Day 18...MEOWWWWWWWWW

One of the best ways to create the life you want is to surround yourself by people who inspire you to do just that.



I need to discuss my model of a working AMAZING relationship. But first let's set the mood.



DC - 2005. Townhouse Tavern. I am in the bar sitting next to Adam, the HOTTIE from Canada studying clinical psych at Howard. He was an ex college football player, 6'5 Scottish and Greek GOD of a man. However, to quote Dodgeball , and possibly to quote it incorrectly, he was either "Possibly gay or awkwardly Canadian". I could never quite figure it out.



In walks this vivacious sophisticated blond with an attractive redheaded confident mate.


They sit down next to us...............within five minutes she was commenting on the energy between me and Canadian Boy.


I knew at that moment this was a friendship match in heaven.


We have one major cross to bear..........she is a Red Sox fan. But I forgive her as it is more of a condition of her geography than lack of the sophistication needed to be a Yankees fan.

I can continue to explain how we became friends. That is not important. What I want to share are my observations of their relationship. For anonymity's sake, and to allude to their love of all things British, we will call them Sid and Nancy.


I want to be married.
I want a family.
I don't want any of those things without love.
I won't settle just to have status .
Even at my loneliest
I know I can't be with someone I don't love.
The price is too steep
Nancy waited for the right man. She did not compromise. And yet she is so real. So human. I imagine that someone who would stick to their beliefs to be so hard headed. So certain of themselves. And it is not that she isn't a strong woman. It is that, she is so capable of being vulnerable.

It is an exercise in reality to decipher how your vision of what someone "should" be, and how they actually are......

I guess I see a lot of me in Nancy......and I know she feels the same. She inspires me. She is an example of a woman who innately knew she was worth the wait!

And believe me, she is.



I spend a lot of time with Sid and Nancy. Never a dull moment. They are so in love.

But it is not the sugar coated annoying bullshit love.

It is not the honey, sweetie, mushy nauseating love, though they do purr and meow quite frequently.
It is honest, gritty.
They fight, but not for long.
They have a deep knowledge of each other. Imperfections and idiosyncrasies. Gifts and attributes.

They make each other laugh.

They cheer each other on.

They put each other down for a joke and smile and move on to the task at hand. There is always a sexual energy. You know they "do it" and not only missionary.



They are complete by themselves. And they are complete together. That is astounding to me. Just think about that. They have not lost any part of themselves to be together. They simply (yeah right) built on top of an already strong existing structure - that structure being Sid. Nancy. Now Sid and Nancy. But also at times just Sid. Or Nancy.



I go to visit them twice a year. To recharge. To replenish. To remind me that it is OK TO WAIT for the right one. It is the right thing to do. It is what I want.

Thank you Sid and Nancy.


Meow!



Hope and Love,

Soul Dancer

Day 17...Humble Thanks

I would like to thank every single person who has sent me comments on my past few posts regarding changing behavior.
There have been some amazingly helpful ideas.
Those ideas, the positive energy, as well as an INSANELY good night's sleep(thank you JESSICA - though I am thinking you gave me the date rape drug!) leave me excited and humble. I am recommitted to living life to my fullest potential, especially when people who don't even know me feel compelled to:

a. wish me well
b. commend my courage
c. provide me with constructive ways to deal with negativity


WOO HOO!
This is an amazing day. A new day.
Some positive things going on.......................

We are having clean up day at work. lame lame lame emails have been passed around - lamer notices have been posted. BUT, it is a cleaning, a rebirth. I have tons of shit on my desk and


it will be reviewed
it will be regarded
it will be discarded


hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm how can that relate to me in other areas? (DUH!!)

I am going to my friend's house (ruffie girl - actually she is a pretty damn amazing woman!!) to get some new furniture. She is leaving for an amazing job and has offered me a coffee table, mirror, and ottoman. ANY furniture is needed furniture. I live like a freshman boy in a single college dorm.


No couch
Women who are in my apt are close enough to sit on my bed with me
Men who are in my apt won't be sitting - unless I am underneath them

No tables
A great bed
A big TV
and wonderful bookshelves loaded with amazing authors who have clarified my life, changed my life, and generally inspired me.

Anyway, I am picking up this furniture after work. I may not be in DC for longer than one more year TOPS, but:
It is time to put down some roots.
It is time to dig in embrace the life I have created here.

A life in which I have met some amazing people. People whom I will be seeing tonight. People who just may be so important that they can change the world......it is a crazy thought to sit with a person and be thinking,

"I am having a drink with a staffer for a senator. One day she will be calling the shots and effecting positive change. And she is MY friend!"

Finally, I am headed home tomorrow for the first time in five weeks, which to some may seem like nothing, but to me means:

Five weeks without Kyle

Five weeks without Thomas

No sex (Longer than 5 weeks - not going there, in the wake of thinking positive. I say I WILL HAVE SEX, not ponder how long it has been since I have had it!)

All of the above will be remedied by Labor Day. It is a good day today!

Hope and Love,

Soul Dancer

Day 16... Home Schooling

Composition

Where do we learn to hate ourselves?
Where do we learn to doubt ourselves?
What inside us makes us feel ugly...when others proclaim
We are beautiful, special and unlike no other?
Do we hear that and think that different is somehow worse?
Can we ever accept is as a gift?

Can I ever accept me?

Math
<

not

>
-
not
+
dividing myself up into minuscule empty bits
rather than multiplying positive images

Lab
My question:

Is it possible to stop one's brain from going to the places it
seems most comfortable

Hypothsis:
Yes this is possible

Method:
control negative behavior via the following steps:

1.identify the thought

2. at that moment STOP what you are doing and breathe

3. immediately replace that thought with two positive ones

4. keep doing this until one day you notice that the first
thought is not a negative one

Check and interpret your results:
one day i will NOT fuck myself over with a new man, by
maintaining a well earned and deserved sense of calm

Share your results with the community at large:
read my book and when i am married to Justin Timberlake,
you will know I succeeded!!!!

History:
I am questioning my past relationships. Did I ever even love
those men? Eddie, yes for sure. He was an angel, and still is.
But others.........was i just projecting what it was that I thought
I wanted onto them? My savior complex. My obsession with coal
that becomes a diamond.

This is a scary fucking thought...am I that good at rationalization
that I just spin around playing pin the love on the man/donkey??

Do I know what it is to love someone, not because I decided that
I wanted to love someone at that particular moment, but because
a deep meaningful knowledge of a particular man led to the
development of organic, ACTUAL emotions.

And given that premises, I have to say, I have only truly loved
Eddie and the ex. Because with both we were friends first. It was
a slow simmer rather than a deep fryer of fat nasty lust
(oooohh tastes so good at first).

I am getting into some crazy stuff here. History's repetitive nature
is quite astounding. Can the cycle stop by identifying the insanity?

Homework:
Develop a framework for success. I find that I am knee deep in the
goo that is my life. I am angry because these connections, these
realizations have never been made. I am not going to give in to that.
I am going to CHANGE the behavior.

For now, I am going to sleep.......this assignment is hefty. I need to
gear up for it!

Hope and love,

Soul Dancer

Day 15... Home Economics

Pattern: a combination of qualities, acts, tendencies, etc.,
forming a consistent or characteristic arrangement: the
behavior patterns of teenagers.

Definition and example both so poignant.

I wrote earlier that I have lost touch with the energy that
was present in the beginning of this journey. In the midst
of my sadness today came an old and often times experienced
revelation.

I weave destructive patterns with men.

This is not about a man I may see and want to sleep with
.....but rather the pattern of men like the engaged ex.
or like the most current obsession - we will call him Mr. BW

Pattern for soul dancer's destructive damsel's dress:

1. canvas - Any man who makes me flutter upon first sight.
This is usually someone slightly out of reach or hard to get.
In this case a big to do in my professional life. He may or may
not be single. He does flirt back, but never consistently. He is
attractive and definitely sexy in the way that inspires imaginary
posts like Day 11! Essentially, he is a challenge of epic proportions.

2. color - this is the fun part of the pattern. Brush strokes across
a page. We talk, we smile, we giggle. Vivid colors are splashed
in the dull grey cubicle land I inhabit. Getting coffee, seeing his
smile...it is an adventure.

3. shape - things become different. I communicate with him
(whoever the "he" is at the time). He shows interest. Sexual.
Flirtatious. Through the sinews of sensuality I begin to THINK I
see a glimpse of the man behind my crush. I feel justified that
he is worth the time. He is the diamond in the rough...damaged
but kindhearted. Observant, not quiet. Sexy not dirty.

4. zippers and buttons and clasps OH MY (PLEASE NOTE - I am
no seamstress.....not sure how in the world to make scarf let alone
a dress. Please permit me the poetic license to drag this metaphor
to its conclusion)

this is me - this is what happens. What begins as excitement over
his attention, quickly disintegrates into anxiety. A cloak of fear zips
up around the fun exhilarating moments. Why is he NOT writing?
Why haven't we gone out again?

WHY WHY WHY???

This is not Glenn Close fatal attraction boiling bunny bullshit.
He sees only the calm, cool, collected Dana. Attentive, but not
too much. Flirty, not slutty.

But inside I am mess.

Why do I give men such control over my moods? Mr. BW doesn't
want that control. Most men don't want that control. Or at least
the men I like.

The pattern I create is so abusive.

They aren't the abusers. I am. I scream at myself from the pits of
doubt that I am not good enough, not thin enough, not enough for
the AMAZING man I have decided to fit into.

I am the one who leads us down the road to failure because
everything matters so much and he can't possibly have the ability to
assuage my fears, my worries because he is not even aware of them.

It is a hard pill to swallow. It also puts the "ex" into a fresher
perspective. I had NONE of those anxieties with him. I should have...
but I didn't. I was certain we would be 80 and together. I was CALM
for the first time ever with a man.

I was blind
But calm
I want that again
Obviously the feeling, not the ex...

I just keep sewing the same dress that doesn't fit.

I don't trust my abilities to pick complimentary fabric
I don't believe in personal shoppers.
I am stuck in this middle grounds between excitement and insanity.

A lot of women will write how men abuse them. And there are a lot
of men that do. How do I stop the abuse from within? I don't gravitate
towards men who hurt women. I hurt myself constantly by letting self
defeating thoughts run rampant through my brain.

I lack the skill to just "see where it goes"

I missed that lesson. And the controlling of emotions, or rather the
new found attempts to allow a rational thought to rule the roost once
in a while, does not stop the insidious poison of self doubt to flow
when dealing with the exes and MR. BW's of the world.

That horrible fear that I am somehow damaged.
Or only good for fucking....

These thoughts grow like weeds...unstoppable and ugly.
I lack the ability to pull them by the root.
I missed gardening lessons as well.

I am asking you, the reader to help this undomesticated Jewess
to STOP these thoughts.

What do you do?
How can I apply the lessons so easily learned regarding career,
family, and friends to MEN.
What new lessons can you teach me?


Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 14...I am back

I am going to be a blog writing fool. I woke this morning, after not having written something of substance for five days, I felt out of it. I felt disconnected. I guess part of the journey is recognizing that you needed to be on the journey in the first place. I could easily have aborted this mission......

stopped

continued on in the monotonous robotic way I spoke about in my first post.

i will not allow that to happen

if you do not mind I am going to catch up on posts as if this is Day13, though it should be Day 18 or so.....I have so much more to say and losing five days because of a GHETTO MOTEL with no Internet access doesn't seem fair.

It is amazing how quick the "fight" left me

If I woke up this morning feeling fine I might not be writing this.

I am not in a 12 step program......but the concept of one day at a time (which clearly worked for newly thin Valerie Bertinelli - Eddie is regretting their split, She is a HOTTIE!) is so ridiculously simple, and yet so complex. How do you get up each day in the midst of a few day lapse, and reinpsire yourself?

I don't know the answer, I just thank God that I have found a way, TODAY, to do just that.

Five days have gone by, the big picture fatalist in me wants to say, SCREW IT.

You are done.

You failed.

You failed any reader who was enjoying your writing

You failed yourself for not continuing to write when work was swallowing you whole.

I was riding with a colleague on the way to a client meeting. I was sad.....I couldn't figure it out.

Why did I feel so out of touch?

Why did I just want to crawl into my bed and cry my eyes out?

I have felt that way all day.

I am at my desk.

Writing this.

And yes, I am wasting company time. But I am feeling a load being lifted off of my shoulders. I refuse to be a passive participant in my life. I refuse to lay down and become so inundated with work that I lose MYSELF.

I may be in this corporate world.

But I am a dancer

I am a writer

And I cannot lose these things.

For it is in KNOWING that these qualities exist within me, that I can continue to be a cog in the corporate wheel.

The click clack keyboarding

The tip tap typing

The wiggety whack writing - those who know Kris Kross can enjoy that obscure reference

work to make me whole again.

Venn diagram becoming one.

Just by stating this fact. By admitting that maybe ALL ALONG all I needed to be doing to avoid previous apathy was to WRITE about it.

I feel better.

Not perfect

Not inspired as I have a horribly busy month ahead of me

But I feel confident that I am not going to retreat into drinking, eating, sleeping to feel better.

I am going to write.

I am going to fulfill the duty bestowed on me by my dear friend. And I am going to fulfill the duty to myself to see where I can be at the end.

And most importantly,

I am going to find someone who feels as if they can continue journey moving forward. The greatest reward will be in seeing how she travels................who will she be?

I have so much I want to say. Syllables spilling sloppily onto the page. Alas, I must earn my keep In cubicle land. Must keep away the Lumbergs of the world.

I can't wait to write later.

I am excited

I am BACK BABY!!!!!!!!!!



Hope and love,

Soul Dancer

A Break in the Journey

Hi All.............(like ti imagine there are readers waiting to travel with me)....I apologize for the lack of posts. Heavy workload midweek gave way to a stay in hotel for family wedding with NO WIRELESS INTERNET ACCESS. I am dying.........was able to get on hotel computer to post this.

Will be back on line tomorrow night. And will be post happy fool!

Have a great weekend,
Soul Dancer

Day 12...The Boy that Would Be King

On July 27th 2005 I fell in love in a way I never knew existed.


I received a phone call. 7 am. Sleep in my eyes, strolling towards the shower. I groggily answer hello.

"Hello Aunt Dana!"

"What??? Who the hell is this?"

"HELLO AUNT DANA"

"Daddddd.............."

"Yes Aunt Dana. Kyle was born."



How can it be possible for in one instant your heart to expand infinitely. To know without even meeting someone that you love them. To know you would do anything for them. To know that they could do no wrong in your eyes.

That is the way I felt when I met Kyle.


Falling

Spiraling


in love with a baby whom I never met.


And then I saw this boy with full lips, and dimples................oh those dimples.



I was a bull in a china shop. Afraid to touch. So were his parents. Often they said at the end of the day that it was one more day the kept Kyle alive.


Now he is infused with a spirit so strong, so wild and volatile, that we are lucky if he doesn't leave us on the ground writhing with fatigue.

I have loved men. I love my family. This is different.

Wordsworth says,


"Child is the father of man."


He is right.


How is it that they remain, in the early years of life, when everything is SO NEW...........so fearless. Fear is learned. I am so scared of so many things. We don't trust. Kyle knows who loves him and he demands a lot from them. He should. He knows that we will never stop. Never cease to be there for him.

I can't wait to see him change and become a boy whom hates girls. The cooties. And then become a teen who likes girls, or maybe boys (who cares!).


What will he be?


Whom will he become?

How will we part of each other's lives?

The funny thing is.................I ask the same of myself.

What do I want to be when I grow up?

DO I want to write?


Do I want to expand my mind.

When does it end?
Why does it have to?

These thoughts are never present in Kyle's mind. He is in the present. We can't utter a hint of the word Pizza. We simply cannot as he will scream and yell.................until that pizza gets in his tummy. He is flying by the seat of his pants.


Doesn't care if he falls.
Doesn't care if he slips.
Doesn't fear.


There is no end in sight just this long wonderful day filled with things and people he loves. Learning and expressing himself constantly.


Kyle is the father of Dana


I am always so nervous about where I will end up. What am I going to do? How do I control this? How do I control that? It is tiring. It is pointless.

How silly am I to assume that I am ever going to be satisfied with what i have.


I think that is a major dividing point amongst people.

People who strive and people who accept. I don't accept. And a lot of times it sucks BC the lack of acceptance is a mirror reflecting inward placing blame on myself. I am never going to get to that pot of gold. And if I got there, I would be wishing it were something else.

Kyle doesn't care about the pot of gold, while he screams his happy little face off sliding down the bright colors......on a towel because it increases speed.


Kyle is the father of Dana and he is my king. My hero.....BB Jabs.




Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 11...Gimme Some Lovin'

Today was Monday....I said it could/would/should be full of hope.

I worked 12 hours

I got a letter saying I owe the federal govt $1,200 from 2005 tax return.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK...so I am not going to write about feeling calm and working my way through obvious frustration. Instead I am going to talk about the one thing that makes me calm without having to think about it.

SEX

I haven't had it in QUITE some time. At least not with anyone else present. And the truth is, I can give myself an orgasm quicker than any man thanks to batteries and a good DVD collection.
But that is not what I want.
I want the touch of a man. To feel a man.
With all of this soul searching, I am feeling the need to be one with the earth, to connect with my physical being by allowing and begging for someone to enter it.

My perfect kiss:

FACE GRAB WITH BOTH HANDS

BC THAT IS JUST FUCKING AMAZING

SOFT OPEN MOUTH....UNEVEN LIPS

I LIKE MINE TO BE ON THE BOTTOM – TYPICALLY THAT IS THE CASE WITH ME

ON THE WAY OUT

YOU FEEL THE INSIDE OF THEIR LIPS AND GO IN AGAIN.

LITTLE FLICKER OF THE TONGUE

BODIES MOVE CLOSER

HANDS MOVE SLOWLY BEHND HIS HEAD AND THROUGH HIS HAIR

KISSES DON’T LAST TOO LONG

TONGUES LINGER AFTER THE LIPS PART THEIR WAYS

SLIGHT NIBBLING OF THE LOWER LIP BEGINS

DRIVES YOU TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL

YOU ARE EVEN CLOSER WHEN THE LONG SOFT KISS BECOME MORE PASSIONATE

MORE DRIVEN

SLIGHTLY MORE VIOLENT

YOU LOSE YOUR BREATH

YOU KISS LONGER AND HARDER

NOW YOU ARE FEELING IT ELSEWHERE

IT HAS BEGUN

This is what I need to feel. This I what I want.

And then........................
Finally
What I can imagine just by closing my eyes and focusing my energy.
I can't give this to myself.
I can't wrap my arms around his back, pulling him closer to me...........until he is inside.....and then I am pulling him deeper in me

And the sweat swirling and swooshing together, slippery slinky sweat.

And those glances..........when you open your eyes to see his stare coming right back at you. You both smile.

My climaxes come freely.....but it is when he climaxes that I truly relax.

We are both satisfied. Victory in knowing you were pleasured and you pleasured someone else.

And then in each others arms, catching your breath, as you roll over and soft kisses fall on your back.........for a while.
Because if you are lucky, the motions of your body will be attuned to his..........
Hips moving back and forth
And you feel him a little more than before.
And you smile from the deepest dirtiest most physical point within
It will start again

The
moaning
screaming
touching
licking
biting
kissing
sucking
riding
pounding

that is SEX.

What else is there to say............

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 10...Rainy Days and Sundays

Why are Sundays filled with sadness and gloom?

They are the February of days, the dark ages of time,
the black hole of the universe.

I hate them.

I feel lonelier than on any other day. I allow my
imagination to run wild and then am even more let
down when faced with the foolishness of my fanciful,
whimsical thoughts.

I am embarrassed that my mind can wonder so freely
and yet so specifically into scenarios and at the same
time they offer me my only solace from the doldrums
of the day.

Today, I was thinking would be different. I was hoping
to awake and see the sun through my window and sense
the continuation of the beautiful weather in our nation's
capital. But the sky is thick with dense, sticky clouds.

My plans of basking the sun while continuing through Ayn
Rand's Atlas Shrugged (AMAZING), and taking dips in the
chilled blue pool were over. I was left in my bed to think
about Sunday in all its

Sundayness.....

And the older sadness crept in. Sunday with not even a
J-E-T-S game and pizza to cheer me up.

How have the high spirits of yesterday crash to this
unwarranted feeling of emptiness?

I have always been a person who trusted my emotions
.....lived by them, swore by them, acted upon them.

Throughout my journey, I have realized that emotions
can be tricky little bastards. I always wondered why people
didn't seem to be in touch with them, while mine are on
the surface all of the time, waiting to show, to betray any
sense of calm needed to get by. I cry, laugh, scream at the
drop of a hat, and never cared to see that there could be
some slight irrationality in that.

How do you not allow yourself to give in freely to those
emotions.....it seems that often times people have the
opposite problem. I am not trying to say that I don't want to
feel them. I just wish sometimes I could check them slightly.

My brother and I just spoke.

He is so angry with me for the debt I have incurred. For the
debt that he is picking up the pieces.

I can not buy gifts for his family. For my nephew........my love.

He is accusatory and has every right to be. My first reaction
was to scream back and defend. I have no justification to do
so. He is right. I am lucky he is helping and I have to take
all the venom he dishes out.

My emotions, if i so choose to follow them, would have me
cut off the proverbial nose. I would call back crying.......

Saying I don't need his help.
I do need it.
I would say I am going to take care of it.
I can't do that.
I would cry and cry and cry like a baby...not crocodile tears,
but tears in the hope to invoke some shred of sympathy.
I don't deserve his sympathy.

His help is what I am in need of. His help is what I am getting.

This Sunday feels like the Sunday before the first day of school.
I am trying to maintain the calm. As I sit here and write I know
my cloud eyes are going to rain wet sloppy tears. And a pity
party is going to begin.

It is Sunday after all.

In an effort to try and staunch the flow - what I can identify
as alterations in the normal behavior:

1. not screaming at him
2. not immediately stuffing my face
3. not angry with him for being harsh

That's all I got.
And now I am hungry so we may need to scratch off #2!

Self-awareness without change is Sunday behavior. I want
Monday to come. A new chance to apply the tidbits of self
knowledge gained through my Sunday Storm.

A rainbow to shine, reflecting off the puddles of my saline
droplets to show me there is hope.

Sunday........ a day only God could love.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 9...Priceless

I didn't write yesterday.
I was busy........

Being part of a miracle of sorts. Though I didn't know the foundation
of this miracle started my freshman year of college.

I met amazing women. Three. I don't keep in touch with
them on the same time table. But there is instant comfort
...instant love....and instant LAUGHTER.

We love each other.
I feel blessed.
In many different ways, we were all open and that allowed
us to connect in a way that not all people can.

Throughout changes.......and post-college life choices that
could pull apart most, we remain friends.

We are cheerleaders rooting for each other.

We are hot chocolate on a snowy day and the feel of water
on the hot humid haze of August.

I have never laughed so hard in my life. I couldn't breathe.
My abs are sore. I was, still am elated.

At one point, my eyes glazed over. I was diving within. Feeling
less than. Judging myself.


My friend noticed and asked, "Are you getting introspective?"

To which I replied, "Yes."

She knew why. She wouldn't allow me to think I was less than
because I was single. She replied with a smile, immediately
snapping me out of potential pity party,

"Not on my time!"


We broke out in hysterical laughter and that was the end of it.

It was a miracle to be amongst people without having to,
needing to, WANTING to hide anything. I am so lucky.

I am so embarrassed to sing for ANYONE. I sing for them...
horribly. Our faces hurt from smiling.

I can get so sensitive when I feel I am the butt of a joke.
Those feelings are often not anything more than ME judging
myself. I have never felt this once. We are all laughing with,
never at.

What a gift to be reminded why we try to interpret, analyze,
and reflect while in the midst of sadness. It is because it allows
us to enjoy and appreciate the happy occasions with a newer,
deeper sense of joy and understanding.

If only the phrase, "laughing my ass off" could be literal...

I would be down two sizes.

I feel so full...perhaps the multitude of mozzarella sticks.

But I think it is because my heart expanded so much. For
two days I didn't give in to the temptation of comparing
myself to someone/something that doesn't exist. I didn't
feel lonely and I didn't feel that being single was somehow
a jail sentence because of a crime I committed. I was in the
present completely.

I was happy.

I wasn't disconnected or hidden from ANYONE......
even from myself.

Priceless

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 8...Letting Go

A favorite song of mine from Joe Cocker…..not so easy to do.

My friend, who started me on this process, and I have been so connected of late……….we are on this journey together. Today on the phone, she brought up the topic of anger. I quickly noted to her, that while in bed last night……..I was thinking of just that.

On this journey, I am not in any way unaware of the fact that I have, “anger issues”.
Translation…………..I overreact a lot. I explode so quickly. Many times it can be seen from the outside. But what is going on inside is so much worse.

I literally can feel HEAT surging through my veins. And this is not the good sexual heat…………………..oh god please LET ME FEEL THAT SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am talking about this explosion of bubbling lava blood erupting throughout my body. Making me appear red all over……..a hot look for freckly chick like myself

There is no poker face.

There are no poker words.

I can be lethal. I can be over reactive. I have been known, on occasion, to make matters worse.
I think only with age can we understand the phrase, “The opposite of love OR hate is indifference.”
Then a decade or so later, you MAY be able to practice what you preach………
I can say with total confidence.

I
Have
A
Good
8
Years
To
Go
I remember how I learned to understand. I had a boyfriend after college for three years. We were in love, and there was enough chemistry to fill in an entire periodic table, though no inert gasses would be present.
We were explosive.
You can only imagine where that chemistry had its benefits……… (note, I have stopped writing to imagine the various mixtures we made together……..what element is 69?)

We were together for three years, should have broken up after one.
By the time we got around to stop screwing and actually end it, we HATED each other.

Years have past……we have grown up. And the hatred I once had for him started to fade away. I became indifferent. I knew I was over him.

Though I got there eventually……..this process was involuntary. I had no control, but rather time steered the process.

I need to find ways of coping with those surges of emotions. I focus on why I explode, rather than on how to amend the behavior. I am going to change that. How can I calm down? How can I cool down?
Any suggestions?
I have recognized that all the anger does is inhibit my ability to work, laugh, and RELAX. I can also say that 9 times out of 10 my rage doesn’t in any way alter or change the position of the person with whom I am angry.

I have lost another not previously mentioned good friend because of my snappishness. Rather than snap, I should have found a way to control that guttural grunt, those venomous vowels and consonants forming wounding words that never seem to get the heart of the matter.

So for now I choose to control or mediate the symptoms. Then, I will try to figure out why in the world I get so angry in the first place.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 7... Scab Pickin' Fool

I pick my scabs.

This is a gross unladylike habit.
I always thought that once I was an adult.
A LADY
I would stop doing that.

Guess WHAT????
I haven't.

I suffer from chronic-scabpickulitus.

And you know you know what?
Fuck it.

What childhood oddities did you bring along with
you to your adulthood? I would love to know. Here
are a few other of my signature child to adult idiosyncrasies:

1. the previously mentioned scab picking

2. every time I eat a bagel, I take a bite of each
quarter, separating them, forming a bagel line. I eat the
worstquarter bagel first, and then end with the last BEST
delicious
bite at the end.

3. in fact, come to think of it, I basically am, since childhood,
OBSESSED with the last bite being the best bite.

4. when I watch TV my jaw draws open and my chin "falls"
upward- I am a space cadet!

I am sure there are others........but we/I have 24 more days
of writing to let you/myself in on more of my little secrets.

Adult formed neuroses - well that is just a whole other
category.I personally believe that in the future, we will be
able to create,instead of a holiday savings account, a prepaid
therapy account only to be cashed when you are Bonkers...
(note to self, write that down in the book of ideas BC it could
be a winner!).

Some of my winner adult induced neuroses:

1. I cannot tolerate ANYONE who doesn't know that they
should speed up when a light is green at an intersection
infamous for being a long red. HOW DO THEY STAND IT????

2. The mispronunciation of the word supposedly, to be
supposeBly can literally cause my hair to stand on edge

3. The visceral reaction I get when I see a baby, especially
with his/her daddy. Reaction somewhat akin to the pounding
of a clock, BIOLOGICAL one perhaps, pounding in my chest.

4. My absolute inability to sit still without touching myself,
not sexually,in some way. In particular I scratch my arms a lot.
My family calls itgiving the chills. The person whom I wrote
about yesterday oftencalls(ed) me Tactile Dana...

Aren't people just about the weirdest form of life? Where the
hell did the idea of normal arise from? Where is that man? I
would like to kickhis ass? Seriously, we are freaks. We all do
things that can't be explained.That can't even possibly work to
fulfill any of the main needs of survival, which are:

1. FOOD
2. CLOTHING (including shoes!)
3 SHELTER
4 ORGASMS ( I submit this is as necessary, or why would we
have the ability to repetitively do it - sorry boys!)

And yet we all do odd-ass things that we are embarrassed of
or celebrate, but certainly we do not DO those things without
awareness of the fact that they are not NORMAL....

I submit to you that we rage against normal.

Who needs it?
Who cares?

I have enough shit on my plate to just get through today, to
worry about the fact that I have a scab on my arm from an
annoying mosquito bite. So what if when I sit in my friend's
car after work today, heading to a bar to meet an old friend,
I obsessively move the seat up/down/forward/backward using
the electronic controls...and laugh the whole time. SO WHAT!!!

WHO CARES!!!

Tonight in celebration of all that is freaky about me, and all I am
sure is freaky about any one of you reading, in the words of Luke
Wilson in The Family Stone...................

LET YOUR FREAK FLAG FLY!

Hope and love,
Soul Dancer

Day 6... Sloughing off the Excess

I woke up this morning in a shitty mood. I am having money troubles. I am a fiscal failure with a promising job. It is a sad pathetic treatise on my inability to live within my means. But it is true.

Because of this, I had to ask my brother for help. I couldn't ask my father again...

ONE MORE TIME

Because he has helped me so often, and without payback.

Maybe it this journey I am on of late. A journey to be the best me. But I went to my brother knowing he would help and knowing he would be strict about the following:

1. I WILL pay him back
2. There will be no money directly deposited in my acct.
3. He will force me to admit everything about my spending habits and help me come up with a plan

Needless to say, I felt like a baby sister in the truest form last night.

I went to bed with an inspired idea on what to write about. I would write about how it is a blessing to have someone to fall on when you are in need. How I was humiliated but calm about it all for the first time. I felt a change ahead. I feel a change in me.

I am not going to lie to get the money. I told him my predicament. I tried not to cry.

It didn't work.

But instead of ending on this note of hope, I woke up to find an email from a friend, who is clearly NOT a friend anymore.

We were close.....so close for so long when I first moved down to DC. She is this amazing female who feels the need to help everyone around her selflessly.

Except she neglects to work for one person. Herself.

And I have to say I took advantage of her. Maybe not consciously, but I did. I was broke when I came down here. And I was sad because I didn't have the "dream job" or even a permanent job at first.

But little by little, I started to gain strength. I started to not need her. This is not what bothered her - because she is at heart someone whom I KNOW wants to see me happy.

The problem is... I was now strong enough to help her. I was now able to see that our relationship was unequal and I wanted to contribute. I was met with closed ears and retreat.

I pushed, wrongfully so. And our friendship, then exacerbated by the fact that we lived together became unbearable for both of us. A big blow out pushed me out of our apartment and into where I currently live.

We didn't talk for six months.

We tried again.
This was a new friend.
A friend with a boyfriend.
A friend with HOPE and HAPPINESS.
A different person.

I was elated. I was truly happy for her. I would stare at the two of them. He is sweet, and definitely a positive force.

It makes me smile........

And then the other shoe dropped.
I found out about my ex's engagement.

CRASH...

She was no where to be found and I don't know why. I called her and expressed disappointment. I didn't yell.

I have screamed before.
I was hurt and said so.
She never responded - 2 weeks and no call to see if I was OK.

I got my first communication this morning. It was a quick email saying that someone was after me for money. She let me know as much and said she would not pick up the phone (which is totally FINE by me).

The tone could be described as.........

Condescending.
Mean-spirited.
Uncaring at best.

I was not sad, and I was not going to do the thing that my mother does. Which is somehow blame myself. I will not blame myself for the the fact that my heart, whether justifiably or not, hurts. I will not blame myself for needing a friend.

I will no longer blame her either.
I am sloughing off the excess.

Why continue to try when clearly it is broken. I am not going to launch a diatribe against her. I am not going to say she is a horrible person.

She isn't. She is better than most.
Definitely better than me.

She is simply not a good friend for me. And I gather, that she feels the same about me.

This exfoliation today was rough. It hurt. But like any good skincare professional will say, it was necessary to clean out the matrix below.




Hope and love,
Soul Dancer

Day 5... Origins Male

Every day from age two till adolescence, I would be doing a variety of things around my house: dancing, annoying my brothers, watching TV, or making a mess.

When I would hear the sound...

The most exciting sound of every day

The sound of the 5:22 train out of NY Penn FINALLY rolling in to Ronkonkoma Station with my daddy on it

I would stop

Run

And sit at the top of the stairs waiting for him

Energy lifted

He would walk in and 2 sets of eyes would light up!

We spent every Saturday morning together;: bagels, carwash, drycleaners, library, ANYWHERE!!!!!!

Two days ago, I wrote about the nature of the relationship I share with my mother, and now I need to bring to life the other half of me.

How do you make a God human? I don’t know if I can. I am not sure he is. I do not know, have never met, and never will meet someone who emanates such goodness. He is selfless, devoted to his family. And the charisma!!!! Oh my God, every hot dog vendor from Penn to his old office on 40^th and Broadway knew his name. Every store he patronizes loves him.

He never EVER fails to make someone else smile. He is a child at heart but at the same time has given us all so much

People say I am like him.

We do share personalities. We both have a certain charm. An ability to make people smile and an ability to make people feel close with us. I too know how to get a laugh.

But while he is perfect to me...

I am not. I didn’t get all of him.

I have lied, and manipulated for my own purposes when necessary

I have been selfish.

I have been jealous and angry and put my needs before others.

Not always, not in EVERY scenario, but at times. I don’t see him as ever doing ANY of those things.

I know that it may not be healthy to feel this way.

Because he IS human.

He is a man.

A Husband.

And lord knows I don’t know ANY woman who would say their husband is perfect.

I know that in me he sees himself, and I know that I have brought him much happiness, but I just want to be more, do more, give him the right to be so proud of me and so sure that only good things can and should happen to me.

I guess, though I never was verbally taught to seek his approval, I have been craving it forever, and he has never disappointed. He is such a proud papa. I just want to be worthy of what he feels.

I think of the way I view humanity because of him

He always says, "Treat the president of the United States the same way you would treat the custodian in your building.”

Lesson learned.

Hands down.

We had(have) so many silly little ROUTINES…………

Every night we would say, “A Kiss and a hug and that nice warm feeling.”

We would gang up against mom, with our famous double entendre maneuver (we would show you, but then we would have to kill you!) Our fattening trips to Bennigan’s after he had sweat out five pounds playing racquetball.

I could write for days thanking him. I could write for years sharing stories.

The thing is this…

I know that people are bound to be disappointed when they place someone on a pedestal.

I never have been disappointed by him.

My fear is that he will somehow determine that the love he shines upon me will be tarnished by my irresponsibility, my refusal to live according to Standard Operating Procedure. Deep down knowing, that won’t happen. Because he JUST that amazing.

SO today, I am going to actively begin to STOP waiting for that to happen. I am going to accept that what my father wants, selflessly as always, is for his little girl to be happy. And I am going to be PROUD of the fact that I am working on just that.

Everyday as I write, I feel as if little weights are being lifted and I am growing more aware of the woman I want to be.

So why worry if I am worth the love he bestows on me. I have it, and I damn lucky for it. It is a “nice warm feeling!”

Love and Hope,

Soul Dancer

Day Four... Loved Stoned

This is not intended to be read by prudes…

I just saw JT in concert last night and am feeling a bit dirty.

Just

U

Slide

That

Instrument

Nice

Tightly

Inside

My

Body

Embracing

Ravishing

Licking

And

Kissing

Everywhere

After a two and a half hour show, he rises up to the stage again, sits at the piano, and belts out a song, ostensibly to someone else, though I see at as a call to myself, a call to forgive and fall in love with myself once again.

I was going to share the lyrics with you, but decided against it. Instead, I ask you to think about a song that inspires you.

Listen to it.

Loudly

And give in.

Completely.

Sing your heart out.

Let it affect you.

Let it inspire you.

Justin, thank you for reminding me why I need to keep writing.

Thank you for showing me how amazing it can be to do what you love.

Thank you.


Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day Three... Origins Female

I have three older brothers. Yes three. Half-brothers to be totally accurate, though we grew up together.

I am the love child of my two parents. My father prefers to say diaphragm baby. (I know a lot of these.)

Note to self:DIAPHRAGMS SUCK!!!

I am the only girl

I did well in school

I was a tattle tale

I fought with my mother

My father is GOD

Daddy and Me against Mom – that’s how it was.

Still is in a lot of ways.

I am still apologizing to her for things I said:

“FUCK YOU”

“YOU’RE JEALOUS OF ME BECAUSE I WILL HAVE A CAREER AND YOU ARE JUST A MOM”

“I CAN HAVE BABIES STILL”

First of all, there is no just being a mom.

Second, like I said, I am still apologizing.

She was never quite what I thought I wanted. Wasn’t class mommy, nor was my house “the spot”. She wasn’t the greatest cook and snow days with four crazy children were never received kindly.

That is all I saw when I looked at her.

What I was blind to…

Her incredible ability to get all four of us wherever we needed to go. Her total pride at seeing any one of us do anything that we loved be it sports or dance. Her intense love that she expressed so clearly and yet was missed because it didn’t manifest itself in traditional ways.

I have seen all of these things. I love my mother. I see how she struggles with worrying about us.

I swear she has a booked worrying schedule and worry items on standby just in case something no longer needs worrying about.

I used to be angry with her for not speaking up.

Now I have become her bodyguard, fiercely protecting her from anyone who thinks she is somehow less than….simply because she has the good sense to live not only for us, but for herself as well.

And there it is. Life lesson learned. Motherhood is one title I will add to my list of people. But when I become a mother, it will enhance the total package. It will not take over everything else.

She taught me that. I am grateful for the lesson that I am not sure she intended to teach.

It is quite a moment in your development when you see your own parents as people. With flaws. With goals unrelated to you.

And at that moment…

That split second…

They become your friend as well. My mom is my best friend in so many ways. She has seen the ugliest parts of me and still loves me.

I have thought the worst of her, and now think the world of her!

This weekend I will be spending one night with an old friend who tends to feed any insecurities I have about myself. Basically it isn’t him that does it as much as myself. We were equals once, and in some ways, not really relevant ways, he has surpassed me.

Has he??

That moment I spoke of…….discovering the humanity in my mother.This weekend, as armor from my self-doubt, I give myself permission to be human. I give myself permission to be proud of the life I have built thus far. So what if it hasn’t been a straight line. It has been a hell of a ride.

I will keep signing permission slips over and over so that I can begin to deconstruct how I define success.

I did it once before.

I redefined my mother, and in doing so, found a treasure.

This time the treasure found will be even closer, it will be me.

Love and Hope,

Soul Dancer