FAT FAT FAT
today is fat tuesday. all the kids at school are bedazzled with purple, green and gold clothes and mardi gras beads. it's a sensory overload.
aw dang
i just played a show at starbucks. it went fairly well from a musical standpoint, although i still dont feel at 100%. i gave my personal 120% but i think it might have sounded more like 80%. whatever. percent THIS. here's the rub: NO ONE PUT PESOS/RUBLES/DOLLARS/CANDY/SILLY STRING in the TIP JAR. so i am a little bummed about making the effort to go play (i am still recovering from the sickness of strep) in the crap snow weather. there were definitely people there too. HERE'S A TIP FOR YOU READERS AT HOME: when you go to a show (that is free) and there is a tip jar put out, put something in it. playing a show is hard work. let musicians know you appreciate them. if you like what you hear, give 'em a dollar. if you DONT like what you hear, give 'em a dollar anyway...it boosts moral and spreads good cheer to all. otherwise musicians much like myself go home frustrated and post sarcastic blog entries. you dont need to agree with me, but my opinion is that artists should be paid in some way for what they do. and my opinion happens to be correct. oh yes, even you college students. i know you have a dollar out there. dont buy that soda tomorrow--save those quarters and dimes for a rainy day and go out there and support your favorite local artist. i'm telling you, it means the world to us. and encourages us to keep writing (which is what you want, right?) I am going to bed. unlike fine wine, some blog entries do not improve over time.
all in the family
my sister just told me today that she was obsessed with my blog. sometimes i forget that my family reads it. not that it matters, but occasionally my mother will reference it. and it is just funny. my family kicks booTAY. especially my niece. i'll post a picture just so you can all bask in the glory that is bridget marie peck
a few updates
1. my health has improved.
2. i still love my job.
3. so, that elephant? the one who beats me with uprooted trees? i tried to give it a talking to last night. turns out it breathes fire (i think it's a dragon. for real.)
4. promptly following this encounter, an elephant from my past decided to pay my cell phone a visit. no biggie--this particular elephant knows its place. but seriously, folks. i really do not have room for two elephants in my life. maybe one day when i am as grey and wrinkled as those elephants we can all sit down for a quiet cuppa. until then.
grrr
sometimes there is nothing worse than an ugly realization. it can make your head spin.
paper faces on parade
this is my fourth attempt at this blog entry. hrmph. last night i got this email from an old high school friend. we were the kind of friends that spent many hours chatting on the phone, but i knew we wouldnt stay in touch forever. that is probably my fault to a large degree. maybe it would have been different if we had graduated the same year, but we didnt and i frankly could not wait to leave high school behind me. i never really liked it and i was always bothered by cliche highschool dynamics and politics. i generally moved freely within "cool" circles, invited to parties and what not, but i often chose against attending. fact is, the concept of getting drunk off your ass has never been particularly appealing to me. I also could not stand how much people talk badly about each other. you really couldnt go anywhere without hearing a "not-cool" person maliciously slandered. and i hated it. i hated the great divide, the social heirarchy, uban/suburban disconnect, the rich/poor dichotomy and everything that went along with it. i hated jokes about getting aids since i had dear friends with the disease, i hated when people told me they felt bad for me because i lived IN the city, i hated when other people made blanket statements about suburbia snobs. i hated social injustice, and everything that went along with it. i found that i ended up being a social-chameleon of sorts. i went out of my way to make people feel comfortable in their own elements. even my word choices would change depending on whether i was hanging out with kids from the streets of south philly or kids whose parents took them to tropical islands for vacation. some of my close friends had been doing hard drugs for years and others did not know if marajuana was something you smoked or drank. i became all things to all people, yet maintained my personality. there were (and still are) some people that i honestly have no idea why i became friends with them in the first place. they were not particularly personable or friendly or fine upstanding citizens, but i loved them tremendously. i would go out of my way to spend time with them. sometimes my worlds would collide and make things a little tense for some people. my graduation party was one of the funniest nights. i felt like everyone was staring at each other like they were meeting alien life forms for the first time. Some people had multiple piercings all over their faces and others had probably purchased their turtlenecks from LL Bean's fall line. the kids from the hood and the kids from prep schools might as well have been speaking a different language. all i was trying to do was fascilitate normal conversations, but everyone sort of clumped together with the people that looked just like themselves. basically there were about four micro-parties happening simultaneously.
(people are so fascinating to me. kids in high school are often sad and needy and require frequent affirmation regardless of what circles they move in. when it comes down to it, i basically believe we are all in the same boat and have the same needs. these needs are most obvious in small children. i dont think the needs change as we get older, we just get much better at hiding them)
but anyway, about this girl who emailed me. i always really enjoyed spending time with her. she was the sort of girl who cried easily but always out of a good heart. she was compassionate and free and loving and eager to make people happy. she seemed to have an endless flow of life that she passed around to everyone at every opportunity. boys fell in love with her and sometimes she didnt notice because she was so busy loving everyone else. girls wanted to be like her and occasionally hurt her out of jealously, but she loved them all the same. she really tried hard not to be a side-taker and it wounded her deeply when people attempted to force her hand. she easily told people she loved them, but you really believed it coming from her. she was visibly uncomfortable when people would bad mouth people she knew and then ask her opinion. if you had to name a fault, it was that she was too nice. she could not bear the idea that anyone she knew was "bad" so she would always try to find a reason why you-really-couldnt-blame-them-because-you-had-to-understand-that-everyone-has-a-different-background-and-who-knows-what-might-have-happened-to-them-recently-that-would-make-them-act-this-way-but-she-was-sure-it-was-something-because-they-were-really-nice-people. in that way, she was always a much better woman than i. i form poor opinions more quickly than i would like to and then i have to work at deconstructing those opinions. as it turns out, you never know what sort of impact your friendship might have on someone else. this particular girl has since moved to the West Coast and seems to be living the life of her dreams doing exactly what she always wanted to do. i've thought about her off and on the past several years but always figured that our relationship was just fated to remain in a particular time in life. she mentioned in her email that when she moved she took with her something i made for her birthday years ago. she also told me i was always one of her favorites growing up (coming from her, i believe it). i would say likewise. it just goes to show that you are never done learning from your past. if you forget where you came from, you might forget who you are.
here's to headaches
...this one's a killer. i'll try to sleep it off.
hum de dum
here i am, restless and bored. being sick is a terrible thing because it alienates you from the world AND from yourself. i do not think i have a fever any more (which is nice) but i do wish i had a bunch of people who would suddenly feel this burning desire to come cook dinner at my house and just be fun and lively AROUND me. hey. it could happen.
the elephant in the room
it's funny what people do to feel "normal", or how far they go to ignore giant issues. In relationships, it can seem easier to pretend the elephant does not exist. over the past few weeks i have had a few "normal" converstions that end up exhausting me. it feels like we work so hard to dance around and jump up and down to see and yell over the elephant without actually addressing it that we eventually get worn out and have to take a break. so we sit in the dust with our heads in our hands and gasp for air while that damn elephant casually chews grass and uproots trees. it is alive and strong. we, on the other hand, could probably use a few stiff drinks. sometimes i get really creative. in the words of my friend tony, it could be worse. "exactly!" i think. "i've been through worse. this should be no problem. this elephant won't beat me. i know all of it's tricks."...and with the grace of a circus performer i proceed to climb on to the elephant's back and triumphantly survey my surroundings. oh ho! i think to myself. i've got this under control because i am standing on top of it. i can see EVERYTHING and we can proceed with our ever-so-normal conversation. "HOW ARE YOU?" i yell. "OH FINE." he yells back. *elephant trumpets loudly* "YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE DOING WELL." he bellows. "OH ME? I'M AN OLD PRO." i bellow back. *elephant trumpets again, rears its head and stands up on its back two legs. i maintain my balance.* "BEAUTIFUL DAY, ISN'T IT?" I call out. "SURE IS." he calls back. *elephant runs in circles* "WELL, GREAT TO SEE YOU." he shouts. "YOU TOO. TAKE CARE." i shout back. *elephant swats at me with aforementioned uprooted tree.* we smile and wave frantically at each other while we retreat to replenish our energy. but don't worry. we'll have another go tomorrow. who knows, perhaps if we continue to steadfastly refuse to acknowledge the elephant, it will get bored and just walk away.
deja vu. all over again
there are just some memories you dont want to revisit. one of those is the memory of how totally miserable i was last summer when i thought i had strep throat...only to find out it was really mono. so. yesterday i was feeling pretty sick and i went home from work early. TODAY i was so sick that i crawled from my bed to the phone and called the doctor to schedule an appointment. they said i could come in 45 minutes later. i called a friend and she ended up driving me to the doctor. turns out i have strep. hooray. last time around, that diagnosis turned out to be fun. fun like a hole in my hand. yes well, it happens.
the gift that keeps on giving
i work with children on the autistic spectrum. I spend most of my time going to school with one particular small friend. It's so funny. I am supposed to be this influence of good and help him learn how to navigate through life, but usually the opposite occurs. I will be truly sad when he no longer needs servives. you see, both he and i have had a tough week. granted, since i am three times his age, we deal with different issues but i believe they are proportionately the same amount of pain. as i watch this amazing little boy struggle through the pains of growing up in a hard world, i can't help but relate to him.
last week in school we learned about morals in a story and proverbs to live by. ("slow and steady wins the race" was an overwhelming favorite among the students.) It can be hard to gage how much info kids soak up, but last week i experienced an especially heart melting situation. we were in gym class, and the assigned task was to balance in what is called a three point tip up. basically it involves forming a tripod with your head and hands while balancing your knees on your elbows for ten seconds. this is an activity that my client is physically not able to sustain. it by no means relfects on his cognative abilities or his willingness to try, however. I watched him try, fall, get back up, try again, fall again, cry a little, get back up and keep on trying. this went on for several minutes. it was all i could do to hold back tears. i suggested that he take a break if he needed to and told him that he was making great progress and i did not want him to get so worn out that he would get hurt. he just kept telling me that he couldn't quit now and that he just needed to keep trying. i told him i would stay right with him. "i will never give up! i know i can do it! i want to keep trying" was all that he said. what incredible determination. he did manage to make some improvements, but in the last 15 minutes of class was unable to master the skill to meet the satisfaction of the teacher. he fell again and wiped a tear off of his cheek with the back of his hand. he turned to me and whimpered "present failure will lead to future success!" He immediately got back on the mat and kept trying.
it was incredible.
i often think god interacts with me in the same way. he sees my struggles and watches me wrestle with life but allows it to occur because the lessons i learn are invaluable to me. he knows all the while that i really can not sustain it on my own...but he picks me up each time i fall and allows me to struggle again. it is actually quite beautiful.
my heart broke that day. but there was nothing i could do to help this little person. i had to just watch him and love him and allow him to learn. somtimes the lessons are difficult, but the process is the most important thing. you have to live through things to really understand them.
all things common to man
i met the most delightful person last night. he is an artist in pittsburgh who has had a full and difficult life. but he is FREE in many ways. it was wonderful to share our life philosophies with each other and learn more about life. he has created a book of primitive ink drawings that captures what i believe to be the condition of man. although we come from vastly different spiritual backgrounds, this journeyer and i share a common belief: life is not about the final destination, it is about the process. he has a drawing called the running man. he identifies himself with the running man and enjoys life's uncertainty. for me, that sums up what i believe is fundamental to life. run in such a way as to win the race. but part of the beauty in it for me is the process, is the journey. it is what teaches us and refines us. the things that are ultimately true reveal themselves in many ways. there are many moments in my life where i learn more about god and the beauty of redemption from sources that at first may appear to contradict my christian perspective. all things are common to man, the greatest being a knowledge of god, no matter how deeply it is burried. what an amazing place to start. find a common ground, find the piece that i know is true and share my joy of my great freedom that has been given to me. Christ's grace and redemption is much larger than i can fathom. and it is appealing. Christianity is not appealing to many, but Christ is. man's soul cries out for reconciliation and redemption and restored relationship. this is the beauty of it: salvation has been created. the earth rejoices.
old friends
people from my past occasionally flash into my mind and make me remember parts of myself. the other day, i thought about someone i have not seen in years. i found myself wondering how he was doing and if he is happy. I also wonder what it would be like to see him now. while it would be nice, i am not convinced it would be sustainable. He and i used to see each other once a year at a family conference during the summer. our parents were friends, so we became friends at a relatively young age. we started spending time together more specificly when i was in high school. i always liked how tall he was and how strong. he had a really nice face and smelled like cedar and old spice. he smoked cigars and other things and drank too. sometimes he would make out with girls and then he would hold them and then eventually they would hurt him and he would get really quiet and go off by himself. sometimes he would let me sit with him and we would think big thoughts and dream big dreams and watch the stars come out and the sun come up. he drank coffee and skipped required events but did so in a quiet and deliberate way that made me love him. he was intimidating to be on the wrong side of and when he grew angry it made me afraid, and still i loved him. he was the first boy i ever wrote i song about. i dont think i ever showed him that song. we never fully understood each other but each of us longed to be known. he was powerful and angry but gentle and controlled around me. he talked about important thoughts and ideas and whispered to me that sometimes he considered suicide. sometimes he would find me and want to talk, which usually meant lying on our backs listening to water crash on the sand in the night. we were old souls in young bodies. truly beautiful things wounded us and we starved for them. we communicated strongly in languages that did not use words. i would sing songs and he would draw pictures on scraps of paper and show me his photography. he would play the guitar while my fingers itched to move like his. he loved dark things, dark music and movies. he wanted a woman to love and protect and take care of and i wanted to care for and love and protect someone too. in that way we loved each other fiercly, but it was always temporary. at the end of the week we would go back to our lives and forget about each other, but not entirely. he had clear gray-blue eyes that were often sad and had grown old much faster than he had. he sent me a school picture one year. i never threw it away. it is still at my parent's house in a box somewhere along with other memories. he told me about girls he had loved with his whole heart and i told him about boys that had broken mine. together we nursed the deep wounds of heartache and he would hold me because he needed to and i needed to. he was older than me and it showed. he would swear and grumble in the morning and i would tell him not to and he would look at me. not for very long, but steady and strong, like his body was. he was patient with me. his face rarely changed and when it did it was barely perceptible--just the slightest shift in muscle tension right above his eyes. his eyes were foreign and untame and slightly defiant. it was a quiet dare for anyone to try to mold him. he would look at me and i would say i was sorry. i would not bring it up again and he would stop swearing for a while. he had broad shoulders and strong arms that would stiffen and betray his opinions on god and life and people. his voice was soft and low but carried an intensity that made you pay attention to it. he enjoyed the company of others until they reached the age of five or so and then he tolerated them. in many ways we could not have been more different, but something about the combination of time and place and circumstance made it work. he was the reason i wanted to come back the next year and the year after that, but there was never the certainty that he would be there although i was certain he cared for me in his own way. it was a safe place for me. it was a place we could come and be completely divorced from our day to day lives. and maybe one of the only places where we could be completely ourselves because there was no risk and no responsibility. eventually real life won the tug-of-war and we both stopped returning. every so often i revisit it in my mind, but i dont think i could go back. in fact, the very idea makes me afraid. I have frozen snapshots locked in my brain that i am afraid would be permanently altered if i tried to. so i guess for now i am content to live with my memories and hope that my old friend also remembers.
i don't really remember
...but my fingers are sore and my voice is too. interesting night last night. verging on surreal. eh, it happens.
the butter melts out of habit...
...the toast isn't even warm. AAARGH. everytime i make toast, it always cools down too much before i get a chance to eat it. this very thing happened this morning when i made toast and eggs. it's the little things in life that get you down.
listen to the rhythm...don't be scared
danced the night away last night. there are times in your life when you need to pour your heart out, throw caution to the wind and let loose...especially when life gets slightly heavier than you would prefer. so after some musical soul feeding listen to a friend play at a coffee shop, i made an appearance at what so far was the party of the year. in recent weeks the ryhthm of my life has been thrown off track. i feel like a machine that has suddenly sputtered and had to reset itself. i got so used to the way things work that i forgot the maintanance that goes along with it. it felt good to get into the rhythm of last night's music, but it made me wonder when i will get back into the rhythm of life. i have to sew the fragments together in a different pattern, learn a new song, take it in a new direction, and feel the rhythm. all in good time.
sweet sweet song
i am sitting in a coffee shop while different colored notes reach their fingers into the cold parts of my heart. if there is one thing that is sure to melt those spots, it is the sound of someone else's heart's cry. hearing this particular singer's unadulterated voice is the closest you can get to seeing her soul. ahh.
so much time, so little to say
i have officially embraced the inescapable truth that i am a consumeristic american. i have lavishly spent my money this month on things i do not really need, one of which is the computer i am currently typing on. i also bought a new climbing harness and a new REI jacket (because they were on sale...?) i have gone out several times this week and spent more than i intended on drinks, paid for people's meals on two separate occasions (because they did not have cash) and dropped $3-$5 here and there on coffee dates. I also decided to try to eat more organicly (i.e. spend more money on food). i feel restless and unsatisfied. the things i really care about seem to be on indefinite and possibly permanent hold, and yet i can't quite get my rear in gear. it could have something to do with the fact that i am not sure how to progress in my career. i like it just fine and am basically happy with it, but i get the feeling that there could be something more. but the amount of time i have wasted this week is indicative of deeper issues. i feel sad. things in my life are not entirely happy. i'm pretty good at functioning easily in the face of hardship, but it can be a slow drain. i also feel thin--thin and stretched like bilbo baggins in the lord of the rings as opposed to the slimfast variety. artisticly i feel like a wasteland; i have a nagging feeling that i should be writing more, processing faster, DOING something, but the part of me that loves beauty is dry and empty. it's a bit of a downer when you feel like you have been denied access to your emotional outlet. not to mention the remarkably uneventful interaction i had with kris yesterday...it just felt dead. it makes me sad to think about it. i was surprised at how very dull and non-dramatic the whole event was. i guess i am used to a little more fire and spice in my life's subplots. i'm missing the war.
on the first day of christmas, my true love gave to me
...apparently nothing. been a rough month, lots of change. i noticed how unsettled i was when i started spending extravagent amounts of money on things i really do not need. four candle holders, three brand new lamps, two articles of clothing and new ibook (in a pear tree). wow. didn't know i was a comfort shopper, did you? funny, me neither. last time i experienced a major life trauma i got a major hair style change. this time around, i happen to really love my dredlocks so that particular option flew out the window. so i have new ambitions and goals and plans...i'm curious to see how i execute them. tonight i am headed to see justin mcroberts at grove city. this will be the third time in a row that i have gone to see him play after a serious life change. funny how that works. by the way, i love having a computer. money well spent? i think so.
my sister just told me today that she was obsessed with my blog. sometimes i forget that my family reads it. not that it matters, but occasionally my mother will reference it. and it is just funny. my family kicks booTAY. especially my niece. i'll post a picture just so you can all bask in the glory that is bridget marie peck
