tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84035492024-03-07T00:12:32.206-08:00Chicago StoriesMisbehave. Make something beautiful. Try to win.Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.comBlogger1636125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-25362475288294452092017-03-23T13:45:00.002-07:002017-03-23T13:45:58.144-07:00The Stories We Tell Ourselves<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have always told myself that I am not a nurturer, (I'm not, I'm really not) this is why I don't have children see. Not a nurturer.<br />
<br />And one way this has always come out is that I "can't keep anything alive." I have no green thumb. Me and plants? Psssh. Hixx can't handle plants. Something. I don't know what it is.<br />
<br />So about a year and a half ago, our upstairs neighbor passed. Her name was Pam. She was young and lovely and she lived upstairs with her husband and she got breast cancer and she died. She died in October and there were plants and flowers around our place and on the stairs and stuff for awhile.<br />
<br />
One plant was just out there in October and November, just...surviving. So we brought it into the house and we've been just kind of loving it this winter. We put it into my office, I have a great window.<br />
<br />I've been taking care of her - talking to her and feeding her and FUCKING LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
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Can't grow anything?</div>
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<br />AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA</div>
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<br />Yes I can. </div>
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<br />Suckers. </div>
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<br />Thank you Pam. ♥</div>
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Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-11334926758651767202017-03-03T13:09:00.000-08:002017-03-03T13:09:01.076-08:00My Weird and Wonderful Tattoo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have four tattoos.<br />
<br />
They're all kind of little. I have a toe tattoo, my zodiac symbol (Leo) hidden quietly away on my hip and the Thai word for "Laugh" on the back of my neck. And yes, it really does say Laugh and not "stupid white girl." I checked.<br />
<br />
And last year, on my mom's death day, I got a tattoo I had been thinking about for awhile. I got my Buddha hand tattoo.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3YWvYDc_VniGP7GTCdBO5gC1JPkJh8m17r__5wvJD3tM5iNDvWsFUuTuDuTCEzhUefMnC8LDsrh0vhZyaX0xnbz_LgaXY47Pf0kHrW-wmVCKXSYonV-tKZo5Vo-toG9Q1yoG/s1600/IMG_8254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3YWvYDc_VniGP7GTCdBO5gC1JPkJh8m17r__5wvJD3tM5iNDvWsFUuTuDuTCEzhUefMnC8LDsrh0vhZyaX0xnbz_LgaXY47Pf0kHrW-wmVCKXSYonV-tKZo5Vo-toG9Q1yoG/s320/IMG_8254.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />And I loved it the second I got it.<br />
<br />
And then I didn't.<br />
<br />
In fact, I didn't love it at all. I got a hand tattoo'd on my arm. Why did I do that? I also, for some reason, got it on an angle. Why did I do that? And, finally, it's basically a religious symbol for a religion I really know very little about. Why did I do THAT?<br />
<br />
I actively even tried to cover it up last summer and was relieved when winter came because I didn't have to worry about it.<br />
<br />
And then 45. Then President 45.<br />
<br />
And suddenly my tattoo that is awkward and strange became so much more meaningful to me.<br />
<br />
When I was getting it, the tattoo guy kept straightening it out while were figuring out where to put it, I kept turning it on this angle. He finally left it that way. The reason why it's on an angle I finally discovered for myself? It's so I can see it better. It was always so I could see it better.<br />
<br />
And the reason why it's this hand and not the Buddha's face? First of all, don't put the Buddha's face on your skin, don't put it on anything really, not right.<br />
<br />
And my mom had this hand in her house as I was growing up.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrqxSVz9UKfLJVM5VfzCPzH9soPFTjQBdi5-h8-UM5NQg8ahzG6xiIdcKfCuDG-CJJqhonz5CcnNj24lvRWSDNwqN2LMLq5xXlT8BEbt2p2xHY5KYU2E1dm5VB9R5Ts8mll3h/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-03-03+at+3.00.56+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrqxSVz9UKfLJVM5VfzCPzH9soPFTjQBdi5-h8-UM5NQg8ahzG6xiIdcKfCuDG-CJJqhonz5CcnNj24lvRWSDNwqN2LMLq5xXlT8BEbt2p2xHY5KYU2E1dm5VB9R5Ts8mll3h/s320/Screen+Shot+2017-03-03+at+3.00.56+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I never knew what it was until I was grown. But I had always been fascinated by it as a kid. Then once I started listening to my Buddhist podcasts and started meditating, the hand became more beautiful to me. I always connected it then to my childhood and my mom too.<br />
<br />
Then we traveled to Buddhist countries, this is what I would pick out for people to bring home for presents. The Buddha's hand.<br />
<br />
So sure, it's a religious symbol, but it's also a symbol of my mom. And of our travels.<br />
<br />
And now, more than ever.<br />
<br />
45.<br />
<br />
#45.<br />
<br />
And suddenly my tattoo that was awkward and skewed and religious and strange, is what it was supposed to be from the beginning.<br /><br />It is a symbol of peace.<br />
It is a symbol of love.<br />
It is a symbol of family.<br />
It is a way to show you which side I fall on.<br />
It is a way to show you I'll protect you when I can.<br />
It is proof to me about what matters to me. What my priorities are.<br />
<br />
Plus, I think the tattoo artist did a really beautiful job with it.<br /><br />It's gorgeous.<br />
<br />
And I'm not ashamed of it anymore.<br />
<br />
I can't wait for summer.<br />
<br />
Let's show everyone my crooked, beautiful, dogmatic symbol of peace.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-67691066312476162692017-02-22T15:37:00.001-08:002017-02-22T15:37:33.682-08:00The Shift<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been just 7-8 years since my last shift. You know, since something really happened.<br />
<br />7-8 years ago I lost my secretary job and started Chicago Elevated. But what really happened, was I learned how to be awesome. I learned initially from <span style="color: red;"><a href="https://chrisguillebeau.com/" target="_blank">Chris Guillebeau</a> </span>(pronounced like Bilbo and when I met him in person I told him we called him Guillebeau Baggins and he looked at me funny, it's okay, people look at me funny sometimes) but then I learned how to be awesome on my own.<br />
<br />
Starting Chicago Elevated was a big thing, I'm so thankful. Every day.<br />
<br />
But it's been pretty standard since. Same apartment, same job, same same. Good, but same. There have been some great trips: Morocco, India, China, Vietnam, Spain....but same.<br />
<br />And then Remo dies and sameness ends.<br />
<br />
And even before that, things were falling into different places - in a good way I mean. But Remo dying accelerated what may have been an already coming life shift.<br />
<br />
Things are changing in my heart and brain. There's a synergy happening, something that's connecting my natural movement/health/fitness stuff to my financial stuff to my meditation spiritual stuff - it's all coming together that they're all kind of the same stuff and that it all goes together and personal mission statements and things are changing.<br />
<br />
We'll be moving in the summer, not away from Chicago but downsizing for more travel in our future. We're talking about spending more time away, we're talking about living a different kind of life and that is all great with the synergy I talked about above.<br />
<br />I'm crying a lot - good crying (I had to describe this to a male friend, DO YOU ALL NOT CRY? Poor things), great hearty cries of frustration sometimes and more and more gladness and thankfulness that I'm the way I am. More and more I'm seeing what matters to me more clearly and it makes me cry. I just cry now, it's awesome.<br />
<br />
But I'm also making sure at this really sensitive time in my life, what I feel is like, one of those important times in your life that comes every 7 or 8 years or so - I'm really trying to make sure I put good things in my head. Good podcasts. Good books. Good music. Less Tr*mp, less twitter, less FB, more finance podcasts, more business and Buddha podcasts. More books about Chicago and more walks outside.<br />
<br />
More sleep. Less sugar.<br />
<br />I'm not achieving this all the time of course, but I'm trying hard, knowing that something important is brewing in my life here, that it's important to feed it good food somehow.<br />
<br />
Write more. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-36304791459389781972017-01-20T07:54:00.001-08:002017-01-20T07:54:09.413-08:00You Never Have To Do That Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You never have to do that again is the wisdom and beauty of getting older.<br />
<br />
And I think about mom and my dog and my stepfather and...<br />
<br />I'm so glad I never have to do that again.<br />
<br />
I never have to do that again. I never have to take care of my sick mother, or watch my father retreat into nothingness. I never have to cry or weep at the pain my mom is in or the shittiness of where she is. I'll never have to take two trains and a bus to get to her. Granted, I'll never hear her voice or feel her hug - but I never have to witness the death of my mother again.<br />
<br />Or my dog.<br />
<br />I'll never have to worry about putting Remo to sleep or how I'm going to handle that. I'll never have to worry if he's okay or in pain. I'll never have to call a vet at 9:30 at night to put him to sleep. I'll never have to go through those first few really hard weeks of grief. I'll never have to come home that first night without him.<br />
<br />I'll never have to start Chicago Elevated again, or go through Polar Vortex winter (darn, because this lame winter sucks, seriously, no snow?? NONE???). I'll never have to witness an inauguration like this again and I'll never have to have my jaw broken when I'm sixteen again.<br />
<br />
I'LL NEVER HAVE TO QUIT SMOKING AGAIN (praise Jeebus) this one is HUGE. I never have to do it again.<br />
<br />I know getting older is about losing things. I know this, people, friends, buildings, parents, dogs...essentially everything. That is the lesson of growing older truly, is that you will lose everything.<br />
<br />
But only the one time.<br />
<br />And in that, I find great solace. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-1830895033692220872016-12-17T04:38:00.001-08:002016-12-17T04:38:09.140-08:00On The Death of My Pup<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
First, let's just give all the fucking gratitude in the world for my meditation practice.<br />
<br />Seriously, thank god.<br />
<br />I couldn't do it yesterday, the first morning after Remo died, because I honestly didn't feel like I could leave John even for 20 quiet minutes. Not because he was broken, just because I knew waking up the first morning without that furry face was going to be the hardest.<br />
<br />But this morning, I came into my quiet office, 5:45AM. I had turned on all the heat and my extra little heater, it was still dark and I sat down. 20 minutes of quiet and warm, 20 minutes to drop it from my tense body and tense mind. There's just something about it, in the winter, in the warm, after my pup.<br />
<br />
Anyway.<br />
<br />
We've been waiting for Remo to die for 15 months.<br />
<br />
He was supposed to be long gone, cancer, a cancer that is a killer, for most dogs when they're diagnosed, it's 18 days. Remo lived about 400 days longer than he was supposed to.<br />
<br />
So, there's a lot of gratitude there. And those 400 days were him at full tilt, he was healthy and happy.<br />
<br />
But the truth is, we put off a lot, we changed life plans. We settled into our apartment to take care of our pup for what we thought was weeks. Now there's a release there, a freedom that's hard to wrap my mind around. I can leave the house for the whole day, we could just take off and go somewhere, we're not tied to Chicago, to the apartment....<br />
<br />
When something/somebody dies naturally, when they're supposed to, there's something easier about it isn't there?<br />
<br />Some relief.<br />
<br />And absolute and total loneliness.<br />
<br />
I was expecting it. I knew it would come and I fear the worst of the dog loneliness is not past, but there's a fucking hole in this house, just exactly the shape of our 65 pound dog.<br />
<br />
When you don't have kids, the dog becomes not your kid of course, but an equal for sure. Remo was as much a part of us as us is.<br />
<br />
I lost my wedding ring last summer, lost it at the beach and John's wedding ring is falling off his fingers.<br /><br />We have a jewelry maker friend who said he could incorporate some of Remo's ashes into new wedding rings for us.<br />
<br />That's usually kind of a gross thought to me, but here, in this case, I love it.<br />
<br />
His death is a harbinger of change.<br />
<br />We haven't had a harbinger in a long while. As much as I'm going to miss my best friend, my greatest source of comfort and joy, there is something beautiful in harbinging.<br />
<br />
Oh, I miss his little face. And the space between his eyes where I kiss him.<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-29529309921718203722016-12-11T13:54:00.002-08:002016-12-11T13:54:57.818-08:00It's snowy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My dog is dying slowly and in fits and starts.<br /><br />And I've been working lately on being "receptive."<br />
<br />Ew. I don't want to be receptive.<br />
<br />
I'd like to be closed off, alone, quiet, far away and not receiving anything thank you very much, just in case I need to return it back later when I'm not ready.<br />
<br />I've been working on a paradigm shift with money. I'm tired of it the way it is. And if Margaret wants to change something the way she does that is to educate herself about it. So I hive-minded on FB and got tons of suggestions of things to read and listen to and it's great, I already feel better, just moving forward with A plan is better than no plan at all.<br />
<br />But from the ritziest to the ditziest of all the things I've been reading - one sure fire thing is receptivity. You just have to believe that you deserve and can receive "abundance."<br />
<br />
That you have to love and respect your money like you love and respect your own self. The more you shun it, turn away from it, ignore it, the worse it's all going to get.<br />
<br />And I know this to be true on some level because I've been working with this anyway, with my emotions and feelings, that you have to tune into this stuff.<br />
<br />And to think about honestly loving my money, that is really weird. That is one fucked up concept.<br />
<br />
So I've been listening to Receptive meditations and stuff and it's really interesting how hard it is to open up to that. To be worthy. To stop telling the stories of how much "I hate being broke all the time" and "why is it all so hard" and FUCK IT. Christ. Fuck it. My conditioning is so strong and so silly when I can find a way to see through it.<br />
<br />
Not that any of it matters because our dual wars with China and Russia are going to fuck everything up anyway.<br />
<br />
SEE? RECEPTIVE!</div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-63741608586551678742016-11-30T10:57:00.001-08:002016-11-30T10:57:18.732-08:00My Yoga Teacher<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm still Switchin' To Glide everyone. Just in case you were wondering. Even with Tdjkals;dfjkl;mp.<br />
<br />Gross.<br />
<br />
Okay.<br />
<br />
So.<br />
<br />This morning I told my yoga teacher how much I like her class. I just take dumb yoga at the LA Fitness. I know what kind of yoga classes I'm getting and really, I think most of the teachers have been great (there was the one who said he "doesn't believe in the mind-body connection," what? It's YOGA) but I know it's not like, serious yoga.<br />
<br />
Anyway, we have this new teacher and she replaced a teacher I really liked and was bummed about her leaving, but our NEW teacher is FUN!<br />
<br />She's fucking fun and hilarious and she makes us all laugh and it's so nice.<br />
<br />It's so nice.<br />
<br />
Humor man. So powerful.<br />
<br />
Anyway, this morning, after probably 5 or 6 mornings of wanting to say something and not saying something, I finally said something.<br />
<br />And her face lit up and she was so happy.<br />
<br />I have to act on the kindnesses I imagine. It's Trfjkasda;jfdksl;fjmps America now.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-69374603314797336622016-11-07T06:07:00.000-08:002016-11-07T06:11:23.508-08:00Switchin' to Glide<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I found this song again, heard it in somewhere, downloaded it, been listenin' to it again.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sxkjvKBPQjo" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
Shit. I've been working so hard this summer, not just on tours, but me and the Whole30 and my life and I'm really tired of being anxious and no fun and all work and only some play that really isn't that fun.<br />
<br />
I couldn't tell you the last time I had a laugh out loud, roaring good time.<br />
<br />
I fear that's what comes from not drinking, but alas, the last thing I want to do is drink. So.<br />
<br />
But in general, where has all this anxiety and fear gotten me?<br />
<br />
I'm safe, I'm warm, I have enough $$ right at the moment for it to be okay, so it has gotten me that, but I'm pretty sure I would have all those things and be a little lighter in my heart.<br />
<br />
I'm hard on myself, we all are. I can be hard on my husband and I don't like that at all.<br />
<br />
Why am I so hard on the both of us and why and how and how is it helping me?<br />
<br />
I'm going to work on finding a little more joy, being a little more receptive, giving my brain and body a break.<br />
<br />
I'm switching to glide. It's easier that way.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-18817258933538600172016-09-20T12:44:00.002-07:002016-09-20T12:44:58.476-07:00It's Tomorrow!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Tomorrow I start it, the Whole30. I have a funny feeling this is a bit like Crossfit or Veganism or something...I WANT to talk about it! I'm reading forums! I scour blogs.<br />
<br />
I'm scared and really excited.<br />
<br />
I've cooked more in the past week than I have in my entire life. I'm taken more interest in my food this week (real interest, I mean, I'm always thinking about food) then in my whole life. Keep in mind most of my cooking has been done in the crockpot, but that's chill. I'm cool with it. I have food I made waiting for me in the freezer, this is huge.<br />
<br />The Whole30 is very strict. I'm keeping to the plan, I am, there's no cheating and I am NOT cheating, but, I am planning on doing what I need to do for me. There are going to be a lot of easy meals, I'm going to eat some almond butter (allowed but discouraged) if I'm freaking out and might cheat. I'm not going to buy THE MOST expensive piece of meat. I'm not going to be bogged down by fancy meals. I'm a simple eater, so this is great for me.<br />
<br />
And I'm not kidding when I say I've had bread with pretty much with every meal since I was old enough to eat bread. This is TERRIFYING.<br />
<br />But terrifying is fun these days, especially when I know it's something good for me.<br />
<br />
Terrifying is evolution.<br />
<br />
John is not doing the Whole30, but he's a friendly ally. He's not going to bring deliciousness into this house without me, he's going to help me make something awesome when I'm too tired and freaking out because this is the first time IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I'm not eating sugar as fuel. He's also looking forward to that kind of thing being out of the house.<br />
<br />
So. Here we go. I feel like it's a trip or something! I'll keep writing here about it and other things I think.<br />
<br />
Besides quitting smoking, this may be the most important thing I do for myself, ever.<br />
<br />See you on the other side baby!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-27232419794169421012016-09-14T10:04:00.002-07:002016-09-14T10:04:21.952-07:00A Whole Month of Whole 30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm doing it. I'm totally doing it.<br />
<span style="background-color: #e06666;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://whole30.com/" target="_blank">I'm doing the Whole 30.</a> </span><br />
<br />Starting next Weds, September 21st, I'm going to do it!<br />
<br />
I'm really scared and excited.<br />
<br />
I've never really done anything like this before. So. I quit smoking 85 times and the one final time, so I understand a little bit about this kinds of things.<br />
<br />
The truth is, I eat bread pretty much 3 meals a day. And I like chocolate. A lot. And sweets. A lot. And chips. And fries. And cheese. I've never eaten another way, my family ate this way, I've always eaten this way.<br />
<br />And I've been eating this way pretty much my whole life. And I don't really cook.<br />
<br />
I promised myself that when I started getting "older," I would take care of myself. I've always made that promise to myself, that is why I quit smoking. I promised myself I would. I've always wanted, JUST ONCE, to eat like I'm supposed to, so I can see how it feels. I want to know.<br />
<br />And now I feel trapped. I feel trapped by my eating habits. I feel compulsive and out of control. I feel like I'm doing damage to myself and that is what I'm trying so hard to get away from. With my natural movement kick and my meditation - all of these kind things I'm doing for myself and then BAM, I fuck it up with 500, sometimes 600 calories of sugar and stuff a night! A NIGHT!<br />
<br />
So, I'm doing this because I feel stuck. I'm doing this because I don't sleep well. I'm doing this because I want to learn how to take care of myself (I really don't and have never cooked), I'm doing this because I like to reinvent and relearn and learn and improve.<br />
<br />I'm NOT doing this to lose weight. Fuck that.<br />
<br />
John said, why do this whole thing though? Why not just stop eating that stuff?<br />
<br />HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA<br />
<br />
Oh man.<br />
<br />I have to. I have to make it "a deal." I have to go down the rabbit hole of Whole 30 forum boards about what is acceptable and what isn't. It has to be an event, or I would never do it.<br />
<br />
So I started by making *JUST NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER* a soup in the crockpot to freeze. I've started trying to buy meat with no sugar in it, seriously?? SUGAR IN MEAT?<br />
<br />
I've been looking up videos on how to cut summer squash.<br /><br />Who is this girl?<br />
<br />
A girl under control goddamnit. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-54988949046197399262016-06-09T06:34:00.003-07:002016-06-09T06:38:58.501-07:00My Mom Died, So I Got A Tattoo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yesterday was June 8th. (Today is June 9th! Come here to learn important things about dates!)<br />
<br />
Four years ago, on June 8th, my mom died.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to a few years ago when John and I went to Vietnam and then Thailand and tried to get real <span style="color: #990000;"><a href="http://sak-yant.com/" target="_blank">Buddhist Sak Yant tattoos</a> </span>and the monk totally jacked up the prices so we never got them.<br />
<br />
But once you get the idea for a tattoo in your brain, it's pretty hard to get it out.<br />
<br />
Ever since I've been toying with a Buddhist tattoo. Now, you're not really supposed to have idols of the Buddha, like Buddha heads and stuff, that's not really a Buddhist thing. So I didn't want THE BUDDHA as a tattoo. And I wasn't looking for some simply <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=buddhist+symbology&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjW1LT3hpvNAhUPNFIKHQJGCFkQ_AUICCgB&biw=1226&bih=672" target="_blank">symbology</a>, although, that's cool, but truth? I don't know what a lot of that stuff means. I definitely didn't want a Buddhist tat I didn't understand.<br />
<br />
In my mother's house, she had a piece of art, <a href="http://s1009.photobucket.com/user/ebizpix/media/arts/buddha/IMG_0573.jpg.html" target="_blank">a beautiful and graceful hand</a>. For much of my life I never thought that it was anything other than a beautiful hand and in my adult life, I learned that hand was the Buddha's hand. I've loved it ever since. <br />
<br />
One thing for sale in Thailand that is not the Buddha's head or likeness, is the Buddha's hand, it's a thing I like to buy for people and I bought one for myself. It's pretty and it makes me feel peaceful and it reminds me of my mom and my childhood.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago I went out on an adventure with my friend Erica. We were going to a big mindfulness thing, a run, some yoga, and a guided meditation. We were going to yoga and run and meditate and then we were going to drink and get tattoos.<br />
<br />
But see? It was freezing that day, almost literally freezing and it had POURED rain the night before. There was no running (for us, we cheated and walked), there was no outdoor yoga (some girls seriously set up their mats right next to huge puddles, we um, didn't) and there was no way we were staying for the meditation. Instead, we went and ate huge breakfasts and got really tired and went home and watched movies and ate Thai food at our respective houses. And it was glorious.<br />
<br />
But no tattoos achieved. It wasn't right, neither one of us was feeling it like a tattoo-getter should. All good there though, we had a fun and weird day.<br />
<br />
SO, upcoming, June 8th, mom's death day. It's my new New Years, it's the way I measure my life now because it's so clear where I was that specific day both mentally and physically, I use it as a yardstick now.<br />
<br />
And it's a big day for me, some years it's been sad, yesterday it was empowering.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I got my mom's Buddha hand tattooed on my body. Oh and I battled "I'm too old," I battled "But you're not really a Buddhist," I battled "THIS IS PERMANENT YOUNG (old) LADY, nice girls don't get tattoos that all the world can see! (I have 3 other tattoos and all of them are relatively hidden, this is my first "out there" tat).<br />
<br />
But alas, I did it. At 12:15 on a random (not to me) Wednesday, I GOT ME TAT!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpHgPXdy2znUe7pa6045pIyaszjGvVLMVvi-alwznUZ-BdoEWvOyu-R5Na9a68xq6aiRnXchLCSiwIW6Ew_5v4Rb-jqY-9NUKrn2Eky8OyE9Zch3y5IhYXYZDq5QWmyXVXs_n/s1600/IMG_3114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpHgPXdy2znUe7pa6045pIyaszjGvVLMVvi-alwznUZ-BdoEWvOyu-R5Na9a68xq6aiRnXchLCSiwIW6Ew_5v4Rb-jqY-9NUKrn2Eky8OyE9Zch3y5IhYXYZDq5QWmyXVXs_n/s320/IMG_3114.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
OMG! omg.<br />
<br />
I can't believe I did it and I kind of freaking love it. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-41902574899509690822016-05-31T12:08:00.002-07:002016-05-31T12:08:36.578-07:00On Not Having Children<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was talking with a few female, childless friends of mine recently (it even sounds sad, it isn't trust me) and we were talking about how we don't have kids, have chosen not to have kids and how great it is not to have kids.<br />
<br />Sorry, people with kids, but it's so great not having any. Granted, I don't know what it feels like to have kids, but you don't know what it feels like to NOT have any kids.<br />
<br />
I have absolutely ZERO worries or fears or needs regarding "legacy." I just never have. My bloodline continuing on- I just don't think about it or worry about it. All the billions of people on or under the earth, I don't think the universe cares about my bloodline and neither do I. Even in my work, I don't feel the need to create work that lasts. My work is something for me to do while I'm here, has nothing to do with when I'm gone.<br />
<br />
John and I talked this weekend about luxury and how even though relatively, we are BROKE still. We live in luxury, a beautiful neighborhood, a vibrant (and deadly, ugh) city, enough money to go to dinner and travel some. And I thought, that's part of not having kids for me, I'm TOTALLY going to enjoy my luxury. <br />
<br />
Anyhoo, my lady friends started talking about how tired they are of defending themselves. People's questions, assumptions - how they are told that they'll never "feel that love" or what's wrong with them or what kind of woman doesn't have children?<br />
<br />And I was honestly surprised. No one, NO ONE, ever asks me about my decision not to have children. I never get those questions, the only time it happens is when we're traveling and the people in India are terrified for us that we don't have kids, but that's fine, they can be afraid for me. All day long. I'd love for someone to come up to me and question me about it. Bring it. However, no one finds it necessary to do that with me. Maybe I'm too old now to even ask, but I can say, inside of the United States - no one has second-guessed me about having kids.<br />
<br />
But I was listening to Rebecca Solnit and<span style="color: #cc0000;"> <a href="http://harpers.org/archive/2015/10/the-mother-of-all-questions/1/" target="_blank">she wrote a whole essay about those questions and how to answer them. </a></span><br />
<br />And I loved this part:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
People lock onto motherhood as a key to feminine identity in part from
the belief that children are the best way to fulfill your capacity to
love, even though the list of monstrous, ice-hearted mothers is
extensive. <b>But there are so many things to love besides one’s own
offspring, so many things that need love, so much other work love has to
do in the world.</b></blockquote>
</blockquote>
Bam. Way to nail it Solnit. <br />
</div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-86014278419829041982016-05-03T10:32:00.002-07:002016-05-03T10:37:23.372-07:00Windfall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Anyone who knows me knows that we have been um, sort of um, BROKE AS ALL SHIT.<br />
<br />
Broke so broke.<br />
<br />
So so SO broke. Brokebrokebrokebrokebroke. (what tv/movie is that from? I can see a woman saying it over and over....)<br />
<br />
Well, it's spring, that happens to be a good time for me - winters can be slow (and awesome!), but it all picks up now. And other people I live with have gotten jobs...<br />
<br />
AND.<br />
<br />
I got a little windfall! A little windfall that will just bring us back to stasis and a little to put away for the next time.<br />
<br />
Which leads me to this:<br />
<br />
As I was walking home from going to the bank to deposit my windfall check, I promised myself, "never again." Never again, I kept saying over and over as I walked, never again and I started to say it out loud, never again, never again...<br />
<br />
And then, with all the glory of the universe, that turned into:<br />
<br />
AS GOD IS MY WITNESS!!!<br />
<br />
But I added something:<br />
<br />
AS GOD IS MY FUCKING WITNESS!!!<br />
<br />
I will never go broke again.<br />
<br />
As god is my FUCKING WITNESS.<br />
<br />
I will never go broke again. <br />
<br />
It made me laugh out loud. Mostly because it's truth. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-46165879855626641592016-04-24T13:03:00.000-07:002016-04-24T13:04:14.039-07:00I'm a Barefoot, Eccentric, Old Lady<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Man. Prince.<br />
<br />
I'm sad pretty honestly.<br />
<br />
Anyhoo, April was quite a month. I had 3.5 scary/cool/butscary things happening in April. And I'm a worrier and a planner, so April has been on my radar for awhile now. I've had fear and apprehension about all 3.5.<br />
<br />
My fear, in hindsight, was never all that serious. I think it's how I motivate myself actually. I planned really well for all 3.5 of these things and all 3.5 turned out well because of my pre-planning. Actual things fixed because I PLANNED for them to go wrong. My fear led me all scenarios and to figure out answers for each scenario.<br />
<br />
And it helped! So. I'm bringing back fear. It's not so bad.<br />
<br />
My last of 3.5 things was yesterday and it turned out more beautifully than I could have hoped. My last of the 3.5 turned out the best and they all turned out pretty well.<br />
<br />
But today I am WIPED. I feel like I'm sick and I know that I'm not. I had a thing to go to today, a thing I really wanted to go to on this bright sunshiney day and I set out to go there and I couldn't. My feet would not take me there. So I listened. And it is pretty out.<br />
<br />
So I slow-walked. I took it so slow today. I wanted the sunshine, I wanted to move, but not hard, not fast.<br />
<br />
I've been practicing my barefoot walking. It's what I'm into now, there are some who say it's all about learning to walk barefoot again, as someone who really is into my feet and walking and staying mobile - it makes really logical sense.<br />
<br />
When was the last time you tried walking barefoot, like, down the street? And not the concrete, that's not great either, but in the grass on the side?<br />
<br />
IT'S HARD. It's really hard. It takes total focus so as not to hurt myself/step in poop/step on a bee/whatever. So it's slow-going now for me in the beginning. And I'm shocked, completely shocked at how I've lost touch with my feet. Seriously. It is odd and uncomfortable to walk barefoot, I'm looking to change that.<br />
<br />
But like I said, it's slow-going, so I don't listen to podcasts or music, I'm generally looking down the whole time, I need to keep everything focused on my next step, so the other great thing about it is, it's really quiet. My ears are quiet, my voice, my mind even, because it's focusing hard on what it's doing.<br />
<br />
And then afterwards? My feet tingle! It feels SO GOOD. It's like fucking nerves waking up, it is so nice and ....<br />
<br />
I took this really nice, quiet, barefoot walk in my neighborhood.<br />
<br />
I'm getting old and eccentric maybe. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-44994491111800595832016-03-24T13:12:00.000-07:002016-03-24T13:20:52.908-07:00Suck It In. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The first thing I noticed when I started meditating was the rock that lives in my stomach, the hard little ball of anxiety that feels like the size of a tennis ball. As I would go through relaxing each part of my body, each time I got to the rock in my stomach, it never relaxed, in fact, it got tighter.<br />
<br />
Now, 16 months later, a whole year and a half, that rock in my stomach is still there, as tight and as apparent as ever. Now I don't even try to relax it, I learn to just let it be there and to know that it's there.<br />
<br />
Until I started meditating though, I didn't think about my stomach rock, I'm not even really sure I knew it was there before. But lest we get confused, that is not to say that I wasn't paying attention to my "abs" although, now it's "core." From maybe the time I was 12, I've been aware of my stomach, isn't that the age when that happens? And I see now that since I was 12 years old, I've been holding in my stomach.<br />
<br />
It starts because you can hold in your stomach and it looks so much different when you do. I think as young teen girls, we start "sucking it in." The problem is, at 45, I'm still doing it. <br />
<br />
You do it too right? For so many reasons, maybe now it's not teen fear of a tiny bit of tummy hanging, but now, we're engaging our core, firing up our abs, we're doing the good work. Pulling our bellybuttons to our spine, yes? But I still feel like, at least for me, it's still about how it looks physically. <br />
<br />
But it wasn't until I read my Nutritional Movement (you guys, she tells you NOT to run, don't you want to check it??) and reading that to hold in your stomach like that is really dangerous. Your organs and all those things in there need that space - that's the whole point! If you're holding in your stomach in one, two, three inches, that is that much more crowded it gets in there. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: red;"><a href="http://nutritiousmovement.com/push-em-out-push-em-out/" target="_blank">It's really not good for you. </a></span></span><br />
<br />
And to do weird ab exercises that only work one way your abs work for like, what, 5 minutes a day, 2 or 3 days a week? Not that helpful. <br />
<br />
So now my girl Katie is telling me I should relax my fucking abs. <br />
<br />
And it is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Seriously, and I quit smoking. <br />
<br />
It is frightening to me and to the me that used to be a teenager and a 20-year-old, then 30 then 40, that I literally cannot relax my stomach. I can do it for maybe 30 seconds until I forget and it all clenches back up again. Sometimes I can't even tell if it's relaxed or if I'm just forcing it.<br />
<br />
I honestly cannot tell if my stomach is relaxed or not.<br />
<br />
And 30 years really, 30 years of actively trying to hold it in. And all of the mental bullshit that comes with that and the fear of "letting my stomach hang out." JESUS CHRIST, I'm so tired of it all.<br />
<br />
Relax. Your. Crack. Hixx.<br />
<br />
You're hurting yourself now, not helping.<br />
<br />
Chill OUT. <br />
<br />
Tell me, can you relax your abs, stomach area, core? <br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-4561228772723724902016-02-28T11:52:00.000-08:002016-02-28T11:54:18.711-08:00Cockblocking Responsibility<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When I was 20, I totally thought I was going to have kids. By about 22, I was pretty sure I wasn't.<br />
<br />
It's such a big decision. And to actively choose not to, it's hard you know? Because, this is what you do. Go to college. Buy house. Have kids.<br />
<br />
I dropped out of college. Twice. The SAME COLLEGE. Twice. And I rent. Like a boss. <br />
<br />
I was talking to John about a possible business partnership and as soon as the realization of responsibility came up, my stomach got sick. I got tight, aggravated and felt put upon. As we were talking about this I said something that I think sums up everything about who I am in one sentence:<br />
<br />
"I just want to be able to change my mind whenever I want without affecting anyone."<br />
<br />
Boom.<br />
<br />
I was taken back to when I was 10. Greeley School. Winnetka, IL. We were singing "Sailing," yes, that one, and we were all on stage and my music teacher handed ME the triangle and had me stand in front of everyone and hit it like, 10 times at specific times.<br />
<br />
I hated it. I remember now thinking, "I don't want to be responsible for this triangle. Or this song, or getting the timing right. Someone else should do it." And it wasn't that I didn't care. I did. I liked singing Sailing just fine, I just don't want to be responsible for the fucking triangle. <br />
<br />
Team sports? No thanks! GUH. Is there anything worse than being responsible for someone else's goal, point, basket? BLECH. I can't think of a bigger hell.<br />
<br />
Everytime I try to work with someone else on a project, a project that's half mine or whatever, I get upset and sad and trapped. I'll happily help you with your project, as long as I'm just the volunteer and have no responsibility and it's really your project and on your head. And I'm great running my own projects and having people help me, that's lovely!Thank goodness for all of the help people have given me.<br />
<br />
And don't think for one second sometimes even the dog (my precious, perfect, wonderful and spectacular dog) doesn't sometimes get lumped into "responsibility." I think it's actually amazing I have a dog at all. It's the most responsibility for someone else I've ever had. Even my husband admitted he sees this very clearly in me and knew when
he married me he couldn't get in they way of my choices and that he has
his own version of letting me alone. He also keeps trying to get me to want to "buy" a house, condo, whatever. I have no interest. Can you imagine being responsible for A WHOLE HOUSE?? WHY!!!?!!? Why would I do something like that? I'm such a happy renter. <br />
<br />
So children were out. They just were. I can't think of anyone being more affected by my decisions than any children I might have. I wondered for awhile if this was a problem, my lack of responsibility for other people - and fuck it. Who cares. I have great passion for what I have great passion for and the fact that I can change that passion RIGHT NOW without hurting anyone, or putting anyone out, or pissing anyone off, is about the greatest level of freedom I can imagine.<br />
<br />
Plus, if I follow my Buddhist teachings, I'll be back on this earth again.<br />
<br />
I'll have kids then.<br />
<br />This life? This life is for pleasing me most of all.<br />
<br />SUCK IT RESPONSIBILITY!!!! <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-62610076890481936412016-02-17T09:39:00.000-08:002016-02-17T09:39:15.254-08:00Eight Worldy Winds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I won't talk too much about Buddhism here, that's my own thing and if you're curious about my thoughts on it, you'll ask me.<br />
<br />
BUT. Heh.<br />
<br />
There are eight worldly winds:<br />
Gain and Loss<br />
Pleasure and Pain<br />
Fame and Infamy<br />
Praise and Blame<br />
<br />
The idea is, don't give much credence to one over the other right? You can't walk around all proud of your gain and yell and scream about your loss. <br /><br />They're all the same see? Floating in and out of your life.<br />
<br />
I've had this amazing experience happen before, but I just had an amazing worldly wind experience happen to me last night.<br />
<br />
I HAD A BIG FUCKING WIN last night. A big win. I've been working on something, an important person liked what I did and it was A HUGE FUCKING SCORE and it was praise and I ate it up.<br />
<br />
And I'll tell you, the physical reaction to great praise, is pretty much the exact same reaction to great blame.<br />
<br />
I got shaky, my stomach felt tight, my breathing got lighter and faster, my head bowed down, my fingers rolling through my hair and then what shocked me about my great praise? <br />
<br />
I started to cry.<br />
<br />
YES I AM A WOMAN, and yes we cry at intense emotion (it's when you cry when you're quitting a job, or really angry that is so frustrating), but it was the exact same tears, face, body stance, as crying when upset or taking blame.<br />
<br />
Everytime I get a good Trip Advisor review, my heart starts to beat, my stomach sinks, I get really hot. Once when I got the worst review EVER that anyone has ever gotten, my heart started to beat, my stomach sank and I got really hot.<br />
<br />
I don't know, it was just really interesting to me that emotion is emotion and you can't let any of it sink and stay. They're just winds, blowing around, one no more important than the other.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY</div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-30738284285086291122016-02-09T12:11:00.000-08:002020-07-14T09:48:43.260-07:00On Being An Invisible Middle-Aged Woman<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There's this saying, rumor, warning - that when women become middle-aged they become "invisible."<br />
Younger people pass us by, men aren't catcalling us anymore, no one sees the 51-year-old woman. <br />
<br />
That's what they say and I hope to God it's true. I've been waiting my whole life to be invisible.<br />
<br />
I already try to keep myself as quiet and compact as possible anyway. I generally have everything I need on me so I don't need to make a big stink about finding tampons or lotion or whatever middle-aged ladies need (maybe not tampons then?). I don't wear big coats and big scarves and gloves, I am not "swarthy." I keep my elbows in and my mouth closed, the only thing moving all around on me, are my eyes. <br />
<br />
I keep my clothes as indistinct as possible. A pair of jeans, a sweater, boots. Coat. Done. Nothing to look at here folks...<br />
<br />
Really the only thing that stands out about me physically is my hair and a lot of times, if I'm headed out on a Margaret walk (which is really any walk) - I'll put it up, or in a hat, or out of the way, so no one notices me. It's not that I'm just hiding from leering men either, I'm just trying to sink quietly into the background. <br />
<br />
I try to keep my body small on planes, trains and automobiles. I like taking up little amounts of space, it is not my goal to take over where I go, it's my goal to get smaller, quieter, less noticeable. <br />
<br />
The less people see me (when I'm trying not to be seen, obviously I'm a tour guide, so...but you know what I mean) the better. I cannot wait until I'm completely invisible.<br />
<br />
Because you know what else? You don't notice me taking photos in a building I'm not supposed to be taking photos in. I can do secret, fun things because no one believes a 45-year-old middle-aged woman is doing anything illegal or fun. I hide back and listen to conversations, I sneak into things, I sneak past things, I hear things, see things and notice things and I promise you would never look twice.<br />
<br />
I like my autonomy, that's why I like Chicago - everyone's trying to be "seen" in New York or LA, I'm not interested in being seen, I'm actively interested in being not seen. <br />
<br />
It's so fucking awesome.<br />
<br />
I want my business and work to be noticed of course. But personally, not so much. That way I can concentrate on what I want, not worry about who's looking/judging/leering/staring. <br />
<br />
Can't wait for the transformation to be complete....<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-20520572727352622212016-02-01T09:54:00.003-08:002016-05-04T15:14:28.185-07:00Men. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's such an interesting time for all of us now. <br />
<br />
All this lady stuff, all this admitting of being afraid of men, of trying to stand up to that fear, of wondering if any of that is going to change ever.<br />
<br />
I've been holding off on a lot of this - I lived a long time thinking I was not afraid of men. My mother LOVED men, always, I was never taught to be afraid of men by my mother. I have 3 AMAZING older brothers who are kind, helpful, hilarious, artistic, gentle and have saved me from all kinds of doom.<br />
<br />
I have men friends too. Many of them. SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE MEN.<br />
<br />
And then when women really started speaking up about all this, I never denied those were their experiences with fear and harassment, but I didn't feel the same way. Sure, I *used to* get cat calls and such and it pissed me off, but come on, par for the course. <br />
<br />
And then of course I started looking deeper, agreeing that we are taught from a young age to be afraid. Then came the Margaret Atwood quote:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Men are afraid that women are going to laugh at them, women are afraid men are going to kill them.</blockquote>
<br />
Damn, that totally rings true, really as anything Margaret Atwood says rings true.<br />
<br />
And I started to be mindful and began to notice my fear of men, which is if of course, ingrained, deep and scary.<br />
<br />
It's fast, first of all. The judgement, the sizing up and down, the decisions of whether a man is "dangerous" is so fucking fast. All humans size each other up, but women have this extra layer of judgement we have to administer quickly. Is he smiling at me because he's happy, sick, malicious, a rapist, a priest? And then in SECONDS we decide how to respond to this, look away, smirk, sneer, look down (the most popular and least offensive choice) or god forbid, smile back. <br />
<br />
The other day I was the only lady in a movie theater with a dude. I clutched my keys in my hand for the whole movie - the only weapon I had on me - keys held just right in my fingers in case this guy decided to attack in the middle of the movie. <br />
<br />
The one I caught yesterday, the one that led me to the writing of this post - I saw a big guy coming at me and my ingrained habit is to look around and see if I'm the only one on the street and make a split-second decision of whether I should cross the street, or stand up and stick my chest out, or do the opposite and play small. I saw some other dudes up the street emptying a car trunk and I thought "oh okay, I don't have to be afraid of this man, because there are other men over there" and the absurdity of being afraid of one man and feeling safe because of others was so strange and weird and amazing and sad that I realized...<br />
<br />
I'm just like every other woman out there. Totally afraid.<br />
<br />
There's a <span style="color: purple;"><a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/theater/ct-sexual-harassment-accusations-roil-chicago-improv-community-ent-0129-20160128-story.html" target="_blank">whole shakeup with women in comedy</a>,</span> specifically improv, in Chicago right now. It's an upturning for sure. So many women speaking out about being harassed and pressured. I don't remember being harassed on stage. I don't remember men making me prostitutes in scenes and then shooting me, I just don't remember it that way.<br />
<br />
But I do remember (and still see it as truth in a really weird fucked up kinda way) that the men were certainly in charge. I remember wanting to be cute and sexy for them so they would think I was funny and cast me in stuff. I remember how we made fun of men who "boob hugged" (that means the dude comes in low for the hug and then moves up so he can get a boob-rub). I remember thinking that that stuff never bothered me because I knew how to play with the big boys and I definitely remember other women feeling less than.<br />
<br />
I still believe it is in our genes and our DNA to be afraid of men, women have been afraid of men since caveman and beyond - it is nature. I believe that. I'm not sure what standing around and telling men how scared we are is going to help anything, maybe it will. Maybe it'll change the comedy theaters, maybe men will be more careful, maybe women will fight back more and maybe in my heart of hearts, that scares me almost more, because there is a part of me, I don't know if it's ingrained conditioning or what, but there's a part of me that believes all of this will have an effect on the work. <br />
<br />
Sigh. I don't know. I don't know what I think. <br />
<br />
I dunno. Hang tight ladies. I guess that's it. Hang tight. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-28705083104192568492016-01-20T13:10:00.002-08:002016-01-20T13:13:55.274-08:00Defending My Life - To No One in Particular<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few weeks back, during a particularly nasty weather day, a friend made a comment on the ever-dangerous FB about how shitty the weather is. I got called out on this post because of my love for winter. <br />
<br />
One thing I'm learning BIG TIME in meditation is how much I love to defend myself. Give me something to defend myself over? Holy shit, I'll be all over that. In my mind, I defend myself almost all day, for my opinions, thoughts. I'll have imaginary conversations with imaginary people - all defending myself.<br />
<br />
SO! I did so here too. And the slush and the shitty weather were making it hard for people to walk and in my snarky honesty I posted about how it was good exercise, no? <br />
<br />
And I actually got the middle finger - the written middle finger. <br />
<br />
That's fine. Not the first time. <br />
<br />
But this is where <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://nutritiousmovement.com/blog/" target="_blank">this </a></span>comes from:<br />
<br />
http://nutritiousmovement.com/blog/<br />
<br />
This is Katy Says - she changed her name for the website, but I started following when she was Katy Says and so...that's what she is to me. DEFENDING WHAT I CALL THIS WOMAN...see?<br />
<br />
Anyhoo, Katy is all about natural movement. She's really freaking logical and cute and interesting and I've been getting really into it. She's a big believer in walking a ton (ahem, yes, me too), she's a big believer in "working out like a fiend isn't really doing you any favors," which is always nice to hear. She's all about retaining mobility through your older years, and this is my job, so it's important to me too. <br />
<br />
She believes in going outside, getting strong all day, loads instead of just movement (bike riding and swimming are "dessert" movements because there's no load) and I bought some of her videos for 5$ and they are awesome and have helped me tremendously. She also gives a lot of information away for free. Best.<br />
<br />
Well, my girl Katy is big on going outside in winter.<span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.icemanwimhof.com/method" target="_blank"> Lots of people </a></span>are getting<span style="color: red;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> <a href="http://www.bengreenfieldfitness.com/2013/09/tim-ferriss-cold-thermogenesis/" target="_blank">really into cold</a></span> </span>weather for your health. Katy is also really big on trying to vary your step, I walk on concrete for HOURS every day - that's not so good for me. Now I try and walk on the grass (good for your ankles), I try to hang on trees (<a href="http://www.menshealth.com/fitness/improve-your-pullup-and-overhead-press" target="_blank">hanging is also the new thing)</a>, so when it gets cold...<br />
<br />
YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE COLD! It's GOOD for you. It's good for you to learn how to walk on ice and through snow and sleet, it trains your body in a whole different way.<br />
<br />
You're supposed to be hot too. And carry different loads. And walk faster and slower and on a curve and over tree roots and you're supposed to lie in the grass and run through it barefoot and not wear high heels and watch your "treasured parts" on your bike (you're seriously smushing it all) and same with belts and bras even. <br />
<br />
Anyway. That's me defending myself. <br />
<br />
The next time it's gross out, maybe it's a challenge instead of hell? </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-27964652969055687252016-01-11T08:51:00.001-08:002016-01-11T08:51:58.266-08:00Men, Power and Buddha in the Swimming Pool<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've been having big issues with men at the gym. Men, you and your big bodies are pushing us ladies around, your grunting and staring at me while waiting impatiently for a machine are really annoying. I'm getting really tired of being physically manipulated by men I don't know.<br />
<br />
It's been especially apparent in the pool - sharing swimming lanes with some dudes is oh so annoying. They flail and kick so hard and take up the whole lane with their bodies. They're loud and everywhere all at once. It really aggravates me.<br />
<br />Yesterday I got to the pool as soon as the gym opened, 8AM. After my swim I was headed to the Buddhist Temple for a little Sunday quiet time, so I was in this really quiet mode. Two guys came in, friends or partners, they were chatty, but they hopped right in the pool and started swimming. <br /><br />One thing I love about swimming is how peaceful it is. I love watching other people swim because it's peaceful. The three of us were so peaceful in our 3-lane pool, we were just swish-swishing away. Cold, quiet Sunday morning. <br />
<br />And this dude comes stomping in. He's already taking up all the space with his stomps and he hasn't even gotten in the pool yet. Of course he settles down in my lane. Of course he does. Share the lane with the woman, because the other dudes are really *swimming*, obviously the woman-lane is for this guy. Dudes can push ladies around, so. <br /><br />He has no goggles, no cap, no anything. He motions to me from the other side of the pool about which side of the lane he wants. Fine. FINE.<br />
<br />And he starts swimming and this guys is THRASHING. He's thrashing, he's kicking all over, he's doing the freaking backstroke at points, hitting me in the leg, taking up the whole lane with his breaststroke.<br />
<br />And every time he gets to the other side of the pool he stops and waits for what seems like the worst moment and then swims just ahead of me and kicks water in my face. The whole pool is slopping around, it's loud and I have to move against the wall every time this guy goes by.<br />
<br />I get really angry then and I decide to show him a thing or two about women. I start swimming like a fiend. I'LL SHOW HIM. I'm swimming fast and smooth, no rest at the ends, I'm just jamming...<br />
<br />And honestly? Kicking harder and in his face when I go by.<br />
<br />I'm so annoyed this guy has ruined my meditative swimming practice. I'm so annoyed, I'm purposefully making it harder him. That'll show 'em, should have gotten in the men's lane. <br />
<br />
When I'm finished, I take off all my goggles and caps and the guy says "how many did you get in?"<br />
<br />And I'm like, "I don't count laps, I just go for time. 1/2 hour or whatever."<br />
<br />And he says, "I just started swimming and man, every lap is like a mile to me."<br />
<br />
And my whole body let go.<br />
<br />He was just starting.<br />
<br />This is a struggle for him.<br />
<br />
He was probably too embarrassed to go swim in the lane with the smooth "dudes." No wonder he came into my lane.<br />
<br />Every lap is like a mile to him.<br />
<br />Fucking guy doing his best.<br />
<br />
And we chatted and we talked and I opened up and felt awfully about what I had done. And then I realized how nice it is that I cared so much that this guy was just starting - so I didn't beat myself up over it - but MAN OH MAN, you just don't know what is going on with people. He wasn't man-bullying me around - he was trying to fucking learn and get better. <br /><br />I told him to stick with it.<br />
<br />Then I went to my Buddhist service, sat quietly, thought about him, wished him well and then I saw an old, dear friend I haven't seen in many years and it was just about the greatest morning I've ever had.<br />
<br />
There it is. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-18455741970960513682016-01-08T11:33:00.000-08:002016-01-08T11:33:03.808-08:0050 Shades of Whatever the Fuck<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
About two years ago, after taking a really solid look at myself - I decided something.<br />
<br />I decided to let my natural hair color grow in.<br />
<br />
Like most ladies, I have been coloring my hair for FOREVER. I started in college, just for fun and then eventually I noticed gray hairs in the roots and then I started to color it because OH MY GOD I CAN'T LET MY GRAY HAIR GROW and I'm still so YOUNG.<br />
<br />
I also color my own hair most of the time too, for reasons:<br />
<br />
The time in the salon.<br />
<br />The small talk.<br />
<br />The fact that it takes 2 hours to get my hair colored and cut.<br />
<br />
The small talk.<br />
<br />
The $$.<br />
<br />The small talk.<br />
<br />
And you know when I color my own hair I'm a big spaz right? And there are like, clumps of color in one part of my hair and none in the other and it got so bad, it really did. <br />
<br />
And I thought, once I turned 40. <br /><br />But at 40, I couldn't let it go.<br />
<br />
By 43 or so, my caring so much what I looked like started to fade. My hair was starting to fade. I was getting sick and tired of the television telling me what I should look like (can your hair pass through the head of a pin? NO??!?!?! YOU ARE FLAWED) and I had a friend stylist who told me truths about my hair. <br /><br />So I started growing it out. I got my hair cut pretty short, then my salon friend put a few highlights in and we started the process.<br />
<br />
And it all comes full circle 2 years later, when my sister-in-law asked me in all honesty, who was coloring my hair because it looks awesome? <br />
<br />And I jumped up and hugged her and shook my fancy hair all over her face.<br />
<br />I didn't, but I could have.<br />
<br />And now my hair is my own color, the color it's supposed to be. Now I spend 20$ every 3 months to get a great haircut at Supercuts and they never make me talk to them if I don't want to.<br />
It's long too, past my shoulders, and it's 80,000 colors of blonde and gray and brown and I love it.<br />
<br />I recommend it ladies. There's more to it than just the $$ or the small talk (not really, the small talk is the ultimate victory, but this has to have a moral ending) but I'm not fucking around with that bullshit anymore. Ain't no one telling the Hixx what hair color she should have or that she should put her hair through pins to be a success.<br />
<br />If you're thinking about it? Try it. Just try it. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-71236650851862426272016-01-03T08:26:00.000-08:002016-01-03T08:26:03.815-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's 10AM on Sunday. I had an 8AM downtown tour (it was AWESOME, they always are, I'm telling you, go on an early morning tour) and I was really surprised how many drunk people there are at 10AM downtown on a Sunday. <br /><br />It is a holiday weekend, but wow. In just the Metra station, I have seen drunk boys in the Popeye's yelling at middle-aged women (me) passing by. Then in the Starbucks there's this girl...woman...20-something, she's got a breakfast sandwich and a coke and she's in this huge leopard coat and she has copper red dyed hair and lots of eye makeup on and she's taking up space with her energy and she's talking on the phone.<br />
<br />
And she has ended up in Chicago, she has no idea how. I can tell she's drunk and she's telling her friend that she ended up here, she doesn't know how, she's drunk and she's getting back on a train to Indiana at 10:45.<br />
<br />
We were watching Maury the other day and all these men and women were yelling and screaming and punching and I just find it so hard to believe that people lead lives like this.<br />
<br />
My life is so not like this.<br />
<br />And I know I won the lottery, I know I did. I had a nice family and a nice education and nice friends and I have a nice husband and I am absolutely the 1%.<br />
<br />
But also, Margaret herself, is a really middle-ground person. I protect myself from "feelings." It's part of the reason I don't want children, that's too much emotion, I'm not interested in that. And sometimes I wonder, sometimes, if my life is boring, or maybe I'm not tasting enough or "loving" enough or experimenting enough or stretching life to it's edges enough...<br />
<br />
and then I hear leopard-coat girl saying she ran out of her house because she couldn't take it anymore and got drunk and doesn't even know Chicago and no, there is no one to pick her up at the train station in Indiana once she gets there....<br />
<br />
And I'm, not grateful, but aware that lives like that, that much emotion and chaos, do really exist and how aware I am that my life is not like that. And more and more, as I get older of course, it gets less and less like that every day. Boring? Maybe. Safe and sound? Absolutely. </div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-43620502794655256972015-12-29T06:33:00.002-08:002015-12-29T06:33:58.283-08:00Ram Daas Slams It DOWN<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Don’t treat yourself so gingerly; you can let go of stuff. Sometimes it
takes three breaths instead of two to do it, but you can do it. Be a
little tougher and don’t cling to stuff. People go around carrying
everybody’s stuff all of the time. I just pick it up and put it down.
Pick it up and put it down. That doesn’t mean I’m not compassionate, it
doesn’t mean I don’t love people. But holding onto people’s suffering is
not compassionate… for them o<span class="text_exposed_show">r for you. That’s what is so bizarre about it.</span></blockquote>
</div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8403549.post-9775064047176308842015-12-26T10:57:00.002-08:002015-12-26T10:59:02.121-08:00It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's OVER!!<br />
<br />
HA! YES! DONE!!!<br />
<br />
Christmas is over! The goose got fat! THEY ATE THE GOOSE (the one as big as me sir?) and all that is left is the bones of the Christmas goose.<br />
<br />
And I am really good with it.<br />
<br />
Downtown was so crowded this holiday season, what with the warm weather and all, it was a madhouse down there. Busier than any Lolla ever.<br />
<br />
And it's great and horrible because it's these huge families and they're all fighting and laughing and taking up the whole sidewalk and they're SLOW because they're happy and fighting and my parents are both gone and there is no "going home" anymore for me, that means nothing to me now and I see these families and these little kids and they're just going to grow up and someone is going to have to tell them it's never going to be that easy again...<br />
<br />
When I quit smoking, I remember being relieved when winter came, because really no one wanted to smoke outside in winter - in summer it was everywhere - in winter there was relief.<br />
<br />
I feel like that now - it's over - I don't have to watch all the things I want and had at one point and don't have now (don't feel too bad for me, we head to my husband's house in Wisco next week for family Christmas, but it's not my blood family, not our traditions, etc) and now we're all back on equal footing again.<br />
<br />
Bring on the ice, bring on the snow, bring on the quiet, bring in the funk, bring in the noise...<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Hixxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03879777399752620803noreply@blogger.com0