It doesn't seem like it could be Friday already.  Don't you know how a little vacation throws off your routine and mixes everything up in your mind?  Coming back home can be a combination of "oh, it's good to be home" and "wow, I can't believe vacation is over already and I'm back to the old grind".  I try not to think of regular life as a grind because it's the life we have and we better feel better about it than that or what are we really doing anyway?  But between you and me, it is great to be home but it sure is cool to be away from everything doing something new and exciting. 

We stayed in a funky little bed and breakfast that was right on the boardwalk.  It only had 10 rooms and during the day, if no one was staying in a room, they would leave the door open and you could go in and see if maybe you might like to stay in that room on your next visit.  They were all different, very charming and old fashioned with big old brass beds or poster beds and antique (looking) chests and armoires (yes, I know what that is).  They each had a little fireplace.  Our room had a huge canopy over the bed, like a lace parachute which was fun to sleep under. 

Unfortunately the traditional joys of sleeping right on the ocean are somewhat negated by what is between you and the ocean.  Let's see, there is the boardwalk where every Tom, Dick and Harry hangs out at all hours, often being quite loud and inebriated (yes, I know what that is).  The sound carries right into your room.  And then when things finally settle down, the maintenance crew arrives around 5 am with their gold lights flashing which makes you feel you are about to be arrested.  They chat amongst themselves under your window as they park their trucks in the metered parking lot which is also between you and the ocean. 

We had a corner room featuring a lovely view of the 24 hour donut shop from the non-ocean side.  The littlest Dutch boy slept on a roll away bed.  Well, he tried but his butt hung down to the floor so the next night he tried sleeping on it like a couch but said he felt he was in prison so in the middle of the night he threw all the blankets and pillows on the floor and tried sleeping there.  He was a good sport about it because he will do anything to get to the ocean and hear it and smell it and go in it.  He put on his wetsuit and rode the waves on his boogey board, a surf board and using his own body.  We could hardly get him out he loves it so much. 

I don't like to swim in the ocean but I took a really long walk early in the morning.  I saw at least 20 dolphins right off the shore, swimming and bobbing and splashing and playing.  And there were the big birds with the funny bills and the huge wings.  They would take off flying, slowly at first and then gaining speed, until they spotted what they wanted in the water and would fold their wings and dive straight down really fast.  Those fish probably didn't know what hit them.  I wondered if they got their fish every time or if sometimes the fish got away. 

Me and Nicky and Butterfly Bear sat on the deep windowsill and watched the comings and goings all day long.  The cool breeze was so refreshing but the humidity made my fur a little sticky.  Oh, well.  It has dried out now that I am home in the desert.  Actually I think it happened when we drove across the desert.  What a shock to go from 72 degrees to 107 degrees in such a short time.  I never get used to that.

So it's best when you are feeling a little out of synch to go to a movie.  That's what I did.  Only in the middle of the movie, a mouse crawled up right up on me in the dark.  I remained pretty calm though and moved over to another seat.  But it came up close to me again.  So we moved far away to another row.  We told the manager about it but he wasn't that surprised, saying the whole shopping mall was infested with mice for some reason.  Yes, he said, we are having a problem with that.  At least he gave us free passes to the next movie.  But he didn't actually instill us with confidence that they are handling the problem.  Who would have thought you would have to worry about mice in the theatre?

But then they have to call somewhere home, don't they?  Do you think they will be relocated?  Maybe to the boardwalk in Newport Beach, California.

GR

 

Gone to the beach.  Wish you were here.

 

GR

Daddy Long Legs



September 19th, 2008, a Friday

Today I have no coherent thoughts.  Just a complete hodge podge of things swirling around in my little bear head.  Does that ever happen to you? 

For example, I saw a daddy long legs up in the corner of the garage.  She had spun a beautiful web to live in, her home.  And she proudly stood on it, up on her spindly legs.  Maybe it was just me, but she seemed to be daring me to even think about getting the broom out and just sweeping that cobweb right out of the garage corner.  I guess if you live with that type of risk in your life, having your home destroyed by one sweep of the broom after you went to all the hard work of making it yourself, then you could get rather philosophical about the ever present danger.  I have to admit that after I looked her right in the eye (well, I'm not sure it was her "eye"), there was no way I was going to put the broom to her home.  She was too powerful and proud for that.  No, as far as I know, she is still hanging out in her web. 

I've also noticed that the flowers in the garden that have been looking so spent after such a long, hot summer are beginning to perk up.  They love the sun but not the intense desert summer heat and now they are feeling so much better, blooming and showing off.  That tricks me every year.  Just when it is time to say we should get those summer flowers out of those beds and plant the winter flowers, I can't go through with it because the summer flowers look so healthy and happy.  But then when it starts to get cold, you realize that they aren't going to make it through the winter and you should have just taken a deep breath and pulled them out of the ground at their autumn peak.  But I still have trouble doing that. 

I know of this guy who always, always looks happy and in a good mood.  His eyes twinkle and he smiles at you and it makes you feel good.  He's a fireman and an emergency medical technician.  I told the Dutchman how lucky this guy was to be one of the fortunate ones who was just born with a sunny outlook on life.  Well, I found out that he wasn't born that way at all.  He decided to be that way.  He grew up in a tough neighborhood and his dad was a hard working cop.  As a boy, he got into lots of trouble, always making it difficult for his dad.  One day his dad got real sick and even when he was feeling his worst, my friend was still misbehaving and acting out.  His dad didn't make it and my friend realized that he was living his life in the worst possible way and that he wanted to honor his father's hard work and commitment to his family with his own life.  He himself wanted to be his father's legacy.  So he straightened out his life, dedicated it to public service, and begin to see each day as a good day.  And as far as I can tell, he really means it.  There's a real lesson in there.  He chooses to be happy, of service, and grateful.  Now that's inspiring.

Today I am going to choose to let the daddy long legs live as long a life as nature intended, enjoy the resurgence of the summer flowers in September, and enjoy every moment of this Friday.  If you can do it once, maybe you can get used to it and do it again and again. 

Can you imagine what would happen to the world if we all just realized how much of life is a choice?

GR

We Could Use Some Help Down Here



September 17th, 2008, a Wednesday

I wonder if God knows what's going on down here?  I mean it is likely that he has lots of other worlds and planets and universes to oversee.  You didn't really think that the only thing God is responsible for is earth?  That would be pretty arrogant of us.  We should at least assume his world is bigger than that.  (I never know whether to capitalize the pronoun "his" as it relates to God.  Somehow it just seems to make the writer seem more religious, in the organized way.  And I'm not, so I won't for now.) 

If we think of God as a CEO, or even Chairman of the Board, depending on how big his empire is, it could be that he has delegated too much and has grown out of touch with the people in his kingdom.  I know, I know.  There is a difference between a company run by a CEO, an empire with an emperor, and a kindgom with a king.  But what difference does it really make?  He's God, for God's sake.  I'm just trying to make a point.  Bear with me.  (I always love saying that.)

God gave us the smarts to invent things.  It seems like as his confidence has grown, he has given us even more smarts to work with.  That is why we have the internet (thanks to Al Gore) and the Blackberry (we didn't know til yesterday that we have John McCain to thank for that).  But I'm wondering if he really envisioned, even in all his infinite wisdom, what can of worms the internet would open up.  I mean yesterday they said that on-line porn is down 10% because people are using "social sites" such as Facebook more.  So you're telling me that Facebook is replacing on-line porn?  And kids are socializing on-line instead of in person?  See, that's what I am talking about.  In God's world, that could be a small detail, and I'm wondering if he even knows. 

It is possible that God has seen fit to delegate some things.  I mean he's had this job for a long time from what I hear and every good leader has to retire or "work himself out of a job" at some point.  And what do we really know about these guys (girls?) that he delegates to?  What are their qualifications?  Were they vetted?  How much supervision and training are they getting from God?  If any?  Are they themselves "Gods in training"?  Does he have that much faith in them?  Do we?  (I mean look what happened when God delegated the Catholic Church to the priests and bishops?  That really came back to bite him.) 

Don't get me wrong.  I wouldn't dare to criticize how God runs things.  I like to believe he has a reason for everything.  But my understanding is that your performace is judged by results.  And frankly, God's ratings may be a little down right now.  Our presidential campaign has deteriorated into a pit of lies and deception which isn't bad enough but even after the lies are exposed, they don't care and just keep doing it.  This is a much bigger problem than the lying itself.  How many of God's rules are being broken right there?  One in four girls are sexually abused and one in seven boys.  Global disease and poverty are rampant.  War seems commonplace, not even something that horrifies us anymore.  You get the picture.  No need to keep listing all the stuff.  It would take too long.

I am thinking of this as an open letter from a client to the big boss asking, no pleading, for personal attention.  I know you're tired.  So are we all.  But with great gifts comes great responsibility.  And your gifts are unsurpassed in the history of.....well, everything.  So please think about us if you have time and see what you can do to help us get back on the right track.  Think retro.  The 50's.  Heck, even the 60's seem tame at this point.  Well, hey God, you know what to do. 

Hopefully yours,

GR

silver convertibles with wedding decorations


September 15th, 2008, a Monday

If you stopped to think about it, you probably couldn't believe how many decisions we make each day.  Granted some of them are pretty small, but you make them, consciously or otherwise.  For example:

Should I get up right now or continue to lay here in the comfort of my bed for another minute, two minutes, thirty seconds, one minute and four seconds? Do I have time for breakfast? What should I eat? When should I stop pouring the milk on my cereal? What will I wear? How long will I stay in the shower?  Exactly how hot should the water temperature be? Should I talk to my dog or just pet him?  Will I call my mother today?  Where will I go for lunch and what will I have?  Should I work out?  Should I lift weights and which ones and how many reps?  What about the treadmill?  Or maybe the eliptical?  What should I wear to the work out?  Should I do laundry tonight?  Go out with the gang for happy hour?  Drive home if I have too many?  What will I watch on tv?  Should I bet on the game?  When will I go to bed?  Should I open the windows?  Will I need an extra blanket?  Set the alarm?
Should I get up when I can't sleep and have something to eat?  Should I read or watch tv?  Surf the internet?  Or just close my eyes and hope for the best.  And while they are closed, what should I think about?  Or nothing at all?  Take a Tylenol PM?

There's probably only one in that list of seemingly small decisions that could actually turn into one of the big life decisions.  Drive home if I have too many?  First you have to choose, decide, how many drinks to have.  Then whether you are going to get in a car.  If you choose to drive drunk, you could get caught, or get hurt, or hurt someone.  In any case, you would probably go to prison where most decisions would be made for you.  So is part of the definition of freedom that you get to make your own decisions every day?

Do a lot of little decisions make up our big decisions?  Or are there much fewer really big ones that are made outside of the thousands of little ones we make every day?  Are they related?

If you call off your wedding at the last minute, that is a life changer.  Suddenly every decision that was going to be made for two, goes back to being for just one.  So in that case, a big decision then heavily influences our future little decisions.  Maybe it was all those arrangements, and seeing what your future spouse is really like under pressure that made you change your mind.  Maybe it was the future in-laws.  In that case, the little decisions would influence the big. 

Oh, my gosh.  The more you analyze this stuff, the worse it gets.  You know how when you look at a word for a long time it just starts to look like the weirdest collection of letters you've ever seen?  And you think you don't really know what it means or where it came from?  Maybe it is like that with decisions.  If you think about them too much, they get too heavy.  Maybe we should rely more on our heart, our intuition.  If you think you can't hear, you probably aren't listening.  So often we don't realize that after we have acted on logic and reasoning, our hearts and intuition are still not settled.  That makes for conflict and affects more decisions than you can even imagine.

So if you are going to buy a car, and you do the research to find the best buy with the best gas mileage, and you think you should get a conservative color like black, white or silver, but you really want red.....you can have it both ways.  A practical decision with an intuitive flair.  If only all decision making were that...black and white.

If nothing else, maybe today you could try to become aware of all the decisions you are making.  Every little one.  Unless it happens to be your wedding day, which is unlikely because rarely do people "decide" to marry on a Monday unless it is a totally spur of the moment decision.  See what I mean?  The good news is that a lot of decisions have an out clause.  If you marry wrong, you can divorce.  If you hate your new job, you can find another.  If you don't like the show you are watching, you can change the channel.  But be careful.  A lifetime is measured by the quality of all the decisions we make combined.  You know, one thing leads to another.... 

GR

 

Catfight

It will be fascinating to compare the two movies.  I haven't seen either of them.  But I am willing to bet that Joan Crawford and Norma Shearer may have a more effective dressing room confrontation than Meg Ryan and Eva Mendes.  Just a gut instinct.  But when a woman messes around with another woman's husband, sparks are gonna fly.  As for me, I would never, ever confront the other woman.  I would go straight for the man.  Surely we are not going to buy into that ridiculous notion that any woman can just steal our boyfriend or husband and so it's the woman's fault.  I'm thinking it's him we should rely on to not be stolen.  If he can be stolen, find yourself another guy.  One who is theft-proof.

So, I'm thinking to myself, where does this female instinct to fight with each other come from?  Are we born with it or do we learn it by example from all the other women?  Our moms, sisters, girlfriends? 

The other morning, I was in the local healthy food restaurant for breakfast.  It was a busy weekend morning and it seemed there were a lot of Democrats there.  You know, the arugula crowd.  A little family arrives, mom and dad and little girl, maybe 4 years old.  She is a little pudgy with tight curly hair pulled back from her face and wearing a sundress.  She is cheerful and obviously excited to be there.  Her dad looks a little bummed, like he wishes he was somewhere else.  But mom seems right in her element and looks even a little powerful in a quiet sort of way.  I think it's because she got her husband to come with her.  They take a table next to another empty one and begin to pull them together, like they are expecting maybe another family.  The little girl spots them coming in the door and is so excited she can hardly stand it.  She yells out  "Soooppphhhiaaa" repeatedly with a delighted giggle and runs to a smaller girl, maybe a little younger, who has arrived with her mother and a new baby in a stroller.  The moms could be sisters.  Unfortunately, Sophia does not share her little cousin's enthusiasm and is in a bad mood, the female variety.  She has a beauty shop haircut, silky and smooth, with a small ribbon placed just so.  She is dressed with a little more thought, a little more put together than little cousin.  She is holding a plastic colored cup with a tight lid and a drinking spout.  She is clutching it actually, like a prop, and her head is carefully positioned downwards, looking towards the floor at just the right tilt, with a pout as big as day.  It is like she is in character.  The "I have to make sure I am prettier, more in control and superior to my cousin at all times" character.  And she plays it to perfection.  When some little thing rubs her the wrong way, she cries, but only briefly for effect.  Once she begins to feel confident that her entrance has been effective, she begins to relax and enjoy herself a little more.  Poor little cousin is so hurt that Sophia has snubbed her that she begins to cry.  Her parents don't much like that and lose patience with her pretty quickly.  Sophia's parents on the other hand are used to her mood changes and accept them. 

It is amazing to me that something less than four year olds already know how to play the game.  Sophia's future high school persona was already on display.  Cheerleader, tease, mean girlfriend.  And little cousin will be victimized for her bright disposition and less than perfect looks.  I say check back when they are both in their thirties.  I am willing to bet that little cousin has surged ahead of Sophia in the game of life. 

Why can't we all just get along?

GR

My Role Model



September 10th, 2008, a Wednesday

I am always trying to grow and change and evolve into a better bear, a better citizen, and a better friend.  Lately I believe meditation and quiet reflection will assist me in this process.  So I really make an effort to discipline myself.  I have time on my hands, so I can't use that as an excuse.  I have a beautiful place to practice my new ritual so that should make it easier.  And I am motivated to experience the nirvana, the higher plane, afforded only to those who make the commitment and sacrifice required.  I am psyched. 

The first thing is to try and be mindful of everyday activities.  So while I am watching a ball game or one of my favorite shows, I really try to be present for every pitch, every plot line, every nuanced character development.  Yeah, I think I am getting the hang of it.  The Diamondbacks are still losing like crazy but I just float above the bitter disappointment and try not to yell at the team (like the Dutchman does) when not a single one of them does their job of pitching, hitting, or fielding.  I try to avoid comments such as "they suck" but it's hard.  I think I am making progress.

The next thing is to learn to be quiet.  That is taking a little more work as it doesn't come that naturally to me.  So I do as instructed and sit in my meditative pose.  For most, it is legs crossed, hands resting on knees.  But I can't do that because frankly I don't have knees.  I am most comfortable doing the splits, so I rest there.  I guess you are just supposed to plan to do nothing, think about nothing, clear out your mind of all thoughts and distractions.  I try it but almost die of boredom within a matter of seconds.  I mean I have a very active little mind and I take a lot of pride in that.  Why I am supposed to shut that down is a mystery to me.  But I try.  Nothing much happens.  I know when thoughts try to invade my space, I am supposed to shoo them away.  But I find that I am practically inviting them in for a visit.  I think I suck at this.

So I close my eyes and try making the chanting sound.  They say I can pick whichever sound I like although most people stick with the "oooohhhhmmmm" one that is most common.  Not me.  I pick "yeeeaaaahhhhh".  My thinking is that is the sound I make when I am so spontaneously delighted that I cannot contain my joy and I squeal "yay".  Notice I try to elongate the sound for chanting so it isn't just me going "yay" over and over again.  So now I am chanting and breathing and trying to think of nothing. 

But all I can think of is how much I want to think about everything.  Everything that I enjoy thinking about so much every day.  All the things that excite me and make me feel hopeful and happy.  Here's the way I look at it.  What if every one of us figured out this meditation thing and all sat down in the position making some kind of noise and successfully cleared our minds of all conscious thought.  What good would that do really?  Besides make a lot of noise.

For now, I am going to try it at bedtime.  But it's hard when I just love to fall asleep looking at the lake and the moon and the stars and the trees.  They lull me to sleep and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

So until I become more evolved, I think I will stick to being myself and thinking about everything that comes into my mind.  Maybe I can teach my left brain to be quiet and let the creative powers of my right brain take over when I am older and more mature.  I wonder if that means I can yell at the Diamondbacks tonight?

GR

           





September 8th, 2008, a Monday

I am convinced that Mondays will always feel like Mondays, no matter what.  It doesn't matter if you work weekends and Monday is your day off, or if you don't work at all, or you love your work, there is just something about Monday morning that screams "Monday".  It is useless to try to describe it.  Everybody knows.  It's just Monday.   So I wonder if that means I am at a disadvantage with my Monday morning entry because it's Monday and that's a lot to overcome.  Or if I, Gina Rose, can be the beacon of light and hope and comfort on Monday morning.  Maybe even the only one who can. 

EQ, not IQ.  A way to measure your emotional intelligence is making the rounds.  It is some kind of simple test that can be taken in just moments.  Well, obviously, that is the first problem.  Emotions are far too complex and, well, emotional to be measured in a quick test.  My personal opinion is that it would be easier to measure regular intelligence than emotional intelligence but that's just me.  Let's go ahead and play the game and see where it leads us.

I'm sure it won't surprise you to know that the inventors of this (silly) test claim that women score an average of 12 points higher on the part about relationship management.  They explain this by saying that women are socialized to nurture so they learn to give their best to others, as in relationships.  (They didn't go so far as to say that men are socialized to be taken care of but it's kinda where your mind goes.)  Interestingly enough, men and women score the same on self-awareness, another (silly) category.  They therefore conclude that men understand feelings but are not expected to do anything with them.  Awesome.  Love this test. 

CEO's have the lowest score on the EQ test than any other group.  They explain this fascinating fact by saying that CEO's tend to be dry financial types who would obviously not be in touch with their feelings.  But they are quick to add that the really dynamic, successful CEO's do score well, they are just not the norm for the group. 

They say that demand is increasing for improvement on EQ test scores.  I assume they mean for men since they are the ones who seem to be somewhat deficient in their scores.  My guess is that men will work on this now, or at least learn how to test better for its own sake.  That will enhance their careers (opportunity to be one of the good CEO's) and trick women into believing they are actually in touch with their feelings and willing to talk about them.  "Hey, honey.  Let's take this EQ test to see if we are emotionally compatible?"  "See, honey.  I passed the test.  I am so sensitive."  "Oh, that.  Yeah, we took that before we got married.  Who cares anymore?  I am who I am."

The EQ guys recommend something they call "leaning into discomfort".  You know, if it feels bad, do it, because that means it must be good for you.  His example is forcing himself to go out with his wife socially even though he would rather stay home because that makes him a better husband.  I hope he's eating his broccoli, too.  It tastes bad but it's really good for you.

So you think I'm being cynical?  You think that an EQ test can really be a good tool to get men to feel more comfortable with their emotions?  Well, let's see.  You got a test to make me feel less comfortable with mine? 

GR

Duck Family making swirls



September 5th, 2008, a Friday

Women's Liberation is just a lot of foolishness.  It's the men who are discriminated against.  They can't bear children.  And no one's likely to do anything about that.  ~Golda Meir



September 4th, 2008, a Thursday

I owe you all an apology for not posting a blog on my usual day yesterday after having a holiday on Monday.  I am ashamed of myself for that because I take my jabwab responsibilities very seriously.   You see, I feel as if I have lost my voice.  It's not that I can't talk or anything.  It's that I have lost the empowerment that allows me to speak.  Since it is not rushing back to me, I will have to coax it back, word by word, thought by thought.  It can be painful to dig inside and see what causes a problem like this.  Because you don't ever know what you are going to find in there.  But I'll try.  (As for you, be brave.  It's just one blog.) 

It's a hard time to be a girl.  Just when most may say the opposite.  My female depression was triggered by the Republican nominee's pick for vice presidential running mate.  (I can't bear to say their names.)  I try my best to honor my policy not to use my blog to air my political views.  And I don't mean this discussion to be that.  The press goes straight to the obvious and most shallow version of sexism and discrimination and different treatment for women than men.  You know the line.  You are not allowed to question if she is spending enough time with her Down's Syndrome afflicted infant.  Because you would never ask a question like that to a man.  The Democratic VP candidate was quoted as saying one difference between him and her was that she was better looking.  So what?  Didn't they say that about John Edwards' expensive haircut and Mitt Romney's Ken doll appearance all the time?  And they shouldn't talk so much about her family.  Well, when she first got introduced, she talked about her family non-stop for the first ten minutes or so.  (Well, seriously, what else is she going to talk about?) She gets to but no one else is allowed to?  This idea that the Republicans are seeking credit for boldly putting a woman on the ticket but she must be treated with a double political standard because she is a woman is quite ridiculous.  And completely insulting. 

But not nearly as insulting as the selection itself.  Millions of people in this country are passionate about their politics and their candidates and the process itself.  Like me.  To pluck a woman out of a somewhat isolated state with its own unique culture and thrust her into the national limelight, possibly a "heartbeat" away from the Presidency, is the ultimate political gimmick.  It makes a mockery of the process and stoops to the lowest possible standard of decision making.  Sometimes I think I am actually asleep and must be dreaming when I hear talk of her joining the PTA and being a hockey mom.  I am struggling to find out what is so appealing about being a maverick presidential candidate if a maverick does something like this.  It's serious business as she said last night.  You know, a dangerous world and all.  So some good writers (not as good as Aaron Sorkin who writes political drama better than the real thing), took her calculated image and wrote her a speech and she read it.  It was a performance not unlike something you would see on the stage.  A real theatre stage.  She said the words, presented them with a certain nuance, and who cares if just twenty-four hours before, she didn't know a single thing about most of that stuff.  It's a script, not real life.  Remember, she wanted to be an ESPN sports commentator before she wanted to be a governor.  Sounds like the limelight is what she wants.  Well, now she's got it and all that comes with it.  Please, God, just don't let it be a light that shines a path to high office. 

All of this hoopla has made me feel that the hard work and sacrifice and commitment to achieving as a woman doesn't really count for anything if it can be sidestepped and just anyone can be thrown into a situation that is completely unearned.  The unfairness and inappropriateness of it is staggering.  It makes me want to lay down my blog tools and just give up.  Stop thinking creatively and caring so much and speaking out for real equality.  This poor woman doesn't seem to know that she is being used anyway.  By an ambitious old white man.  She and her family.  Or maybe she just doesn't care.  But she is obviously more than willing to do whatever it takes.  See limelight comments above.

And besides, as a girl, I am not the least bit offended when the differences between men and women are acknowledged.  Do I think this lady should spend more time with her infant son, the one she recently referred to as the "newborn", because she is the mom?  Yes.  Especially if she is going to make such a big deal of the fact that she is against abortion and went ahead and had the baby even when she found out he had Down's Syndrome.  She talked last night about families with special needs children.  I would be willing to bet that most of those moms devote their lives to those children and their needs and probably don't have hours and hours off every day to learn a speech, pick out an acceptance outfit, get your hair done, and get out on the campaign trail to fit the mold of whatever is deemed to be worth the most votes on that particular day in front of that particular audience.  Easy for her to say.  And for her to say that abortion should be outlawed in cases of rape and incest is easily the most arrogant and redneck thing a woman could say.  To be told as a matter of law that you have no choice but to carry the issue of that type of sexual violence for nine months could result in unthinkable emotional trauma in addition to the trauma already experienced. 

In addition to all these things that have me feeling so down, I found out that my real spiritual birthday is February 29th.  I have always wanted to remember exactly the day that I was delivered to my family and became the bear I am now.  And when I finally do, it's the leap birthday and it doesn't even come every year.  Knowing my family, they will make sure I can still have a party and get presents even when that date doesn't fall in the calendar, but still.  That sucks kinda.  Or does it make me special?  No, not today.  I don't feel like being hopeful and optimistic.

I already knew that soul searching and cleaning out bad feelings is not that popular.  Socially I mean.  I will bet that most of you are saying to yourself right now that you would rather read my light hearted and sometimes funny, charming, clever entries than this dark excursion into things like....you know, you just read them.   Well, folks, that is how you get back to being funny and charming.  Figure out why you aren't feeling that way.  Just one more thing.  Don't you hold us girls to the same standards already established long ago for men.  No, we can do a lot better than that!

Love,
GR