having an affair.”
“A what? Which Chris is this?”
Click.
Now, I’ve never been the jealous type and can usually see things pretty clear when situations arise but, that wasn’t always the case. Years ago at 23 I regret that I was that girl in a relationship. I was childish. Whiny. I questioned everything he did and was codependent. I wanted all of him and to be needed, wanted, and loved. What I got was two hands around my throat trying to shake the life out of me. The next day, I moved out.
I listened to the unrecognized number voice mail. Each carrying the same message. It was THEM. They were fighting and somehow I was involved.
VERBATIUM
Call One
“This is Chris and Claire I’m Chris Soleil s friend. For some reason Claire and I are arguing again tonight and she thinks that you and I are in some sexual escapade. I got your number from Soleil last week. Can you put something on your blog about the fucking absurdity and idiocy of this call. I’m sorry for bothering you but I will tell you something – I will never date a 21 year old. I’m sorry a 22 year old. This just sucks. I was immature once too I guess. And I know your helping your friend and I’m sorry I hope she’s doing well.”
Call Two
“Hey Jessica it’s Chris and Claire again. Claire is still having some psychotic episode that I am dating you and that you and I are in constant contact. Hey Claire come on…what do you think about Jessica? Come on Claire you just told me. Tell her about how you and I are having a sexual episode. You going to tell her Claire? Now you’re quiet. I don’t know Jess maybe she’s a closet lesbian and has the hots for you. I don’t even know Jessica.
Silence. (I imagine they are having a dead stare contest now)
Just put something on your blog about how we are being morons. This bitch is fucking sick – just be glad you’re normal.”
I began my run in a fury and was annoyed of being brought into their relationship. I barely know this couple. What I do know is several months ago it was believed they were broken up. Chris was out with his friends and running around town enjoying the “single life.” He’s 33 and she’s 22. During this time Soleil ran into Claire. As couples break up one does what they can to remain friends with both sides. Soleil asked Claire how she was doing after the break up. Claire came back with the most unassuming answer, “What? Everyone thinks we broke up but we never did.? Who is saying this?” Chris did.
At 22 years old I was as insecure as a child lost in a shopping mall. I didn’t know which way to go or how to seek out help for myself. I was trying to find my way and the man I was dating wasn’t enough to make me feel safe. I allowed myself to become lost in a relationship and pour my being into him. My school, life, and routine revolved on his axis. I doubted myself because I was lost in a relationship that I held on to. A relationship I knew was fleeting from the moment of hello. I held on to something that was nothing. At 29 I’m much more grounded and secure with myself and the relationships I CHOOSE to have and not the one’s that have me.
Because you asked Chris.
Claire,
You are in medical school. You’re smart, athletic, and beautiful and dating a man who makes you doubt his love. One of my favorite sayings is ‘if you have to ask the question then you already know the answer’ but that’s not the full case in this situation. I think what you are truly doubting is the validity of you being committed to this relationship. Not now or ever have I had anything “going on” with your Chris. “Borrowing” other peoples men just isn’t my style, I’m far too selfish to share men. I want one all to myself.
A hang up in many relationships is that a couple argues for the sake of arguing. I grew up in a house like that. It was a rare occasion when Mom and Dad raised their voices but when they did, the heated discussion wasn’t about the issue at hand. Long days, work, kids, money, health, stress, and an outstanding question of the future made them fight.
Claire do you really think Chris and I are having a lurid sex affair? If so, I will send you the video, there is always a video.
You will figure it out one day and probably regret this incident. As for him – well – that’s for you to decide.
***
As for the both of you, handle your own mess.
{October 5, 2006} life as we know it
On my run this morning I passed the monkey bars. A little girl finished swinging over the last rung and landed a few feet away from me kicking up a cloud of dust. “Oh,” she says grinning at her accomplishment and offers a “sorry.”
I smile, “No problem.” As I continue to run past her she yells, “Can you tie my shoe?” One thing I have learned about children is that to them adults are interchangeable. Anyone of similar mother like age and hair color may be asked to take care of daily tasks for them. I bend down realizing at close range that this girl is slightly older than two of my nieces and slightly younger than two of them. I tied a double knot for good measure then watched her climb the short ladder on one of the monkey bars.
“Now you have to watch me,” she calls out, “this time I’m going to get it right.”
I find myself holding my breath as she swings out a right arm then a left, reaching for the metal rungs and curling her knuckles over them even though it is an unlikely reach given the length of her arms and space between the bars; I continue to watch until she’s safely across to the other side. Suddenly I become aware that her Mother, Guardian, whomever is nowhere in sight. Quickly I turn on my heel and sitting ten feet behind me she’s smiling and offers a wave. She’s one of those naturally feminine beauties with raven red hair, long legs, and thin arms. “Sorry,” she offers, “she’s friends to anyone with red hair.”
In unison we laugh. Everyday should start with humoring a perfect stranger and seeing through the eyes of a child. I still feel like crossing the monkey bars is a task I’m trying to perfect. Problem is, they spaces between keep getting wider and wider.
