Mortal Words

Every day you live, you are technically closer to death. Sobering thought. It reminds me of when I worked in the psychiatric hospital with the inpatient adolescents. We had one particularly inquisitive young lady who would walk around the unit and ask, "Am I going to die?" over and over and...over. Again. All day long.

One day, a clever medical resident answered her with, "Why, yes, you are. Someday. We all are going to die." Though it startled (and amused) me at the time, it also seemed to calm the poor kid down. And it's often replayed in my head over the years because it's simple and true: yes, we are all going to die.

You just hope you can go out with dignity and at an appropriate age. That last part is always funny to me because, the older you get, the younger that age seems to feel once you reach it. Doubtful you'll ever turn over a birthday and think, "Well, this is an appropriate age to die! See ya later then!"

Today, I discovered that despite my youthful appearance, mental age of twelve years, and tendency to wear my hair in a ponytail, I am getting older. I've begun to face up to the fact: as much as I'd hoped never to grow up and mature, I can't help but age.

Cooincidently, HBO Documentary Films is debuting their series on Alzheimer's disease. I've TiVo'd all the episodes, but I haven't brought myself to watch them yet. Tonight, I"ve started down that road and discovered how depressing and fascinating it all is. The idea of growing old is not scary in and of itself - but the thought of losing your sense of spirit is terrifying.

It's that last part which causes the fear. What happens when you no longer remember those tidbits of memories which make you who you are? What do you really become then?I hope desperately that I won't ever find out - not that I"d really know in that state whether or not I knew. But...still. It's all just another good reason to write my thoughts down, to keep faith in words. Later on down the road, I might appreciate it more that I could ever imagine.

And if not, I'm certain it will provide a chuckle here or there - whether from me, or those closest to my heart.

Guess What? I'm Back, Baby!

I've begun to emerge from my long fog of "word hiatus" and thus, my posts should go on from here as previously scheduled. In the past month, I have experienced/realized/enountered the following:

**I re-examined my mental health and decided it needed attention. And I am giving it its due care. Have you heard how much I love therapy? I could literally go everyday...and I"m not kidding. (Though, my plan only includes weekly sessions...for the time being.)

**I've immensely enjoyed the Penguins' playoff success...and thorougly detested their recent loss in Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Semi-Finals...and I have faith they can pull out a win in Game 7 to advance. Let's Go Pens! (Amidst the warm, spring weather, I feel a draw toward cold Canadian hinterlands this time of year and find myself cheering for "blood on the ice!")

**I visited Twin Peaks on several weekends, from the comfort of my cozy new bed. And though I never left my home, the trip was as "trippy" as I remembered and more so. I will visit again in the future, I am certain. (Thank goodness for the Definitive Gold DVD Box Set - David Lynch, I could kiss you!)

**My job became almost unbearably ridiculous, but this has motivated me to get my act together and think about my future. This thinking stage could last a while, but it's a new start anyway.

**The sunny days have been heaven and I've noticed the greenest greenery around me, awakening me from my "winter coma" just in time for new flip-flops and sundresses. (Of each, I have purchased several versions and I relish the chance to wear them!)

**Brett Favre insists on continued torment of my psyche and I've decided he should concentrate a bit more on his own emotional health, as I think he may be mentally ill. I try so hard to ignore his repeated attempts at harrassment. I've only mildly succeeded, as expected. Really? Deja vu all over again...

**I have a renewed focus on my writing. And I vow to keep it, no matter what happens in the next month, or two or three.

Ahhh, the sweeness of a rejuvenated soul!

Life Just Is...

I'm up and ready to go - though not by choice. The past few weeks have been a struggle, internally and outwardly. It's tough sometimes to push yourself to keep going and going when all you'd like to do is crawl under the covers with a good DVD marathon (like, Twin Peaks or 90210's Fourth Season).

Nothing bad happened, no trauma. Just life. Sometimes, that's enough to drive someone back to bed for a while. I am confident it will pass and as the days get warmer and longer and brighter, my energy and mood will follow right along.

Until then, I'll count my many blessings and keep right on "keepin' on." The week's bright spots will help: NHL hockey playoffs and the Pens' upcoming match-up with Philly, a new book to read.

And my sincere belief in all things rosy.

Anniversary of Sorts

It really stinks when you have to work harder than you would like and it robs you of your fun time. I can't exactly complain because my job is flexible and mostly cake, but still. I like to blog, read, watch movies, and screw off on the internet better than I like to work - even at a flexible, cake job.

But, enough of that. A year ago this week, on the eve of the NCAA men's basketball final, I decided to start a blog. The next day, before the Monday night activities, I wrote my very first blog post. I hoped this exercise would get me writing more, hopefully push me into a motivated, disciplined state. I had big, fantastical dreams of getting that memoir finished or being discovered, plucked from obscurity and handed a super-duper contract for my unique, insighful ideas.

Okay, not really. But I did hope to better my written skills and become a more consistent writer. I think it probably has happened, to an extent. I find myself more expressive, more often. I no longer have fear of others reading my work. My writing has become (I think) more streamlined, my words chosen carefully to be succinct.

Mostly, this blog provides a real opportunity to connect with other people. I've had some random comments from strangers, which shows folks stumbled upon my words and read them all the way through. That is kind of scary and neat all at the same time.

So, hopefully the next year will bring even more fun. And hopefully, that basketball game tomorrow night will be just as exciting as last year. I know I live in North Carolina right now, but...Go Spartans!

Dancing Stars of Nonsense

I have a love/hate relationship with several things and though I try to keep it under control, I just can't sometimes. Such is the case with "Dancing With the Stars."

After last time, I swore off the whole thing. Brooke Burke and her do-nothingness drove me to the brink of insanity, and the judges are ridiculous. (Except Bruno, who is kind of awesome.) I really and truly meant the words, "I'm not watching anymore. That is it."

And then I saw the new lineup of stars and, well, damn it. I had to tune in. Shawn Johnson, for crying out loud. The only other way they could hook me bigger would be a Pittsburgh Steeler. Gymnastics is my other true weakness and so, here I am again, beholden to that (has to be) rigged Monday night fiasco.

I don't watch the whole thing live, as those days are far behind me. There are highly specified rules. I DVR the episode Monday night and only watch after it is completely over or the next day. I only watch the dances, except for my favorites for whom I will sit through the practice highlights. (This is currently Shawn, Steve-O, and my little pocket cowboy, Ty Murray.) I don't watch the judges' comments if I hear any negativity. And, most importantly, I can not hear one peep from Samantha Harris, lest my entire head explodes right here in my living room.

After all these built-in safeguards, I still find myself riled up frequently. There is no Tuesday results show for me, save the last five minutes when I see who is going home. And even so, I can't keep myself from angry outbursts - and it's only like the second elimination. Ugh.

Why must I get so deeply involved in this ridiculous so-called competition? Because I like to feel the passion that comes with being involved. The win is made so much better when you've gone the distance. Likewise, the loss is that much more bitter, but with the highs come the lows.

I wish I could feel a different way about it, but I can't. We'll see how it all plays out, but so far it is not looking so great. When Teletubby clone Steve "The Woz" Wozniak is still bumbling around and Denise Richards is gone already, you know you might be in for another long, long season. (Not that she was good, but she could at least walk straight. I suspect the Cloris Leachman phenomonen...)

I'll try to remain somewhat sane throughout, though I won't make any promises. Obviously, after last season's vow never to return to this forsaken show, we all know how those promises work out anyway.

Reimagine Your History, Kids

My family insists I practice "revisionist history" on a regular basis, meaning I tend to "creatively reimagine" events from the past. I deny this vehemently and really believe my own press - I don't think I do it. It's just that everyone remembers the facts a certain way and I contend my memories are closest to the truth. So...there you go.

This past week, I have partaken in two films where imagined history is a large part of the plot. The first is "Watchmen" which is popular, mainstream, anxiously awaited, and gloriously violent in its heightened over-the-top fashion. I enjoyed it, even though I have no familiarity with the graphic novel and did not know the story going in.

The strong movie style fascinated me nonetheless, and part of that dealt with the film's ability to place the fictional Watchmen in all the important parts of history. It created a brand new version of the familiar world in a satisfying way, so that you felt the on-screen events truly could have been just that way. That blended reality with pure fantasy made for a deep, insightful trip into a strange, yet plausible universe of moral and cultural dilemmas. This is just the type of film you can discuss for hours afterward - always a treat.

The other film was completely unknown to me before my sister alerted me to its showings on IFC. Unfortunate, really, that more people haven't seen it and I hope that changes after reading my highly influential blog posts. (Sarcasm intended, naturally.) It is called "CSA: Confederate States of America." From this point forward, whenever I am asked of the most terrifying film ever, this will be my response.

This is a mockumentary from a very highly reimagined, scary world that could have been, at least in the minds of these particular film makers. After the South won the "War of Northern Aggression" the Confederate States of America went through, as you might imagine for yourself, radically different experiences. In this version of reality, Britain has made a "documentary" which chronicles this new America's history, from Abraham Lincoln's exile to Canada to present day high-tech gadgets to keep your slaves from taking off.

This film is a marvel, in that the documentary - done in PBS-style, with dry narration and clips from "films" made throughout history - is spot-on. The acting matches in such a truthful, authentic manner, you're sucked into thinking it could be real. (In fact, I had moments of panic when I thought of some redneck stumbling onto this, not knowing what it was, and thinking it was some racist, facist propoganda for their ridiculous positions. Then, I tried to tell myself that most stereotypical rednecks don't stumble upon the Independent Film Channel very often...or, at least, I hope not.)

The clincher is it comes complete with fake commercials - for pills you get from your "veterinarian" to keep slaves calm and submissive, offensively modeled fried chicken establishments, and horribly named tobacco products, among others. This is what really crawled under my skin. Though I admire the finished product, I took a break in the middle so I could watch from beginning to end: it just felt too disturbing. And when I did get to the end, I found an even bigger surprise awaiting me which provoked even more feelings of unease. (I won't say what that is, because you are all going to rush out and watch this!)

So, history reimagined both made me think and scared me out of my wits. But, it intrigued me too. Because history is precarious, prone to differences we live with just because that's the way it ended up - and we don't often spend hours upon hours thinking of how it could have been, given a few alternate moves on the board. And as strange as things seem to be, it seems things have worked out okay for us so far - as compared to the terror-ific alternatives.

I hope when we look back from ten or twenty or one hundred years in the future, we still think the same thing.

Mad About March Madness

January and February are pretty blah months, when you think about it. Even though I love the events during that time (The Super Bowl, The Oscars, etc.) the actual time of year is pretty depressed. It's cold, it's snowy, it's dark, it's dreary.

But, the past few days have been filled with sunshine and warm breezes and, though I've been super busy in my life, it fills me with an energy I desperately need. And to top it all off...

It's Selection Sunday this weekend, which means the NCAA March Madness is upon us! Yea! Something to look forward to each day and night, game upon game where you cheer for teams you may have never heard of before and get involved in the latest, greatest Cinderella team of the tournament. Which was sw-eeeeeet when that team happened to be WVU a few years ago. ("You've been Pittsnogled!")

I'm ready to get my brackets down to a science and I can't wait to see how things turn out. Things like this make odd bedfellows, as they say, when you find yourself rooting for schools and people you otherwise might detest, or ignore completely. As of now, Florida is one bubble team on the outs for the big dance and that alone is one early mark in my "win" column. We'll see what else comes to pass on Sunday evening.

Ahh, it's nice to have some big time sports competition to distract me from regular, real life. Time to cut down some nets!