Summer Sounds Vol. 2

The Mynabirds : Numbers Don't Lie

I've only made it to two shows this summer (an all time low I think) and this was one of them. This band from Omaha, NE is absolutely outstanding. If you haven't already been listening to them, start doing it now. Now.

The Avett Brothers : Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promises

These guys were the second show I saw this summer. I saw them last summer at Sasquatch and thought they were pretty rockin, so took the opportunity to see them headline. I was not disappointed. There song "Kick Drum Heart" has been known to add an extra umph to my workouts, too.

Mumford & Sons : Little Lion Man

I saw these guys several years ago at a tiny little dive bar in London and sort of forgot about them until they came blasting across the radio waves on 94.7. I am now sad for all the years I missed them.

Janelle Monae : Tightrope

Such an outstandingly killer tune. Every time I hear it I just wanna dance. Dance, baby, dance. My legs move a little faster when this comes on my Shuffle.

Scissor Sisters : Fire with Fire

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Jake Shears makes me want to be a gay man. Night Work was well worth the wait and is an fabulously gay rock opera. Loves it and can't wait to see them in September.

Florence + the Machine : Dog Days are Over

I've known about this band for quite some time, but have to admit it wasn't until seeing the preview for Eat, Pray, Love that I had no choice but to download their album. So. Good.

David Bowie : Modern Love

Because I am a sucker for the classics and this song speaks to me on an unearthly level.

Living Example

I am regularly told that Hendrix surprises people. They are amazed that a pit bull mix can be so submissive, loving and delightfully playful. They say, "oh, she is not at all what I imagined a pit bull would be like". I assure them that despite what they may have previously believed she is not the exception to the breed but the rule. She is a living example of how wonderful and loyal these dogs not only can be, but are.

This of course has got me to thinking about how I might too become a living example of how wonderful the human breed can be.

In several of my courses recently we have discussed advocacy and being an ally. What exactly qualifies you for this status? Can you simply call yourself an advocate? Is there a certain process one must go through, particular steps that must be taken, boxes that must be ticked? I would argue no. It came to me the other day during Intro to Family Therapy, one can be an advocate simply by living a life that leaves no doubt as to where you stand on the issue. That is in fact exactly how I try to live my life. I hope that there is never any doubt as to what I am passionate about.

I do not have the time I would like to be able to give to charities and volunteer work. If there were 26 hours in the day I would give the extra two away, but instead I take the 24 I am given and put them towards my education in hopes that one day soon I will more adequately be able to help change the world. And until I am able to be a more active ally I use my voice as my tool for change. I stand up for what I believe in and make my voice heard.

The World I Want for My Nephews

This summer has been exhausting for me. My 14 credit course load hasn't taken the wind out of my sails, but it has taken away my time and motivation to blog. I barely have enough time to keep up with all my reading and writing let alone find the time to infiltrate the blogosphere with my self-indulgent ramblings. However, I have had an ample amount of time reflect on the type of therapist I hope to one day become and in turn the kind of world I hope to help create. A better kind of world that my nephew's will inherit and be thankful to have.

I hope my nephews never know the hate, injustice and inequality that exists in our world today. I pray that Sytahn never has racial slurs hit his perfect little ears. That the world accepts him for the beautiful, thoughtful, loving little boy that he is. That he is able to maintain his innocence and curiosity and so be able to grow to be a beautiful, thoughtful, loving young man.

I hope that they both come of age in a world were we openly and happily acknowledge that love is love. We finally understand that love does not care about gender or sexual identity, so that my wonderful nephews will be able to love and be loved in a way that makes them happy and fulfilled without judgement or disgust.

I want the world they inherit to be full of the goodness I see in it. To be free of war and hatred. A world where there is no need for political statement t-shirts or bumper stickers.

I hope Tyson has access to every advantage and opportunity that he deserves. That he never has to know the taunts or teases of unkind classmates. That he meets and exceeds the expectations set for him by ignorant political blowhards.

I pray that every day they understand how much they are loved and how precious of a commodity they are not only to my family but to the world. That they are filled with fire and inspiration to make the world a better place, to treat others with the kindness that so fully inhabits them both. That they are strong to stand up to the ugliness in the world and encompass the ethos of community.

I want the world they inherit to be better simply because they are in it.

Hitting Reset

As part of my portfolio requirements for my master's program I have to complete 10 hours of therapy, which I am trying to take seriously. Number 1: I'm paying this woman a considerable amount of money to not and number 2: I will be the first to admit that I am not without my issues.

The point here though is not to go over these issues. There isn't enough blog space in the world for that. But my therapist did say something the other week that really resonated with me and I've been thinking about it ever since. Just sort of in passing she mentioned that it seems like I've hit the reset button on my life. At first I just agreed and didn't think much of it, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that is exactly what I've done.

I look back at a certain period of my life, let's just call it college, and I think, "how was I that girl?" Then I begrudgingly moved back to the US and spent 2 1/2 years in Phoenix trying to figure out who exactly I was if not that girl. I know I wasn't always a treat to be around for that period of time. I am sure that more than one person was turned off and turned away from my incessant "this isn't my life either" mentality, but it was all part of the process of getting me here. Of getting me to this point where I can say "it doesn't matter who I was but who I want to be" and reaching out and hitting that reset button.

I may not love Portland, but I love my life and I love who I have become, the best me I can be.

Sometimes Mum is Right

I think it is fair to say that most women (whoa, yes, I just referred to girls as women) my age have at least the slightest bit of fear about turning into their mother. Don't get me wrong, I love my mum. She's an awesome and inspiring lady. She has done far more with her life than I'm sure I ever will and thus has taught me that being a strong woman is where it's at. But in many respects we are polar opposites. Sure, I insist that my towels are folded a certain way (not her way, but nonetheless it's an inherited trait) and that the toilet paper must come from the top down, but I am the hippie child that my mum cannot figure out how she spawned. On more than one occasion I have heard her say, "how did you turn out like this?" Not in a bad way. She loves me, hippie, flightiness and all, but looks aside, the apple obviously rolled down the hill after it fell off the tree.

Needless to say, my mum and I do not always see eye to eye (mostly on all things relating to politics and my love of Barack Obama and her love of Sarah Palin). We hardly ever argue, but it is generally agreed that we simply do not agree. However, political views aside, my mum is a pretty insightful lady. I rarely make any kind of major decision without consulting her and she truly is one of my best friends. If I have a terrible day, it is her number that I dial first.

It seems strange, but we did not become close until after my parents divorced. Prior to that I was an annoyed tween that was generally quite unpleasant. Mostly because I didn't like myself very much. It was during this time that Mum started preaching the gospel of "You only get better with age". I didn't see how this could be possible. I only saw myself getting uglier and fatter. I'd probably end up with braces (I did) and glasses (those too) and be alone with my cats (except I'm allergic) for the rest of my life. What did this lady know?

Slowly, I started to see a glimmer of hope. I lost 30 pounds the summer I lived in London and the world seemed a little brighter. I wasn't exactly the queen of popularity in high school but I disliked it anyway and made it through unscathed, for the most part. I went on to college where boys started to notice me. Whoa. The end of my time in London was a bit of a low point for me, but I returned to the US determined to take the time to better myself, at least physically. While everything else seemed to be spinning out of control I figured at the very least I could handle that one aspect of my life.

Today, I am 60 pounds lighter than I was at 13. But more then being physically better, somewhere between the time when my mum starting preaching her crazy gospel and now, I actually really started liking myself. I discovered that she was right. At 27, I wear less make up than I have in years, I enjoy spending time alone and have the confidence to try pretty much anything. I can laugh at myself and not get torn up when others laugh at me. In fact, I've discovered that I get immense pleasure out of making others laugh, even if it is at me. I rarely look back at high school nostalgically, mostly because I really didn't like it, but also because I can hardly believe that I was once that girl who let other's opinion of her get her down. Now I say, "if you don't like me, nuts to you, that's your problem".

Recently my mum and I were talking about how I spent several of my early 20s years faking it until I could make it. I wasn't exactly where or what I wanted to be, but I figured that eventually I'd buy into my own attempt at confidence. Eventually I did. And I was surprised to hear that Mum too has at points in her life faked it to make it. I guess maybe we're more alike than I thought.

To Meat or Not to Meat?

I haven't given up something for Lent in years, literally. The last time I can recall was in high school and that was a pretty half-assed attempt at giving up pop. We were always told that if you could give it up for Lent you should be able to give it up forever. I generally agree with this philosophy, but since I do not attend church regularly (and putting it that way is generous) I wanted to find my own way to reflect on Jesus' sacrifice. After talking to a good friend and discovering that she'd been veggie for four months I decided to give a little more thought to how much meat I was consuming. It was far more than I had thought and it was definitely not that kind of meat I should be eating, i.e. it was highly processed junk meat. Thus, I gave up meat.

Lent is technically the 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday, but I decided to go for the gold and tack on the extra 7 days until Easter. That means I can officially eat meat today, but I have no plans to do so. I have no plans to do so in the immediate future, but I also do not plan to convert to being a full-on vegetarian. Instead, I am trying to figure out a middle ground where I contentiously consume meat no more than once a week.

Perhaps this seems somewhat counterproductive, but another friend made a very valid argument: why punish an entire industry when there are those farmers who are not so unethical? Yes, they are still killing animals, but I do still believe that animals are meant to be eaten. I enjoy eating meat, but I also cannot deny how amazing I have felt since I've given it up.

However, this cannot entirely be attributed to going veggie. It is not just that I have not eaten meat, but that I have put much more consideration into what I put in my body in general. I have been eating better overall and I can certainly continue to do so and occasionally eat meat. At least meat that is locally raised because the biggest part of the plan overall is to buy locally whether it is meat or fruits and vegetables. It's my own little food revolution.

Happy healthy eating! Vive la revolution!

This is What Accomplishment Feels Like

Ok, I know, running a 5k is really not that big of a deal. To be honest, I run at least 3.1 miles every day at the gym, but there is something about the feeling of crossing a finish line that makes a proper 5k feel like so much more. It's the atmosphere at a race that is infectious. All of those people cheering you on, the slight smell of competition in the air and the need to push yourself further and faster than you thought you could.

I'd been a bit nervous about not performing as well as I thought I should and last night I was even more anxious given that it was Daylight Savings Time today. Needless to say, my clock sprung ahead at about 7pm and I had two alarms set. I didn't want to feel rushed getting to the race and wanted plenty of time to mentally prepare since I would be running "alone".

I arrived at Waterfront Park with plenty of time to check my things and try to keep myself warm while huddled together with the 7500 other runners. The starting temperature today was 34 but with all my endorphins rushing at full force I didn't notice the cold much. I decided my usual workout mix was not going to cut it today and opted instead to give the Black Eyed Peas a try. Under normal circumstances I am not at all a fan, but I had heard their latest album was great motivation so I bought it a few weeks ago when it was on sale on iTunes (and hadn't listened to it yet). And I will tell you what, it was worth every penny. Every song was like a mini anthem pushing me to run just that little bit faster, urging me to pass that lady in front of me, telling me this could be my personal best.

Unfortunately, I forgot my watch at home in my hurried haze to get to the park early so I am not entirely sure of my finishing time yet. They will be posted this evening and you can be assured that I will be logged into the website at 8:59, ready and waiting for the clock to strike 9. My estimate is somewhere around 28 minutes. The fastest I have done on the treadmill is 28:30, so I crossed the finish line feeling pretty amped and wishing I had signed up for the 8k because I'm sure I could have run the extra few miles with ease.

I'm hooked now. It didn't take much. I'm running the Run for the Roses 5k next month and I secretly signed up for the Foot Traffic Flat half marathon today. Shhhhhhhh. Now it's time to get serious.