penn's pen

penn learns something new every day. last weekend he learned how to write on himself. and he thinks it's amazing. so he wrote all over himself, and his daddy and they were written on all day long.



when penn wakes up from a nap he always wants something. sometimes it's as easy as him saying "juice," but other times it's a puzzle of points and grunts and then he whines, lays down and gives up because mommy is obviously a moron and can't figure it out.


well i figured this one out. he wanted all the balls in the bed. and i called benji to come look at the cuteness that lay amongst an assorted variety of balls.



ben thought it was funny. me? well, i thought this face was funny.

i'm missing a really good documentary right now

i'm in the process of spring cleaning my hard drive. i'm all outta space. i've about 11% of free space which is causing the building of my new photography site to be a SLOW and tedious process. the more i think about the horrendous nature of my current site, up for all the world to see, the faster i want to get anything up in it's place.


so i'm going through the back-up discs of my pics (read: big fat mess), logging them, and then deleting them (GASP!) from my computer in order to free up space.

i hate it. sure, i need it to be more organized, but i hate not having my work right there at my fingrtips. you know, i may never look back at all of these amazing pictures of penn when he was a baby. and you may never see them either, as i doubt i'll acknowledge their existence once i don't have to scroll through them to get to what i want. (oh, but that might be nice.)


so i'm taking advantage of this event and will probably bombard you with random cuteness for no reason until all this stuff is stuck on a cd.


like these pictures, for example, of the adorable unwakeable penn.


once his eyes opened to see the camera in his face, he decided to take a picture of us.


i've been letting him take a lot of pictures lately. he needs to work on focus, obviously. he even shot a one minute movie that i will post as soon as the harddrive is clean and the new website is up.

and he's been an amazing genious lately. he can read the letter "o"! i'd love to go on and on, but i'm forgoing all things fun for the betterment of computerkind.

when penn moves out

there are five days in the week that most american's dedicate to working. then there are two days to dedicate to playing. i'd like to request one extra day. one day to do nothing.

there's a feeling that's been knawing at me lately, to crawl into bed wearing something comfy, pull the laptop in with me, some popcorn, maybe, or hot chocolate, and watch movies and take naps. to shower, and crawl naked and damp under the heavy comforter. to read and read and read, a whole book, even. to have chinese food delivered to my door. to peacefully do maybe one load of laundry that doesn't get unfolded by silly baby hands and roll myself up in a warm towel. an ageless pleasure of mine. i'd like to just lay somewhere without thoughts of things un-done or yet-to-come or haven't-been-done and i'd like to lay there for a really long time.

maybe it'll happen. when penn moves out.

good bye zoom lens

if i want to add a picture (read=the much needed new design for my photography website ) i should be able to do that. in my fancy new web publishing program, i should be able to do that. i shouldn't have to open a gazillion windows only to find that my file is invisible and is in elementary school being teased because it is an "orphan file." an hour later, i found it's presence though if it were actually on the internet(s) right now the size of it would jump out of your computer and cover half of texas, which is a pretty big damned state.


i'm new to the program. but, after 15 days and having bought the book and made it 5 whole lessons in, i'm still a chicken without a head. i've recently posted an ad in search of a tutor. there's probably a class i could take that would cost a lot of money, tuition and child care wise. it's a semi-professional program. i get it. it's not supposed to be easy.

benji has tempted me with an investment in my photography career (read=a super duper cool zoom lens, that i'll need anyway to shoot weddings) if i'll learn this semi-professional program. and i got on the ball 'cause there's only 12 days left in my trial and then it all gets really expensive.


but, i think i give up tonight. i think i'm giving up and i'm returning the book and purchasing the original program i used. (which was also a trial, so it's now expired and unusable on my computer) it's an easy intuitive user-friendly program that is not a professional standard and probably for the adjectives previously mentioned. but you know what? i'm okay with that. it supports flash and other multi-media, which you know, will happen, someday. maybe.


i love my little program. so good-bye super duper cool zoom lens. hello pretty, manageable, updateable website. if i can convince benji, that is.

the pictures here are a beginning to the new look. nothing's final.

the phenomenon of sucking

i bought penn/us a frisbee for 99 cents at petsmart after watching him play with another little boy and his frisbee at the park. i LOVE frisbee. i love anything you can throw and catch over and over and over again. no one has ever tired me out of it, so there's no telling how long i could go.

when benji and i went out with the frisbee we discovered a strange phenomenon. i sucked. big time. benji said, lovingly, something to the effect of it being a 99 cent frisbee meant for dogs, and potentially not completely my fault. and both of us believed it, a little bit. "i'll get us a good frisbee," he said. and true to his word, he came home with a new one the next day.

we went out to the parking lot and the strange phenomenon continued. i still sucked. last weekend we went to the park so that i could suck some more. i sucked so bad that there were people laughing at me. out loud. no holding back. and still, i threw on, determined to not suck. it didn't happen and when one of the laughers asked to play with us, i bowed out as penn took off towards the bike trail.

which was for the best really, as he and benji were really good. (it was a lovely couple we met, by the way. he from belgium and she from---i forget, but appears to be indian. they've two lovely young daughters and we gave them my card. i keep hoping they'll call.)

yesterday, mary came over. she and i and penn went to the park. i warned her of the sucking phenomenon and after a couple tosses, she agreed. and she didn't laugh at me. too hard, anyway. we followed penn through the park and then he plopped down inside the soccer goal completely hypnotized with mary's big starbucks cup of lemonade. so mary and i were able to throw again. and in the time it takes to cover a baby in lemonade i improved my game 100%. one-hundred-percent!

i was eccstatic! i apparently was holding it ALL wrong. like a little sissy-wimp, i was. we figured this out when mary threw it to me and i told her i was going to throw it back as fast as i could and without thinking. that sucker went straight out! before i kept thinking, turn this way, release here, snap your wrist, don't hit anyone . . . .

so now, i'm pretty sure i still suck, but maybe not enough that entire families will bust their gut over it.

random picture

i'm fascinated with getting a good picture from a car. this was one of a group of skateboarders we saw downtown. a lucky shot that i had to move quick to get. one of the amazing features of the nikon d70 is that it's ready to shoot before you can move your finger from the power to the shutter.

i said, stop it already.

if only i could add, oh i don't know, a title to that last post. perhaps a space where i would like a space. maybe even more detailed verbage. alas, blogger's doing it again. should i dare log into the following post it will display ugly little white boxes filled with a red x. that red x is taunting me. stop it.

as aforementioned, all clients now recieve a nicely packaged cd with their photos. this is the cover for brown lions.

the back notes "originals" for original photos, "hot" for the top pick of the originals, "photoshop hot" for the ones i touched up and "package design" for these covers, should they ever want to recreate it.

the cd label contains a picture of a graffiti dove that brown liked very much. you can find this on a wall next to a taco stand in deep ellum. now. if only i could correctly calibrate my printer so that everything fits cleanly where it should. benji would note my perfectionism complex here.

brown lion

i've done more booking and follow-ups and organizing and research and dreaming of hanging my photographs this month than i've taken pictures. for money, anyway. so when innersoul records asked me to photograph some promotional pictures of their new artist brown lion this weekend, i was thrilled, to say the least.


i'm even more thrilled at how well they turned out. photoshop is the digital darkroom and though i know/remember very little about the actual darkroom (a definite fantasy of mine) i'm quite comfortable at my computer.


after the last frame is used i get jittery and anxious and rush home to download. i almost always color correct, looking to enrich the photos and bring out the focus. i always go through several color corrections; color, black and white, tinted, etc. and usually one effect will speak to me and i create the whole group, using that one outstanding effect as a sort of cohesive measure.

and sometimes i have to right a crooked picture, or maybe crop something down or remove a building or pimple or something that distracts. i am pleased to announce the improval of my composition, as i only did some very quick color correction. nothing else.


the shoot was a blast. we walked all over deep ellum, looking for backgrounds to fit the urban simplicity we were going for. and brown, well, he's a sculpture, so the sometimes thought, "stay away from that angle" never entered the picture.

i'm still learning about myself as a photographer and listen openly to client's feedback about their pictures and their experience. brown said, "you're energy really makes this easy on me." wow. he also said, "hot" alot as we previewed our visual gatherings. i think the word "poster" came out once or twice too.


the whole experience was really rewarding for me, and i hope for brown as well as innersoul. i'm really excited about what we got.

you can view a smattering of them here (or click the zeigest on the right side of my blog.) rather than bombard you with five of the same photo, (just different treatments) i went through and randomly deleted the "extras." random, because i ended up liking all of them equally for different reasons, so we'll leave all that up to the label to decide.

bub-ble

i hate stuff. i've said it before, i'll say it again and it'll be just as true every time. but. there seems to be a small loophole when it comes to the things that light penn's face up. it's a controllable urge, but barely. i control it by taking penn to the toy store and letting him play and we leave all the toys there.


but sometimes you have to give in. because for a ten dollar bubble machine, i got this face, and this face is gold.


it's the "gazillion bubbles" machine and it practically lives up to it's name. penn loves to stick his face in front of it. the soapy hair at the end of bubble time is lovely.


penn would have it run constantly if i'd let him.


this is his GQ bubble face.


he can even say, slowly and delibertly and over pronounced if that's even an adjective: Bub-ble!

brilliant, i tell you! i think i might have taken a gazillion pictures of him. *sheepish grin.*

update: i feel that penn really found a moment of clarity in the past couple of days and as one commenter noted, it did get worse before it got better. but it has most definetly gotten better. in only two days of absolute intolerance for the screaming we have sinced witnessed hardly a scream, and the very few that have shown their ugly head via my child's mouth, have lasted less than 60 seconds. hooray!

who are you and what have you done with my sweet baby?

today penn would like to DEMAND the crown for GRUMPIEST, CRANKIEST, SCREAMINGIST, FIT THROWINGIST, WHINIST, CRYINGIST baby in the whole ENTIRE WORLD. thank you. i fully intend to lose my mind today.

help.

warning: overuse of all tenses of the word patience

if ever i had a virtue in me it is patience. there's a breaking point in it now due to the crochetyness of age and the nerves that lie closer to the skin due to leading a mother's life, but it's still there and strong and a virtue, if ever i had one in me.

i wouldn't say benji was a patient man, but i would say he has made leaps and bounds in the area since i met him and continues to make progress daily.

it is time for penn to follow suit.

penn is 15 months old so i don't expect him to exhibit any real type of patience, but i do expect him not to scream every time i change his diaper or put on shoes or change his clothes or make him stop playing in the front of the car so i can put him in the car seat or when i tell him he can't go onto the field during other peoples soccer practice to play soccer and the etc.

so, i talked with benji this morning about strategies to help teach penn patience and the art of not screaming. when penn enters a phase such as this (there was the hitting phase and the juice in the bed phase) we came up with a "strategy" and once that strategy was in place with great consistency, it worked! penn now, in a very adorable manner, exits himself from the bed if he happens to wake and is thirsty, walks over to the chair where his juice is, gets a drink, and magically and adorably crawls back into bed and falls asleep. if we happen to hand him his cup, he drinks and hands it back to us. no more washing the sheets EVERY SINGLE DAY!

and so begins the how to teach penn to be as patient and non-screaming as any 15 month old can be expected lesson. if penn should begin screaming because, for example like this morning, when i wrap a washcloth around the bubble bottle so that he can play with it and i can hold it without us both and the floor getting covered in suds, and he starts screaming because he does not approve of the washcloth, i will take it away until he calms down, and then bring the bubbles back into non squawking play thus teaching him that he can get what he wants within reason, but it will never happen so long as there is all that noise.

will it work? hopefully. with patience. i'm open to suggestions.

this was one of those discussions i had in my head and then decided to blog it. in my head the word patience was used many times therefore, the title. however, reading it now i realize i have not truly overused the word patience. rather than changing the title i would just like to add: patience, patient, impatient, impatience and patient, patient, patient, patient, patient.

decision: work on the software, i mean, post this and go to bed

we just got watching a good, but long-ass documentary called "my architect." and now it's one in the a.m. and i'm wrestling with my options for the night, should i choose to have one.

1. work on my website design or
2. do another lesson in adobe golive (jesus h. christ! only 100 pages in and i'm already tired of the book.)

i should just go to bed and attempt a good nights sleep. but every night people, these are the two things i want to do most in the world and every night i can't for one reason or another. i'm a geek. shut up. now.

i am extremely excited about this weekend, though. having not had any "real" work (but quite a few bookings that are going to end up all back to back and at some point in the next couple of months i'll just go crazy) i've really been itching to shoot something. i know. i should be shooting every day. all i can say is that it's hard to shoot with any focus and make sure the baby's not in the street. not to mention drag the expensive unwarrentied, uninsured camera out in the world----with a baby.

i'm excited because this weekend i'll be shooting innersoul record's newly signed artist brown lion. he seems a very cool cat, no pun intended and i'm truly thrilled and beginning the period where i fill my head with wonderful brownlion ideas to stick in my camera.

born into brothels

last sunday benji and i went to see a documentary called "born into brothels." we chocked it up to yet one more life altering experience.

photographer Zana Briski went to calcutta and lived in the red light district. she ended up getting very close to the children there and wanted to help them. their parents are all criminals; they work in the line (prostitutes), they sell liquor and drugs from their homes, etc.



briski gave the children point and shoot cameras. she wanted to see the enviornment through their eyes. the children were amazed. and good. and they learned to see their world a little differently.

she spent an ungodly amount of time and resources going through everything it took to get them accepted into boarding schools. boarding schools because going to school wouldn't be enough, really, to come back to such a hostile home. and she succeeded.


briski got them shows in new york to sell their pictures. she got them a show in calcutta. she got one boy a trip to amsterdam to attend a workshop for young photographers. and she won an acadamy award for best documentary.

the idea of empowering children through photography is amazing. their work was amazing. the time they got to feel important is amazing. the kids are phenominal. i wanted to reach out and take each one home with me. the organization kids-with-cameras that briski developed after her time in calcutta, is expanding into other areas of the world where children need this kind of support and encouragement as a way to possibly show them that they have choices. that they can make the choice not to stand "in the line" with their mother. and their sister. and their grandmother (for godsakes). the ability to make a choice is one of the most important things we as human beings can learn and i hope that this one child learns the skill soon, for when she was asked if she saw any way out of getting forced into prostitution, by her mother, she shook her head no.

the children are all bright and intelligent and full of life and wonder and want and want for hope. the conversations they have to hear coming from their parents mouths gurgles unsteadily in my stomach. when one little boy gets accepted into a school his mother says "yes, take the little brat. i've been trying to get rid of him. i tell him, 'give me 200 rupees so i can feed you' and he gives me 2 rupees and runs off to play marbles.'"

that boy is 10 years old. why? when? where is it okay to talk to one's own children like this? and this was one of the tamest of such conversations shot.

i don't understand. i don't understand where the love is. i do understand that cultures are different. but it is hard to watch a little boy, who's father is addicted to hash and useless and who's mother ran away and "nobody cares about her" (she died in one of india's famous "kitchen fire" incidents. i.e., she was murdered by her husband.) and the little boy says about his disgraceful father, "he's my father. so i try to love him at least a little bit."

i don't even know the children. but, i love them. a lot. after seeing the documentary you can't help it. and kids-with-cameras has a link to let you e-mail the kids and tell them. so, of course, i did.

go watch.

3rd floor magazine

on page 10 of "3rd floor" magazine, spring 2005, you will find a photo i took not too long after moving to this side of dallas, entitled hourglass. go 'head. support art and indie media by getting a subscription!

"3rd floor" is edited by katie rubright and heidi cunningham and i highly suggest you follow that katie link in order to experience the wittiest of witty blogs in cyberfunk. hers is currently under quarentine---damnitall---but perhaps you'll be satisfied with the scrolling of downs and then perhaps we could persuade her via a big comment bomb or mass purchases of "3rd floor" to persuade her to continue her written observations.

the mag is very impressive in it's purpose. to paraphrase from the thoughtfully written "intro." (in leu of a more accurate word): a portable art space where there are no artistic guidelines (though an emphasis on thoughtful art). and one of the many good quotes concerning the purpsose, "Our goal is to democratize art. To equalize who has access to viewing and participating in creative expression. To encourage people to think of themselves as creators of culture, not just consumers."

jasus, reading the whole thing now, it's like a bag of potato chips. hard to pick just one good quote.

i normally don't expect to see art mags take off. but this one has a lot of drive and purpose and idea and a real grass-roots hoopla that could carry it far. it seems to have good organization and an idea of what people will do. . .should do. . . for something they support. there is even a nicely done insert titled "3rd floor is an army of few. we'd like to work on that" and explains how to get more involved.

my blessings and gratitude are with organizations like 3rd floor that helps us lead active lives more for ourselves, for our creativity for the love of it, and less just because we have to. also, did i mention my picture is in it?! that's so cool.

so. you wanna get more involved? here's what the insert says:
_______________________________________________________________________
content

• submit art. visit http://www.3rdfloorproject.org for info on formats and deadlines.
• post information about events and opportunities on our discussion board.
• contribute to the nationwide critique and discussion on our website where every artwork in our print magazines is open to your feedback.

publicity

• link to our website from your site or trade banner ads.
• mail out our postcards or stick them in community centers, cafes and art spaces.
• distribute posters and stickers in your town: you can download them from our site or we can mail a package of materials to you.

distribution

• ask local independent bookstores to carry 3rdfloor magazine.
• become a distribution representative to get the mag to your town.
• table for 3rdfloor or circulate copies at events and art festivals.

fundraising

• subscribe. 18 dollars a year gets you a 4 print issues plus a cd/dvd issues (available only to subscribers). 3rd floor is also highly palatable as a gift subscription.
• throw an event, screen a film, or organize a concert to benefit 3rd floor project.
• advertise in 3rd floor-we offer discounted rates for nonprofits and collectives. classified ads are just 20 bucks.
• donate securely online. 3rd floor project is a 501(c)3 nonprofit organization (status pending.)

to get more involoved please contact katie@3rdfloorproject.org or h@3rdfloorproject.org. all forms of feedback and participation are indispensable.

st. patty's day flop

here penn is waiting patiently for mommy to apply pants and shoes so that we can go to the st. patrick's day parade. unfortunatley for me, there are two st. patty's day parades: one on greenville, centered a little more on drinking and pub crawling and the other downtown, centered a little more on irish heritage. i got the days mixed up and we ended up downtown on the wrong day of the parade.


but, the balloons enticed us to hang out in the west end for fun and food.


penn even saw his first real live horse, whose name is larry, and by the looks of his ears, is highly annoyed at our gawking.


we decided on joe's crab shack for their large patio and because of the lack of service at "on the border."


despite not being able to see penn's cute pursed little lips, he is indeed giving me a kiss.

we planned on attending the parade today, but an ill-timed interview with a couple about being their wedding photographer (i got the job!) caused us to miss the parade.

and damnitall 'cause i'm really stuck in this irish world after reading the phenominal "Angela's Ashes" and then "'Tis" by Frank McCourt. I'm currently reading "A Monk Swimming" by Malachy McCourt, Frank's brother. I went ahead and purchased "Singing My Him Song" by Malachy which i will begin very soon. I just found out hbo did a documentary on the mccourt brothers which i might as well purchase, for as you can see i'm hooked. a damn irish literature junkie. and after reading what the mccourt brothers had to say about st. patrick and the american celebration, i was truly jonesing for the parade.

alas, i got coconut shrimp, kisses and another gig, so who's complaining?

scents of college plus how to be a disgraceful friend

(gaah(n) wearing "mugzu" shirt)

this weekend felt like the scent of my college days. it was nothing close to the pure beauty of jamming out and growing in the presence of people who care about the real values of life because adulthood was still years away from it's attempt at oppression. but it certainly felt familiar.

i've a friend named gaah(n). i formally met him in london at the changing of the guards. he was on the same "ambassadors of music" tour as i was. strangers in a strange land together, we became fast friends and lo and behold he lived in little rock, arkansas where i was soon to move.

the dedication of the friendship was wonderful as to get together for anything required a drive. i can't count how many visits gaah(n) blessed me with while i was at college, while i was in hamburg and while i was in memphis. gaah(n) lived in denton, texas and i made my first trip to this big state with him to watch a dallas, stars game. he even paid for my ticket as a birthday treat.


and he saw more beauty in my writing and music than i did which helped me really search out my purpose and insight in writing music through his comments and critisizm and the value i carried for his opinion. he even recorded me playing the piano once and used it as an intro to a poem i wrote that he had transcribed to song. we wrote another song together called "train to donaghey." i can't explain the honor at these things, as not only is gaah(n) a kind, determined, and honest man, gaah(n) is a bonafide musical genius. you name it and he can play it, i swear to god. but, piano. gad, you should hear the man go. he also has the amazing ability of tracing any negative thing back to bush. all this and he's adorable.


i'm brimming with college memories that include gaah(n). i revel in the times we'd have a giant party at our apartment, everyone all hippied out and, umm, "enlightened," and gaah(n) would play a beatles abby road medley and we'd sing the whole 30 minutes or so of it. every word. i remember the annual christmas party with the annual christmas rituals. i remember . . . .ahhh. far too much to be writing here.

gaah(n) is currently in a band called bagg. (website address coming soon) we went to a fantastic bagg show our very first day in dallas. and since that night, i have done a shameful job of supporting gaah(n) musically, or keeping in touch. shameful. granted, i got pregnant a couple months after that first show, and then, well, there's the baby, and all that energy i used to have to support people and music went quickly and directly to support myself and penn, but that can't excuse everything.


gaah(n) called yesterday to come over before they played club dada. i was ECCSTATIC! but, i just had to run my glasses to the shop to get fixed so i could finally take my contacts out and not be legally blind----time it should take: less than an hour. time it actually took thanks to something i'll write about later plus traffic: more than an hour. and i missed the amazing gaah(n) by 20 minutes.

i came home and looked for something hard to bang my head against. and then i called mary and we went to the midnight show where i got all filled up on bagg and gaah(n) and being out in part of the world i don't get out in often enough.


after the show mary and i went to cafe' brazil for nachos and lattes and a giggle fit that lasted, i swear, 10
minutes straight, till we were crying and our sides split right off.


all because of these quotes:

• "hell yeah, little kid!"
• "can we just be honest now?"
• "i could have killed her long distance."
• "cheated on me and that girl got pregnant. moved away. moved away. thought he was going to cheat on me and didn't want to. and they all cried."
• "you're not dying and it's not your birthday, so fuck off."
• her: "but i tend to really like assholes." me: "well, that's your problem.
• "it's in my esophagus."

i'm desperatley sorry about my lack of dedication to such a rewarding friendship. apologies are meaningless now. all i can say is that i'm going to try harder to get a babysitter, damnit and if i fail, it's not because i don't love you gaah(n)!

who am i?

i don't know.

i am classified in scientific terms as a homosapien and science labels and categorizes me down until i am nothing. philosophy categorizes my thoughts and existentialism thinks me away. psychology categorizes my thoughts and labels that into an american-society approved list of virtues and flaws and then blames it all on someone/thing else. religion tells me my purpose is not for my own sake. my son tells me i am the world. my fiance tells me i fear and defend the questions he asks in order to find out who i am.

and this is a response to fiance.

because i have not defended anything, i have merely offered explanations, to the best of my ability, about who i am. nor am i afraid to find out who i am. i think there is great wisdom and enlightenment that comes from someone completely aware of their existence and purpose. i am not making any conscience attempt at denying who i am and the fact that benji doesn't believe me when i say i'm not making defenses leaves me weak and frustrated and hopeless and angry.

to take into consideration before i attempt to explain who i am: i've taken my share of philosophy and psychology classes. i've thought the thoughts that make logical the idea i do not exist; i am all a dream. the conclusion i came to was that i bought into all of it. it all makes sense to my desperately abstract brain. but, whatever this "existence" is, i enjoy waking to it each morn and will continue to act as though i am in fact a real human being.

as to the question, who am i?, i'm only able to offer, at this point in my life, characteristics and tendencies of my life and it's potential.

who i am isn't this body, although i think it's part of it. born short, korean, and attractive enough to not have a debilitating amount of physical issues, has led me to certain circumstances and people and experiences, and those experiences and the choices made therein are part of me.

as for big broad sweeps of some of my characteristics,

• i am a patient person.
• i am an intelligent, quick thinking person.
• i am a person who often gets aggrivated at slow thinking.
• i am a person hungry for new things.
• i am a logical person.
• i am an emotional person.
• i am a perfectionist and a clean freak.
• i am a creative person.
• i am a person who grows weak when it comes to seeing/hearing/reading/etc. anything that has to do with vomit or deformities or accidents or illness.
• i am a tolerant person.
• i am an open-minded person.
• i am a person who passes quick judgment on people or situations based on a "feeling", but unless it feels like a warning or a threat, i keep it reserved as that quick judgment and don't interact with people or situations based solely on that quick judgment.
• i am a passive person who hates confrontation.
• i am a person who understands that the majority of the world will tell you the sky is blue, and if you tell me otherwise and you tell me that otherwise is a fact, i will get angry.
• i am a person who will not tell you that the majority think the sky is blue if the majority does not think the sky is blue.
• i am as honest as i know how to be.
• i am a gentle person.
• i don't know that i am a particularly loving person because i have yet to concretely define the word "loving."
• i am selfish with my time and myself.
• i love myself; what i know about her and what i know about love.
• i do not hold grudges.
• i am a person that lives in the present and doesn't focus too much on the future.
• i focus next to nothing on the past.
• i am a person who wishes she would exercise regularly again and save money better.
• i am a person who enjoys being busy.
• i am a person who feels calm among chaos and chaotic around calmness.
• i am a person who could have been a better person a long time ago, but wasn’t strong enough.
• i am a person who has wasted talent.
• i am a person who doesn't have a lot of clutterable things, yet still has too many things.
• i am a person who won't dedicate an whopping amount of time to caring what anyone thinks.
• i am a person who doesn't expect, nor think it possible, for you to understand me.
• i am a person who likes to do things her own way.

and perhaps i should stop there. because in response to benji's conversation, i feel i must say i need to do things my own way. and that is part of my ego. perhaps i should put that ego aside and try it someone else's way. i should. i definitely should. my ego, ego's in general, should be put aside more often.

benji said my life was chaotic and wanted me to be still and calm and not say anything just to see if i could and i joked and talked the whole way through and we had, what i thought was a good, funny laugh at me being good and funny. as conversation continued i discovered it wasn't a good laugh. benji said my talking was refusing to take his "can i be calm and still" test and my refusal at his request for me to not read or do anything on the computer or watch tv or listen to the radio or partake of any media source or clean, etc.----do nothing---was refusing an evening with him. in my head i visualized me sitting on the couch staring at the wall. benji has work to do. a deadline to meet. i did not think it was a request to spend time together, i thought it was a request for me to sit on the couch and mediate, which i did not want to do. i would not have refused an evening with him.

• i am a person who oftentimes needs conversation to be literate.

enlightenment? sure. i want to get there. who am i? sure. i'd like to be able to answer that question in a way that satisfies benji. but, my answer satisfies me for right now. and when it comes to philosophical questions about my existence, i’m the one who matters.

• i already said i was a selfish person with my time and thought, didn't i?

"for right now" does not equate eternity. "who am i?" is not an answer someone can be pushed towards. and if i keep hearing words like, "defensive," and "scared" when i don't feel defensive or scared or in denial, i'm just going to feel misunderstood and then i'm going to feel combinations of weakness and anger. too much misunderstanding makes me weak. and then i'll stop explaining myself altogether and avoiding philosophical conversations altogether because they won't bring me relief for the answer because i never feel heard or understood. i only feel berated by phrases like "i'm older than you so i know more" and "i want to help those ready to understand more about being enlightened" and "you're just being defensive and making excuses." and we're probably not going to get anywhere if benji keeps saying that i keep saying that i’m not. and i don't know a way around it because i'm not going to admit something that isn't true to keep the peace.

i know benji has a lot to teach, but you can't force someone to walk before they can crawl and goddamnit if this is crawling then i want to crawl. you can't make someone change something if they don't want to change, much less realize what the hell they're supposed to be changing.

i feel happy. i feel at peace. could i feel happier or more peaceful? well, we'll see. probably. will i feel your happiness or your peacefulness? probably not. because i'm not you. i'm me. and perhaps i can't tell you what that is, but that doesn't mean i don't exist or that this existence isn't valid and important and really really------really wonderful. and because i don't desire your particular happiness or peacefulness doesn't mean that i don't admire and appreciate it.

i feel wonderful. i feel like i'm doing good in the world. and i feel like i could do a helluva lot more in the world both at the homefront and for mankind and for the whole blessed universe. maybe when i figure out what that "good" is that i’m supposed to be accomplishing is when i'll be able to tell who i am.

so, i think my current question to answer is: what is the good i can do?

right now i'm just a long list of characteristics and tendencies that crawl around pretending they exist.

for research: who are you?

no seriously. i would be grateful for any attempt at an answer.

all parents have issues with how to parent their child. benji and i are lucky enough to have the same goal (in leu of a better word) for penn. we desire that he be a happy human being that brings good to the world with all his thoughts and actions. we desire him to be at peace with himself. we desire that he have the opportunity to try out and achieve anything he is remotely interested in. we hope to instill in him a positive attitude, patience, love, kindness, empathy, diligence, honestly, mental strength and strong will.

but the little things would drive us crazy, if we let them. which we don't. but it won't make for a bad post, so i'll continue.

spanking
me: no spanking.
benji: not against spanking in a "thoughtful, loving methodical manner."

food
me: no soda pop, super-duper-low on fast food, no candy (for right now), and low on sweets. (fyi: penn and i are pescatarian .) we both eat mostly organic fruits and veggies, veggie meats, tofu, fish and pasta..
benji: whatever he wants to eat including soda pop, marshmellows, cookies, etc.
***benji has relented to my "no pop," but i've yet to convince him as to why pop is bad for a baby. ***

toilets
me: no playing in the toilet.
benji: "i'm not a germaphobe, i don't see what's so wrong with playing in the toilet."

spanking isn't quite an issue yet, and i control what penn eats. and because i control what penn eats, his favorite foods so happen to be ASPARAGUS, GREEN BEANS AND SWEET PEAS AND LOTS AND LOTS OF THEM PLEASE, MOM. i know. it's awesome and when i hear other mothers say, "oh, i wish my little johnny would eat vegetables," i groan inwardly because little johnny would if you fed it to him, and perhaps ate it yourself.

none of these things are really an issue that cause any real riffs or cause me to use much brainpower. it's only annoying when i don't know how to prove to benji that drinking pop and taking a dip in the comode are not good ideas. and that doesn't matter, i suppose, because my goal is for penn to have and maintain a healthy diet and he does, so why am i complaining?

because a small childish part of me wants benji to understand my points (which are just my points, not the law). that i think hitting a child teaches him through fear and not through respect. i especially hate it when parents teach their children not to hit by spanking/hitting them. how can that possibly make sense to a child? i can hit, but you can't? that i think penn's developing body should be grown with real food and not with things that have zero nutritional value. and that toilets have germs and illnesses come from germs therefore i don't want my child to stick his hands in toilet. or the toothpaste, for that matter, like he did this morning.

again, these things aren't real issues, it's just today's topic of discussion. and it's childish for me to want to prove to benji my points via some important document or doctors note. but, if you have any fuel for my fire i'd love to hear it.

I'm an oscar myer wiener man

for a week now, my blogger and photos have been confused. the html magically changes and you've every right to scoff and talk of impossibilities and joke that my computer's probably plugged into a potato or something, but i tell you with truth and conviction that it magically changes and sometimes i can fix it, and sometimes i can't. also, i only use potato's to clean out the hard drive. using it as an outlet would be stupid.

so, i instant messaged daniel, who then logged in to investigate. i told him to try adding text with the pictures.

of course it worked. of course. of fekkin' course. and because daniel's text is right on hilarious, i have left it up in this color.

on to the story.


"Hey, I have a d**k!"

yes. penn has found his penis. he spends half of his bath pulling and tugging and squeezing his penis to see what all it can do. and when he points to it, i say "penis" because i want him to call it a penis and not have to suffer words like "hoo-ha" and "wee wee" and "puddentang" like i did.

so while we were outside playing on the steps he sat down and did the above. i told benji he was looking for his penis, where penn pointed and smiled proudly that he did, in fact, know where his penis was.

"HEY EVERYONE WANNA SEE MY BIG OL' D**K!? WOO!!"

and then we all had a big ole laugh about it. and as daniel noted above, penn's penis size is above average. and yes, it's a very weird thing to talk about, we are aware, but between parents, and now the rest of the internet, it's just a little private conversation between friends that will in no way embaress him, unless of course, i print this and pass it out as party favors for his 16th birthday.


"Don't be jealous just because mine's bigger. God loves all his children, no matter how big. So do some women."

i also have a bad habit of refering to a diaper change as "changing your butt," which i really have to stop, because although little penn will smartly march into the bedroom for a good butt changing, he also says "butt butt butt" the whole way long.

and look at that face. it's far too cute and innocent to be marching around pointing at his penis and yelling out things like "butt."

i'm trying. i swear. i'm going to have to ditch this potty humor before he's, what, 4? somebody give me a number. we'll have a big swearing party and talk about farting a lot before penn catches on.

*after talking with benji about the weird feeling in his stomach over seeing the word "d**k" next to a picture of his son, i got it too and added astricks instead of letters.*