Back to Aikido

I'm quite excited about the prospect of returning to Aikido class tonight. Mainly, because I love Aikido - love it. More than once I've considered forgoing the old job and becoming an Ushi-deshi (kind of a live in minion) but then what would I do with the cats. And who the hell am I kidding, my 8 hours of paying miniondom is just fine thanks very much. Also, I'd set the goal (loosely as many of my goals are ever set) to earn the rank of Shodan (1st degree black belt) before my next birthday that ends in zero. No need to worry about what that is, if you know it's cuz you have the sense to keep quiet about it and if you don't know, either ask me or demonstrate the sense to keep quiet about it. And yep, I digress.

So, part of the prep for this entails finding the house garments - gi, hakama, belt, tape and braces for the joints that need taping and bracing. And vitamin N, naproxen - my anti-inflammatory agent of choice. Vitamin I Ibuprofen makes me act some kind of rabid so i can't take that one any more.

You can expect periodic updates on my training. The name of this blog is east coast randori - there's a definition of randori in the header, it's as apt a metaphor for life, at least my life as I've ever come across. And while I enjoy the one on one partner work of aikido where you learn the technique, refine the technique and learn to fall with a certain amount of grace. Randori brings it to the next level where rather than reacting to a set technique, you respond to what ever comes your way - a fist to the face, a grab from behind, whatever. Then dispatch the uke (attacker - although it really means the person receiving your technique) across the room. Sweet deal!

Anger, Gratitude and the Whole Ball of Mess

When one has read entirely too much self-help literature as I admittedly have, one gets a big heaping dose of thought on the toxicity of anger. I do not completely disagree because I’m quite cognizant of the effects that my own anger has had on my relationships with others as well as with myself (talking to myself has not always been as pleasurable an activity as it is today). On the other hand, I know damn right well that for more years than I’d care to count anger kept me going and saved my life. In the main I manage it pretty well lately, and no longer rely on my own anger and rage getting me out of bed in the morning (and not because I have the ‘cat stomp on bladder alarm’ made famous by my cat Sharkbutt). So while I do work at being mindful of the whys of my emotions and dig to discern what's at the root of my shit.

So what I'm reading now is called Feeding Your Demons,by Tsultrim Allione and it talks about treating them compassionately. Visualizing my body melting into a nectar that feeds the demon and treating the demon with compassion, until it turns into an ally or a protective daemon. Now, anger ain't my only demon, not by a long damn shot. And most of the demons I've collected I collected before I was a teenager. So I've been holding them at arms length for a long time. Still get flashbacks from some of them. Yeah, PTSD kinds of flashbacks, and I thought I was just twitchy. Turns out it was maybe a little more than then twitchiness on my part.

So today, I'm beyond grateful to the anger and that somewhere deep inside I had the wisdom to use it for what I needed it, and mostly had the good sense to stay out of trouble. It took until I was about forty to be happy to be the person who I saw in the mirror every morning, and I'm grateful that I've hung in that long.

Things That Make You Go Hmmm

Dined with some friends the night before last and then a different group of friends last night as well. With me so far? One of me pals from night before last remarked that she'd heard that if one's cervix is blue in color that indicates that one is pregnant. Now, as a matter of vajayjay generalities I'm not unfamiliar with the turf in question here, and because I have a vajayjay as well as dine from that side of the buffet, I will even go so far as to claim a certain expertise. And I can safely say in my travels I've not ever seen a cervix from the squatting or any other viewpoint. My thought is that if you're dealing with that much ambient light emanating from that region pregnancy is not as much of an issue as getting the flashlight out of that hoohoo. I'm just sayin'. So I broached the question with the last nights gang of friends who, like me, enjoy the other side of the buffet and they've all concurred with my logic here.

And if you happen to be keeping score Euphemisms 3, Anatomically accurate noun - 1.

Deep Thoughts

Ok, I lie, nothing deep about this one. Michelle Obama will be the hottest first lady - ever!!!!

Back

Rev girls 5 for Friday - Vulnerability

1. Is vulnerability something that comes easily to you, or are you a private person?
Not even remotely. Vulnerability has been among my biggest fears.

2.How important is it to keep up a professional persona in work/ ministry?
I don't manage to do it, so I'm not finding it important.

3. Masks, a form of self protection discuss...
I think masks are a form of self protection. I'm more comfortable with the concept of walls, I believe that with me what you see is what you get. But what you see is what I'm willing to show. And that ain't always much.

4. Who knows you warts and all?
My consigliere.

5. Share a book, a prayer, a piece of music, a poem or a person that touches the deep place in your soul, and calls you to be who you are most authentically.
For as long as space endures, for as long as sentient beings remain, may I too remain to dispel the misery of the world.

Hopes and Dreams

Someone pointed out that one's blog is a good place to talk about one's hopes and dreams.

I hope coworker I.L. gets laryngytis real soon, for real long.

I wish Dominos would bring me a hot fudge sundae and a bottle of Aleve.

I wish I wasn't allergic to topical treatments for poison ivy. And it goes without saying I wish I wasn't allergic to poison ivy.

I wish the cats would learn to use the toilet already, damn it to hell.

I've been dreaming about monkeys a lot lately, not sure what that's about.

I had turkey chili for dinner and hope I don't dream about chili. Or Chile for that matter.

Science in the Private Interest

Strains of Thomas Dolby's "She Blinded Me With Science" whirled through my head (note to self: must discuss my "life has a sound track" theory in another blog posting) as I investigated just what no longer fresh hell was percolating in my refrigerator. I'd not be surprised to find that some of that which I cleared out of my refrigerator would cure blindness. I'm guessing I missed more than somewhat the 2006 versions of mess in my fridge. Hmm, vintage yogurt, I should sell it on ebay. Ha!

Why?

Do the dregs of my green drink and the dregs of my protein shake smell like the french fried hell of monkey ass?

Does Sharkbutt the catlet lick my head so much?

Does it feel so damn good to be able to fix my own shirt collar? **Yay for range of motion.**

Range of motion is a beautiful thing

My left shoulder is fucked up, or more accurately I would propose that I've likely got a spot of tendinitis in the long head of my bicepts and there's something awry with the supraspinatus tendon as well, or to keep it short my shoulder is fucked up. My good bud, M, and I swapped massages today and she mentioned that my left shoulder was visibly fucked up. So she went to work and now it is a rare delight of shoulder motion!!!!! Yay!

Are you freakin' kiddin' me with this?

Apparently not, Christ in a cheetoh

I've got an idea, how about instead of looking for the son of God in food products, try reading up on his life and his message. Ya know that whole love another deal.

Hmm

Unlike Christiane Amanpour I have not ever met His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Amanpour Dalai Lama

But I have made the acquaintance of several Tibetan Buddhist monks, most of whom were ordained by HH the DL. And I have found them all to be simply mesmerizing in the serenity that just emanates from them in waves. Luckily, I'd also found it to be contagious.

To Elaborate ...

on the C word used in the previous post, no need to go back. C as in Catholic and my 17 fun filled action packed years in Catholic school, she said ironically. The 17 years are not indicative of an intrinsic slowness on my part that required any repeat performances but of a journey that started when I was 5 and ended with a BS in Accounting - yes, nuns as teachers of the counting of the bean, who knew? It was an interesting journey, crowded with activities such as youth groups, hell, at a point I was even a CCD teacher(Confraternity of Christian Doctrine). And at another point I had a job turning pages of sheet music for a church organist.

There were many intended and unintended benefits, until I started my present job and let my grammar go straight to hell, both my written and spoken grammar were impeccable and the spelling isn't half bad either. But that was of course, the point of being sent to Catholic school. The unintended benefit was in having so intense an exposure to doctrine and dogma, they taught me to reason, and think. Heaven help them.

Meme Thing From Shazza

The rules:
1. Post the link to the person who tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 5 songs you are embarrassed to admit to others that you like and tell why.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post

Here's Shazza's link: !Random!

Ok, here's the twist, even though I'm what people call a lapsed Catholic (pshaw, I ran, I didn't lapse) I spent a lot of time in Catholic school and a lot of time in church and really, the music is the only thing I miss. Appalling, yes, but if it ain't Baroque don't fix it. (I'm here 'til Tuesday try the veal and be sure to tip your hardworking waitresses and bartenders)

1- O' Come O' Come Emmanuel - if your ass is in grade school, they (the nuns) make you sing a lot to keep you busy.

2- Don't recall the title but the lyric - O saving victim open wide the gates of heaven to man below... ya just don't get lyrics like that in Tibetan chants, even if I spoke more than 6 words of Tibetan.

3- Ave Maria - my sister and I occasionally indulge in Mafia movie/chickflick marathons. We get through the slow parts but fastforwarding and chanting 1,2,3, die. But we both agreed that we will not allow this to be played at any funerals we are in charge of, because someone always gets whacked!

4- Mickey by Toni Basil - ok not churchy, but cheerleadery and even more importantly corny as hell.

5- Milkshake by Kelis - this in and of itself is not a terribly embarrassing song, certainly not in the league with church music and Toni Basil. What renders it appallingly embarrassing for me is the Pavlovian effect it has on my ass shaking. I'm generously supplied with ass and so that it doesn't get away from me and hurt anyone, mostly it's clenched. Milkshake rocks it loose!

So anyone reading this, if you feel like it, consider yourself tagged

Well, Speaking of Getting Out of MY HEAD

and back in my body. Wore a brand new bullet proof sports bra today, the puppies where perky, the puppies were not moving. The puppies were trapped like rats. And typically if I'm upright the puppies are brassiered, but when I got to my car this afternoon, I went all free willie on the twins. There is nothing that quite grabs the attention like sore breasts. Trust me.

But I Liked This One and Sharkbutt Did not

He says it has too many words.

Sharkbutt and I enjoyed this

Choices

Every once in a while the universe manages to give me a semi-brisk swat upside the head, a reminder to please pay attention. Starts off gently, but if I ignore it for too long the reminders become less gentle and more profound. Having learned quite some time ago that there really are no such things as coincidences, I slowly begin to acknowledge what I've apparently always known. My work here isn't done yet, as much as I'd like to coast at my previous accomplishments of mucking out the stalls of my past, I'm reminded, nope, not done yet, not by a long damn shot. As much as I like to believe I've accepted the past as reality, there are aspects of it that I go out of my way to avoid thinking about, feeling about and exploring in order to have them fit into the whole as opposed to monitoring their expulsion to the corner. Unbidden they roar to the surface, and I'm off on a roller coaster ride but this time of my own volition. Reminding myself that equanimity is nice fucking work if you can get it, but not at the cost of numbing out. Having spent as much time as I did as a blackout drunk, I know that numbing out doesn't really work too well for me. Nor did the rage addiction style of numbing out, nor is the bulk in which I've wrapped myself to help preserve the illusion of invulnerability by keeping most ordinary kinds of vulnerability at bay. Nor does this whole bliss kitten meditation addicted trip I've been on of late. Which I was trying to pretend that I didn't know. So it's time for me to wade on into the middle of the tumultuous essence that I've been skirting the sides of for a little too long now. The good news to me at least is that I will get out of my head for a bit and back into my body and who knows, perhaps my right goddamned mind. Whatever that is.

Beach

I went to the beach with the fabulous Ms. S and the amazing JT yesterday. It was a delightful day at the beach, cooling breeze, not too too sunny. Not terribly crowded and the company was excellent. I have always been a big beach fan and periodically go and sit alone or with some of my grown up friends. But it's always delightful to go with JT, his excitement at being at the beach reflects my own and while I'm not entirely certain he finds it as soothing as I do. I'm not entirely certain anyone finds it as soothing as I do. The time I've spent at the beach has been the secret to any remaining mental health I possess.

I get the sense

that my moon is in Uranus, or perhaps my head is in my anus. This is just a collection of how well my day went.

1 - Installed panty shield sticky side up. Was not prepared for the depilatory efficiency.

2 - Whilst in my office, gave by sunburnt cleavage a scratch and discovered Stripe the cats morning antibiotic dose in said cleavage.

3 - Coworker L had obvious bruising and swelling to ring finger (this was obvious from across the room) knowing L is on umpteen kinds of cardiac meds including blood thinners, I suggested she go see the nurse. Given my own experience with the nurse, I should not have been surprised that L was sent back with an ice pack. The nurse suggested she take a Benadryl or two thinking that something had bitten her. So good, the mice probably have their own pets that bite.

4 - One word - shart.

5 - Burnt the torilla chips whilst mesquite smoking them and dropped one of them down me cleavage. Joy more itching.

I will leave it there for now, noting that it is not 9 pm yet.