Today I took a step back into the past.  I was teaching the Montessoi kids gym today.  I forgot just exactly how obnoxious and incredibly loud they are.  I also forgot how even though they annoy the crap out of me, I really do like the majority of them.  They aren't bad kids, just aggravating when you have to deal with a dozen or so of them at the same time.  I haven't seen these kids for a about a year, they've all grown.  It really is amazing to watch puberty hit.  I noticed that some of the boys voices are starting to change, and some of the girls have gained some.... puberty weight.  You gotta love that awkward age.

I noticed that it would be really easy for me to slip back into my old job, almost as if the last year hadn't happened.  I feel competent and secure as the gym teacher.  There's no challenge anymore.  There's nothing new to learn from the position.  I'm good at it, and there's nothing wrong with that.  I miss the challenge.  I don't think it's a bad thing to feel comfortable in your job, but only if it's a career.  If it's a job... something needs to change.  I need to push myself, and I need to decide what course my professional life is going to take.  It's a hard decision to make, but it's got to be done.

My oh my, it has been a while since I've written in my blog hasn't it?  My normal excuse is that nothing is happening, so I have nothing to write.  My excuse this time is somewhat different.

On April 2nd, I was informed that my office was restructuring and that my position was no longer going to be required, as is.  I was told they were looking to hire an experienced book keeper rather than an overall receptionist.  They had been training me in Quickbooks recently, but from what I was told they needed someone who could take daily control of the finances.  Apparently, paying the bills and entering received bills doesn't quite count.  It's okay, maybe it was time to move on anyway.

My life is in a sort of flux at the moment.  I know what skills I possess, I'm just not sure how best to put them to use.  I can be a good administrative assistant.  I have the skills for the job and I do not mind doing the work.  What I'd love to do is find an administrative position in a.... different environment.  My previous position was in New York's Diamond District.  While I have no problem with the district, my company was so small that a lot of the time I was in the office alone.  Again, this wouldn't really have been a problem if my computer had speakers.  There's something very depressing about sitting in an office for up to nine hours alone, in silence.

Ideally, I would love to find a job in the field of publishing, even an administrative job.  Publishing encompasses so many fields, including the two I am most passionate about: children's literature and photography.  It's also a tremendously hard field to break into, as I'm finding out.  I won't give up though.  I know I'm meant to be in the publishing field somehow, some way.   

I have to leave for work in about ten minutes, so this is going to be a short entry.

I had a dream last night that a friend of mine died.  Scene 1.  He came to visit us, or we went to visit him, not sure which.  Him coming here makes more sense because other friends were in the dream, as well as some relatives.  I don't think it was supposed to be NY though.  It was just a familiar place, or maybe even just familiar people around me.  The dream did have a kind of... road trip feel to it.  Anyway, husband and I were spending time with my friend, N&C, Dev and her family, and my Uncle N was there too.  I know I'm forgetting some people....  I'm not sure what we were doing, but we had plans for the day.  Definite plans.  The first part of the dream that I remember was standing in a parking lot talking to my friend.  We were all happy.  No idea why we were hanging out in a parking lot.  We all went somewhere.  It was very warm.  We were walking around what could have been a Barnes&Noble, or an old house.  It's possible those were two different parts of the dream.  There was a book store and there was also a small too warm house.  I was talking with N.  When we all reconvened outside by the car, my friend wasn't there.  I asked Husband where he was and was told that he had died.  In a dream like way, I was the only one upset and surprised.  It seemed that everyone has had known, which was why N was supposed to keep me distracted in B&N.

Scene 2.  We were going to court to view a hearing.  Like watching Court TV live.  Dev and her family were very into it.  Come to think of it, my mother and step father were there as well.  Instead of long benches, or pews, that people sit on in court there were a bunch of mismatched arm chairs.  Husband and I had to get up a few times because other people wanted our seats.  I'm not sure what the "hearing" was about, I'm not even sure if we stayed for it, but it had something to do with my dead friend.

Scene 3.  Husband and I were driving an old silver car.  He was driving.  We had to pull over for some reason and happened to see an orthodox man and woman running towards a hospital we had just passed.  They were carrying their little daughter horizontally and pulling her throat down a little bit.  The little girl was choking, except, I don't think there was any sound coming from her in the dream.  They were running on the side of the road where husband had just pulled over.  We were already in the bushes and they couldn't get around us.  Someone, not sure if it was husband or not slapped the little girl on the back, hard, and she stopped choking. 

At this point, I can't remember any more of the dream, but everything was very detailed.  The parking lot, the house/courthouse, the book store, the leaves on the bush.  I don't think I've ever had a dream where someone just died before.  I wonder what that was all about...

When I woke up the cat was on top of the TV, on top of the cable box, staring at me.  Yup.

I'm doing it again.  Neglecting my blog.  I do care about it, but mostly I wonder if anyone reads it.  I'm really not sure since hardly anyone ever comments.  Does that matter though?  I mean, I write in this thing more as a catharsis for myself and less as a means of communication with the world.  However, the fact of the matter is that since this is a blog and not a private journal, I do expect it to get read and dissected by others, whether they know me or not.   Do I do my part?  Not really.  There are a couple of blogs that I follow, when I remember to.  Do I comment?  Nah.  I can understand why people don't comment on my page, yet, when someone I know in the real world tells me that they know I have a blog and just doesn't read it...  I'm not insulted exactly, but maybe... bewildered.  Why not just not mention it?

Again, I am sitting here at work, eagerly awaiting departure time.  I make it sound like I'm waiting for a plane.  I have about a half hour until I can leave.  Not so long.  I should download another book before I get on the train.  My ipod is dead and sitting on the coffee table at home, that won't help with my commute.  Fortunately, getting home is just a slight nuisance, not pure torture like it is for others.  I've got to say though, that while the travel isn't long, standing on a packed train, is really not very much fun.  Especially, when there's nothing to hold and you keep falling into other people.  My favorite is when you're standing in one spot and you have to shift to let someone pass you and then your shifted spot is not your permanent spot.  The shifted spot is always less comfortable than the original.  For me it usually involves being in someone's armpit.  I'm not a fan of the armpit.  It's just... not a very attractive part of human anatomy, and let's face it; the armpit has a tendency to stink.  Since this is winter, I'm spared the naked pit for the most part, but there are always people...

Okay, I'm nauseating myself.  Plans for the weekend anyone?  I still have to write thank you notes.  I know, I know, I'm evil.  I just haven't had time.  It requires concentration and uninterrupted time.  Time is the word of the day.  I wish I had more of it.  Or, rather, I wish I was able to use the majority of my day more productively.  Oh woes me.  Blah.  I'm tired.

Today is not a very good day.  I feel isolated, even when I'm with other people.  I miss being able to see my friend.  She hasn't been available lately.  It's not her fault, she started school again.  It's hard to go back to school.  I've done it before, it's hard to get back into the swing of things.  For me it was undergrad, for her, it's more of a graduate class.

There are just times you want someone to vent to, and I don't feel like I've been able to vent properly lately.  I always get the impression that people are interested in spending time with me, more because they need someone to vent to.  They don't seem to care especially what's on my mind.  Obviously, it depends on the person.  Some people are more interested than others.

Honestly, I think I prefer talking about other people's problems rather than dwelling on my own.  I don't think problems should slow you down, you deal with them and move on.  But they have to be dealt with.  I don't know what I'm rambling about.

Yes, I need some girl time.  Maybe that's all I'm talking about.

In other news....

My cat is officially a resident of my apartment.  He's still getting used to it.  I mean it's only been one day.  He'll be fine.  Now I just think I need to get a cat for my mother and step-father...

I did get to Ikea yesterday, but I didn't put any of the furniture together.  I don't want to freak out the cat with the banging and whatnot.  I'll probably do it with husband next weekend.

I guess I'll get back to my weekend.

Danny sitting on the couch for the first time.

I have been sitting alone in an office with only myself for company for a little over two hours.  My sentence is almost up, but I feel like I'm going mad.  I'm talking to myself, singing to myself, and possibly answering myself.  That is a sign of "losing it" right?

I have nothing going through my mind, except wanting to leave.  I am eagerly awaiting the beginning of my weekend.  I have plans.  Supposed plans that most likely the weather will ruin.  I plan to go to Ikea and get a replacement piece of "wood" for a damaged shelving unit.  I plan to buy the night tables that somehow husband and I forgot to get.  I plan to take a look at accent rugs for the bedroom, and I want to look at the fabric that they are selling.  The nautical pillows we got have a matching fabric, which I probably won't get, but will think about getting to cover my blow up chair, so it doesn't look like a blow up chair.  Of course that requires too much effort.  I don't sow, at least not especially well, so I will most likely not be making upholstery.  What else do I want to do at Ikea?  I just want to look at the chachkas.  I want to find the small homey things that it's time to get, now that we're done with major furniture.  The only thing we really have left to get are dining room chairs (which we really don't need right now), and a replacement TV which we can get whenever.  I'm thinking of getting a plant, but I need to make sure it isn't poisonous for the cat.  That leads me to later on...

I am planning on bringing my cat from my mother's place this weekend.  I haven't even seen him in.... two weeks?  I miss him.  I'll be seeing him tonight.  I'll see if he still remembers me.  It hasn't been that long, gotta give him some credit.  He'll be mad at me.  Stick his tail up at me as a rebuff.  Oh well, hopefully he'll get over it.  I miss hugging his furry little body and having him underfoot.  I think he'll like the new apartment.  It's cozy.  Cats like cozy.  True, he can't get under the bed, but hey, there's always his old stand by, closets.  I really can't wait to see him tonight.  I don't like being completely separated from him.  Even when he was living with my father I saw him a few times a week.  Now I never see him.  My mother and step-father are going to miss him.  Maybe I'll get them a cat at some point.  They say they don't want a replacement, but I know they really would love a cat if I got them one.  I hope my cat isn't too lonely in the new apartment, it's really too small for more than one cat.

Anyway, I have successfully rambled long enough, so that now it is time to start getting ready to leave.

Happy snowy weekend!

Recently, I have felt sapped of all creative energy.  Not only haven't I written in my blog, but I haven't continued either of the two stories I am currently in the middle of writing either.  There is a fog hovering over my my brain making movement, i.e. thinking, useless.  I am exhausted when I wake up.  I am exhausted when I go to sleep.  Often, I am exhausted between the two.  Something about fluorescent lighting, harshly painted white walls, and the constant glare of a computer screen do not work together in my favor.

I am lucky to have everything that I do, but there is so much more that I want, more that I expect from myself.  Something doesn't have to be hard to fulfilling, I don't believe that.  Somehow though, it has to hold your interest.  If you are doing something repetitive and completely monotonous, you are either a boring person, or don't see yourself equipped to do something better.  There is of course the other option of having no other choice in the matter.



Truth: a job is not who you are or what you're worth, it's what you do.  It's hard to remember that sometimes.





I wrote this on October 27th and never published it.  Here tis.

To continue my apparent theme of the week...

I had a dream last night about the difficulties of buying a bra.  Yes, friends, a bra.  I know that in the dream I was shopping in an absolutely huge space (for a bra shop).  It reminded me of the layout of a New York & Co. store actually.  It was very bright, with overhead fluorescent lighting and very large windows that sun was pouring into.

I had brought an old bra with me to forgo the formalities.  I came to buy, not shop.  I handed the woman my old bra and said, "I want to get another one of these.  I'd also like to get it in black."  She just looked at me like I was crazy.  I think it turned out that those bras hadn't been made in years, or something like that.  I had to proceed to look for a completely new style of bra.

The dream was interesting only because it reminded me that I need to get myself to Linda's before the end of the month, since I have voucher that will expire then.  I hope they haven't changed bras too much since the last time I was there.  Maybe all the bras are square now, or made of aluminum.  Who knows?

Ever have a dream about driving?  I dream about it all the time.  Not regularly, but enough for it to be a theme in my night time endeavors.  In my dreams I am usually forced to take the wheel after whoever is driving becomes incapacitated in some way.  Either the person leaves me with the car thinking that there is no way I'll have to drive, or some crazy situation occurs.  I should mention that when I take the wheel, things happen.  Usually the car is going over 90 mph and the brakes don't work.  My job is to make sure I don't crash the car, which is no easy feat when you are plowing through red lights and dodging other cars going at normal speeds.  Parking the car usually involves being on top of another car.  Why this makes sense in the dream, who knows?  In one of these dreams I was forced to drive a car around a never ending amusement park.  At one point the car and I ended up on a carousel and I was forced to jump from one ferris-wheel car to the next as the wheel turned.  Does this make any sense?  No, of course not, it was a dream.  Eventually, I had to "jump" off the carousel onto the roof top of a building.  All of this was happening because, if I remember correctly, there were too many pedestrians on the ground.

My driving dreams all follow the same pattern.  Complete loss of control.  I don't like having control taken away from me.  I don't especially like being told what to do, or how to do things.  This is not news.  I don't mind following along (if what I'm following makes sense), but I do like to have at least some semblance of rationality attached to whatever I am doing.  Maybe that's why I am not the biggest fan of organized religion.  There is no rationality, just traditions and mindless followings.  I know that isn't true for everyone, but I think most of the masses that call themselves religious have never stopped to think about what or why they do the things they do.  Faith, by definition, is not rational.

Dreams are not rational.  They express our inner fears, wants, desires.  They show us things that maybe we would otherwise not think about.  There are those that think dreams have the power to show us glimpses of the future.  Just bits and pieces, something that hasn't happened yet.  I am one of those people.  Is that rational?  Not at all.  I am a mass of contradictions.  I am human.  I generally enjoy dreaming, there is a sense of freedom that comes along with it, a sense of omnipotence perhaps.  In our dreams anything is possible, anything could happen and usually does.  Waking up can be welcome, or it can be a slap in the face-- depends what you've been dreaming about.

(Feel free to analyze my driving dreams for yourself.  No Freudian comments please.)

I had a dream about you the other night.  It made me realize that I haven't seen you in over two years and that I haven't had a real conversation with you in longer.  I have dreamt about you in the past.  Usually, the dreams are cute, funny, and involve a sort of journey.  One of them was at a country house I've never been to or seen.  That dream was full of light and airiness.  We talked.  About what?  I don't remember.  In the more recent dream, it turned out that you had been hiding in plain sight.  I mean hiding, literally.  You were under a blanket on the couch.  My mother pointed you out to me.  You thought I hadn't known you were there, but I did.  You wanted me to leave you alone, so I did.  In this dream, I figured you would come to me when you were comfortable.  My mother blew up your spot though.  You couldn't believe that I had known you were there the whole time, watching, waiting.  I can't remember now if you were mad that I hadn't told you to stop hiding, or grateful that I wanted to let you come out on your own.  I don't remember much more about the dream, only that it was... nice.  It was nice talking to you again, even if the reality was that I was speaking to my own subconscious.

I do wonder where you are, and what you're doing, what's going on in your life.  You have always managed to evoke strong emotions from me, whether happiness, anger, or pure confusion.  One time I was house sitting for my father.  You called me up, which was different in and of itself because you usually didn't call me, and started yelling.  I can't remember what it was about, but I do know that I yelled back.  This happened two times.  Both times I found myself crying, which is something that, at that time, did not happen especially often.  The strange part was that I didn't mind.  You were my friend.  You drove me absolutely crazy, but I still looked forward to the next time I was going to see you or talk to you.

I understand that people grow apart, change.  There's nothing wrong with that.  It can't be helped.  Usually, it's gradual.  Drifting.  This wasn't subtle though.  Sudden.

Where are you?  Are you okay?

Some people are scared of failure to such a degree that they are afraid to ever complete anything.  Others strive to complete anything, afraid of not finishing enough.  I find it interesting how these two very different types of people are also so similar.  They are both afraid of not fulfilling some sort of promise they've made to themselves (or others) about what their allotment of accomplishment is in life.  However, one is too scared to try and the other is too scared not to try.  They are opposite sides of a coin.  Oxymoronic, I know.

Anyway, moving on.  I'm starting to look for apartments.  I would like to stay in my general area, it's nice, it's safe, and it's close to the subway.  I can't live anywhere I can't get to work from.  I also can't live anywhere my husband can't get to work from.  He likes my area.  In the next couple of weeks, we'll probably start looking in person.  As for right now, I'm looking to see what's out there on the world wide web.

Looking for apartments is scary because you don't know what you're going to find.  You don't know if the pictures you see are going to match what you expect or not.  You don't know if what you can afford and what you need are going to mesh perfectly, they probably never do.  I expect any apartment we get to be some sort of compromise between what we need and what we can afford, but that's life.  I just want to get a place and start a life together.  That's really all that matters.

Gotta be happy.

Worry is an interesting emotion.  It can come on you suddenly, almost without provocation.  It can be a dull nagging worry, a strong persistent throbbing of worry, it can even be a knot of worry bubbling in your stomach.  The version that hits me most often is the knot in the stomach worry.  The thing that is most fun about it, has got to be the nausea.

I tell people all the time that worrying never leads to anything productive.  The act of worrying, all by itself is useless. ' How did I do on my math test?'  'It's over, what's done is done, worrying about it won't change anything.'  The problem with worry, is that it can be about anything that happens in your life, absolutely anything.  You bump into a person on the street, you can worry if you hurt them.  You can worry that they might have hurt you.  You forget to buy your wife the right kind of toothpaste, you worry about it.  Maybe you forgot something on your desk at work, so you worry about it.  To borrow from Everybody Loves Raymond, Ray Romano gets sneezed on and spends the next twenty five minutes worrying if he's going to get sick.  Eventually, he does.  Yes, what you worry about can happen.  Does that mean that everything we ever worry about WILL happen?  No.

I usually find it unproductive to worry about things that I cannot change.  Does that mean I never worry?  Hell no.  I worry all the time.  I worry about people, and people's reactions to me.  Do I live my life caring what other people think of me?  No.  Do I care what other people think sometimes?  Of course.  I think most of the time I spend worrying, is time spent worrying about other people.  There are certain people in my life that cause me great worry.  I find myself being scared for them when I think of them, which is often when I'm in the process of a worry.  The fear is the worry and the worry is the fear.  I know I can't change people, I don't think I'd want to if I could.  I just wish people would be more secure with themselves and not rely on outside stimuli to prove... everything to themselves.

Worry is only a useful emotion when it leads us into doing something productive.  If we worry about things, but change nothing, we'll always be worried about the same things.  I guess that's human nature though.  We think we change as we get older, that our impulses slow down and keep us steady.  Maybe what it really is, is our long term worry catching up with us.

I know I'm not going to stop worrying about my friends and family, just like I know that cats are not suddenly going to start talking.  It's a fun wish though.  Imagine a worry free life...  Would it even be worth it?  Worrying is part of what makes me me.  Take that away, and what are you left with?  Something else to worry about.

I seem to have slipped again into not writing in my blog.  I guess I don't want to say anything unless I actually have something to say.  Well, I'm not sure how long this entry is going to be, but I would like to tell the blogging world that I am officially married!  The planning process is over, everything has been done, and now I can relax with my husband... after the thank you cards.  We have to start on that this weekend.

I really would like to thank anyone and everyone who came to the wedding, you all made it special for us in your own way.  I will post honey moon pictures soon.

I love my husband very much and I am excited to be starting a new life with him.  Mwahh!

It's 103 degrees right now, I just thought I'd mention that.

People can be so unbelievably cruel and not even know it.  Controlled and manipulated we go throughout our day, our lives.  We believe one set of instructions, set of rules, and we follow them, whether they're good or not.  You know that old saying, "if (enter name) told you to jump off a bridge would you do it?"  Well, we're all supposed to say no, obviously, jumping off a bridge would not be a great idea.  However, if the right person who had been conditioning you for years, asked you that question...  I bet a lot more people would say yes than we'd like to think.  

We are remarkably weak as a species.  We seek out strength, we are drawn to it, like the cavemen were drawn to women with a child bearing body type.  We have very little control over our emotion and when pushed, our emotions get the better of us.  We reach out and burn our remaining calm and let anger take over us.  The anger makes us strong and it makes others vulnerable in our wake.  We strive to control, until our anger is released.  The anger is never gone though, just depleted momentarily, or displaced.  We've made someone else angry and the whole cycle begins anew with a different person until it comes back to us.  The cycle of anger.

We need one another yet we push each other away, it's really remarkable that anybody is happy in this world, utterly remarkable.

Macbeth, by William Shakespeare

First Witch

Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Second Witch

Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

Third Witch

Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.

First Witch

Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.

ALL

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch

Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Third Witch

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

ALL

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

 (http://shakespeare.mit.edu/macbeth/macbeth.4.1.html)

standing packed like a sardine in a can
nowhere to sit, standing with arms in your face
minty breath and bad odors
pushing through the crowds to get out
freedom.

heat hits your face as you walk down the block
smoke travels up through your nose into your nostirls
people walking, shoving
crowds moving
impatient.

sun blasts down on you making your skin warm
cold air erupts from open doorways
always moving, never standing still
bypassing those who just stop as if stuck in the ground.

heels clicking
tight skirts
long perfect legs
bright hazy concrete burning your eyes.

Gold, we buy gold!
Diamonds, lady need a diamond!
no questions
just yelling, selling
work.

Like I said yesterday, friendship is an interesting question.  We all need love and companionship to survive, everyone.  Anyone who says they don't is either lying or in serious denial.

What does being a friend mean?

• someone who listens
• someone who is there for you, whether you're having a bad day or not
• someone who doesn't mind hearing about your day
• someone who you can share your secrets with
• someone who you can trust to keep your secrets
• someone who will tell you when you are just plain wrong
• someone who you can talk to about anything

A friend is basically a platonic version of your significant other, but maybe with more honesty, since we tell our friends things about our significant others.  We all need someone to complain to.  A friend is an important part of life, and sometimes, it's very hard to find a good one.  Try and keep them close.

Friendship is an interesting question.  How do we know who our real friends are?  Is there even such a thing in a friendship?  People change over their life time, is it possible for us to keep the same friends?  I think I have had, since childhood, about ten close friends, not all at the same time.  I'm also not including family in this grouping.  Of those ten people, how many of them do I still talk to?  Maybe four or five, but they are not all still very close to me.  I would say that at the moment I have two friends who I see on a regular basis and whom I can talk to.

I never expect friendships to last forever.  But, it makes me sad that they don't.  Am I going to be able to rely on the same people I have now, in ten years?  How about five years?  Will I still even be talking to them?  Life changes in unexpected ways.  One never knows what tomorrow will bring.

I'd say generally speaking there is a leader friend and follower friend.  I am a follower.  Yes, I have opinions, but I'd say I leave plans up to other people, I very rarely make people do things they don't want to do and when I do, I feel guilty about it.  I don't care what the general population thinks about me, but I do care what my friends think of me.  I am easy to speak to and have a tendency to be the listener of the group, even though sometimes, I can't shut up.  Do we all sensor our thoughts and emotions with our friends?  I do.  I think it's a good practice.  We have a billion thoughts coming into our heads all the time, if we said everything we thought, whether it be nice or not, the world would be a much noisier place.

I know I'm rambling and not making the most sense in the world, I am just trying to do a study of friendship.  I'll probably continue later.

Last night I guess you could say I had my first taste of NYC fancy nightlife.  I went to an Andy Warhol book signing/cocktail party.  Actually, the author of the book was stuck in a dark corner behind some curtains and looked really sad.  My friends and I didn't even notice he was there until we were leaving.  I've decided that the party was supposed to be a type of party Andy Warhol would have thrown.  While we were expecting art, or some semblance of art, we were instead inundated by performance artists.  They were definitely interesting, or should say their costumes were interesting, since I didn't talk to them, I really can't be sure how interesting they actually are.  They looked like they were having fun though, so that was cool.  There was one guy rolled up on the floor, he was the human rug, and he wanted people to walk on him and jump up on down on him.  I did not do it, although two of my friends did.

We actually spent the majority of the evening outside on the patio, just sitting with our own little group talking.  It was fun, but we could have just as easily been sitting together in a restaurant.  There was no mingling, which is fine with me, I'm not a mingler.  There as no dancing, which I think certain people were disappointed with, but again, I'm not a dancer, so I was ok.

We left the party around 12:30 I guess and between certain people (you know who you are!) wanting dinner,  slow moving trains, and uncomfortable shoes, I didn't get home until about 3:30am.  Considering I didn't go to sleep until my friend told me he was home (about 4am), and I woke up at 7:30am, I'm surprisingly functional today, just tired.

The only part of the evening I was not thrilled with was the constant "Where are you?" texts from my mother.  I told her I was going out, I told her I was going to be home late.  Granted I was out later than I thought I would be, but I still told her about this.  I told her I who I was with, I told her one of my friends ( a guy) was going to bring me home.  This was not enough for her, she just kept texting me.  I understand that she was worried, but there was no reason she should have been.  I was texting her back and forth all night, unwillingly, telling her where I was at that particular moment all evening, until I got in the train.  I get it, she's a mother, she's also a natural worrier.  However, I have never given her reason not to trust me and would therefore like a little slack.  Is this what's it's going to be like when I move out?  Is she going to monitor where I am all the time?  I'm getting married in 42 days!  You'd think I was an adult... oh wait, I am.

I do not believe that a the very root of humanity, we are all good with pure souls.  I also don't believe that we are all evil.  There is a fine line between being a good person and doing good things.  To me, being a good person involves trying to live your life well, and being the best you, that you can be.  Obviously, if what you like to do is kill people, then doing the best you can, in that scenario, would not make much of a difference, you still would most definitely not be a good person.

I find that most people do good things to get rewarded, which would mean that we do "good" for our own personal gain.  Is there really anyone out there that on some level does not want to get rewarded for their actions?  If that is the case, can there be a pure motive for being a good person?  Should there be?  Does the reason matter if the good deed gets done anyway, or is the good within the deed nullified because of the motivation behind it?  I know these are not unique questions, nor will I come up with unique answers.  I find myself pondering on it though as I think of what's going on in my own life and the excuse, "I was just following orders."

If someone you care about tells you to do something that you know is wrong, and possibly hurtful, do you do it anyway out of loyalty, or do you stand your ground and make your own decision based on what you feel to be right?  Which of these actions would make you a "good person?"  Should that even be a consideration?  Sine this is my blog, I suppose I should offer an answer to these questions, although honestly, there is no one right answer for me or for anybody else.  Nothing is cut and dry like that, and if you think it is, you're probably not especially intelligent.

My personal belief is that you should not do something purely out of loyalty.  You should consider the situation and make an informed decision based on all available facts.  Listen to both sides of the argument, and figure out what you believe to be right.  That's what I meant earlier by trying to be the best you, that you can be.  The decision that you make, might not be the same decision that your friend would make, or your mother would make, or your brother would make.  Does it matter?  To the universe, our individual decisions are probably not worth very much.  However, to our universe, our existence, each decision we make forms our personality and forms new realities with which we have to live.  There is a consequence to every action, and we have to be prepared for that.  Whatever the choices are, and whatever we decide, we must stay true to ourselves.  As long as we do that, the question of being a good person should not even come up.

I know that my job in life is not to save everybody.  I am the type of person who is very loyal to my friends and when something happens to one of them... I feel it.  I'm not the most sympathetic person in the world, but I am incredibly empathetic.  I don't show it outwardly all the time, not to everyone, if fact, I think I generally come across as stoic, I've been told heartless.  It's an appearance, a front.  I don't like people to know I'm feeling emotions.  I don't know why.  Maybe it's because my family was never overly demonstrative.  I think it's better that way actually, but that's another story.

My point is that what my friends are feeling, I feel too.  I also intuit emotions, so that even if they aren't outwardly showing something is bothering them, I'm likely to know there is something whether I say anything about it or not.  Right now, my stomach is in knots of worry.

There are some people that can take care of themselves, they might go through a rough patch every now and then, but they'll manage to get through it.  Then there are the people who need help getting through life, but are able to accept help from friends and/or family.  It's the third group I worry about most, people who desperately need help, but don't take it, don't want it, and won't accept it when offered.  I know there's nothing I can do about this third group, but still... there's always a chance...

I know my job in life is not to save everybody, but maybe...