Uncategorized

Beaming for Shawn

Nastia Liukin, Dana Torres, and of course, Michael Phelps — just a few of the incredible American Olympians with awe-inspiring stories. But as moving and amazing as their paths to Olympic medals might be, the one that has touched my heart most has to be that of Shawn Johnson.

Though I’m no where near being any sort of Olympian, and anyone who knows me personally knows I am anything but graceful — my sister got my share of those genes — there’s just something about Shawn’s silver “rut” that I could identify with. Throughout grade school and high school, I managed one second place finish after another, from PTA Cultural Arts contests to being chosen as an “alternate” for Governor’s School to my graduation as salutatorian. And even as my “little” sister made her own way through school, I came to feel that really, she was better than I as well, in terms of the “importance” of her degree and the degree of her faith, among other things.

Don’t misunderstand, I was proud of my red ribbons (this was a public school system — there were no silver medals to be won). And I did manage to win a blue ribbon here and there. But to me, where it really counted, it felt that I would never be better than second best. I can’t tell you how hard I cried when I wasn’t chosen for Governor’s School. As sad as it is, it still makes me sick to my stomach. Likewise, in college I felt like I “copped out” by changing my degree from a BFA to a BA, backing out of so many art classes. Though I blamed my decision on a professor, I realize now that the problem was really me — whether it was a fear of failure or a simple lack of ambition.

So, enough self-psychoanalysis and back to Shawn Johnson. It seems I could have and still can learn a lot from her. All I’ve read about her has mentioned just how sunny and positive she has been, even in the wake of falling short of a goal. Where my “not quite first place” finishes have jaded me and eaten away my ambition, Shawn has continued to cheer on teammates while savoring her silver and setting her sights on gold for “next time.” I truly believe that it was that attitude that led her to “finally” earn her elusive gold on the balance beam today.

This morning, my 4-year-old informed me he was going to be a mail carrier when he grows up. He then asked me, “Mommy, what are you going to be when you grow up?”

It’s a valid question. Especially since I still haven’t decided. At this point in my life, I feel like I’m ready to climb a mountain (metaphorically, of course). The problem is that I don’t know which one.

But while I continue my soul searching and prayers to help me find my path, I will keep “Make it Mine” as my morning alarm ringtone, and I’ll take a tip from Shawn Johnson (and Norman Vincent Peale) and practice a bit more positive thinking.

(Photo from Getty Images)

Uncategorized

Why I Am Not Watching The Olympics by Bryan Kemper

Yesterday the commentary below landed in my inbox as part of a newsletter to which I subscribe. Because it so clearly articulated how I personally feel, I am re-posting it with permission from the author….

Why I Am Not Watching The Olympics

I want to first make this very clear: I am not calling for a boycott or protest. I am not telling you that you are wrong if you decide to watch the Olympics. I simply want to express why I cannot sit down and enjoy the Olympics this year.

While many countries allow abortion, China takes it a step further with forced abortion. China has a one child policy and forces women who get pregnant again to have abortions. It really amazes me that the “so called” pro-choice movement does not speak up against this. Wouldn’t a forced abortion be going against the idea of choice?

China is also a staunch supporter of Sudan’s government who are committing mass genocide in Darfur. Hundreds of thousands of people have been slaughtered in Darfur and millions have been displaced. Sudan’s government is killing, raping and torturing black Africans in Darfur and China is helping them by supplying weapons.

With issues like forced abortion, the support of Sudan’s government, the atrocities in Tibet and so much more it saddens me to see China looked at in such a great light during the Olympics. I know that there are many other countries including our own who are guilty of human rights violations. I know that China is not the only country to disregard human life, but they are one of the worst.

I tried to sit down, give the Olympics a chance and watch the opening ceremonies. NBC showed a few minutes of footage about why people are angry about the Olympics being in China before they went into the celebration of the opening ceremonies. As I sat there my heart saddened as I thought about what was more important for me. I could not help but think about all the people who were displaced in Beijing for Olympic facilities to be built. I thought about the billions of dollars spent for things like swimming pools and race tracks as so many people in china are starving and suffering. I thought about every second child conceived in China and the pain his or her mother went through as they were forced to kill their child simply for not being the first born.

As much as I like watching the Olympics, was this worth it? Is seeing someone jump higher that someone else more important than taking a stand? For me it’s not worth it. I have decided that I will not watch the Olympics this year. I know my not watching them will not change what is going on right now. I made this decision as a matter of principle for myself and to stand in solidarity with those who are suffering. I have decided to take some of the time I would spend watching the Olympics and use that to research more ways I can be a voice for those who have none.

I want to reemphasize that I’m not telling you not to watch the Olympics or asking you to boycott them. I am simply asking you to think about some of these issues and look into how you might be a voice also.

For Christ I stand,

Bryan Kemper

Uncategorized

the feeling that I’m feeling is overwhelming…

Eight days ago I pulled an all-nighter in a desperate attempt to wrap volume 2, issue 1 of Shakespeare’s Monkey Revue in time to get copies up here in time for the intended release party. I managed, but in the fog of sleep deprivation.

In the days that followed, I pushed to get confirmed RSVPs for the Makepeace Brothers backyard concert that I had planned for last night.

Two days ago I shot off an overwhelmed email off to the guys to relay the sad condition of the “confirmed” list. I knew there was no way we could make it work as originally planned. Fortunately, the band reassured me that it’d work out.

And it did.

Though not quite what any of us had planned, the concert last night was excellent and SO much fun. Because of the threat of rain, we moved inside; turned out we could have stayed outside — the rain hit hard all around us, but none hit our house. Still, inside worked out well, though it was hot. More than half of the guests were people I had never met before, which was cool, but disappointing that more of my friends couldn’t make it. Overall, any “issues” (including my social awkwardness and naivete) were few and surmountable. For me, it was definitely worth the stress, exhaustion and general sense of being overwhelmed beforehand. I would be happy to do it again.

The Makepeace Brothers LRC 8/7/08

And yet…

Even with “Lovely” and “Things Gonna Wait” still playing in my head, I still — or rather, again — feel overwhelmed. This time with poison, with anger, with the question of a cliche: why do we hurt the ones we love?

Despite the fair number of people who attended (including a handful who went out of their reasonable way to come), several others who said they would try to did not show. And one person who gave a definite “yes” did not follow through. That person is like family; maybe that’s why I was so easily blown off. Regardless, it hurt. And though I know I should drop it and move on, I am not ready to let go of this anger. I would not and have not ever done this to this person. But this is not the first time I have been disappointed by this “best friend.” So I’m wondering why I keep putting myself in the vulnerable position where I allow this to happen again and again. All I can come up with is that I love this person with whom I have shared some of my happiest moments. I guess the joy is worth the hurt.

Still, my expectations remain (apparently) high, though part of me is resigned to the expectation of disappointment. I have learned I cannot count on this person — unless it’s a life or death situation. I have learned expect to be the last to know and to expect her to be the last to show. I don’t expect my calls to be returned, not the first or fifth.

But I believe in soulmates, and that we may have more than one. I believe she is one of mine.

One thing I don’t know is if she feels the same about that.

Regardless, to quote Jason out of context, “the way it unfolds is yet to be told.”

I’m searching for peace in this…

Uncategorized

Ethos Organic Boiled Peanuts

Ok, so I feel like my last post was a cop-out. Really I just wanted to post the link to the bag thing. Sorry about that.

The past couple weeks I’ve been slammed, both at work & at home. We’ve been trying to wrap the August issue of Shakespeare’s Monkey Revue by TOMORROW so that I can have copies in hand for the release party/back yard concert I’m holding on the 7th.

I’m feeling doubtful that it’s going to happen. Again, I feel like I’m doing more than my share of pushing to wrap this. I know a lot of our staff has had a lot of crap to deal with lately, but for Pete’s sake, would it kill a person to drop an occasional email, even if it’s to just say “no” or “ain’t gonna happen” outright?!?

Stephan, if you’re reading this, let me know who you have to take over layout next issue. The only thing I want to do with the next one is the cover. (I’m working on getting someone else to do the internal art.)

So that’s been stressing me out a bit.

Then there’s the concert. Yeah. I must have been nuts when I decided to do that. That’s stressing me out a bit as well. Not the actual hosting, mind you. I really don’t care what people think about our place, so I’m not stressing over cleaning or home improvements, etc. (though the plan IS to finally have the deck stained before people get here). What’s stressing me about the concert is the fact that I haven’t gotten a single confirmed “Yes.” And I was hoping for about 50. AGHHHH!

That stuff aside, our littler munchkin officially turned two over the weekend. Fortunately, at two he doesn’t expect much: cupcakes with sprinkles in Bob the Builder liners were exciting enough, and his favorite gift came from a yard sale.

No wonder I’ve been having weird dreams.

Take last night for instance. Let’s start with the fact that I went to bed later than I probably should have, coupled with the fact that I actually did some reading before I tried to go to sleep. I finally turned off my light to crash, but my dear husband was snoring up a storm. Eventually he shifted and I drifted off to sleep.

I don’t remember what the dream was about, but I do remember a business card and the man it belonged to. It was weird. In the dream, I met this guy and we were both like, “Don’t I know you? You look SO familiar!” Then we figured out that we had gone to the same college and had met at registration. He looked kinda like a young Bob Marley, but wore a cool Hawaiian type shirt in light blue cotton. His name was Jamie. And he was a part-time student, full-time business owner. His business: “Ethos Organic Boiled Peanuts,” which he sold here in South Carolina.

The dream and that “don’t I know you?” factor felt so real that I want to track down this mysterious man with the chocolate skin and demeanor just as sweet to tell everyone in the market for boiled peanuts to buy from him.

Weird, huh?

A few years ago, I had another similar dream experience. That time I woke up with a specific name in my head, a full name that I immediately looked up when I woke. The search turned up a veteran who died in the Gulf Conflict. It was eerie.

Anyhow, yeah.

Uncategorized

Let’s do something drastic about plastic!

More and more I am becoming ultra-conscious of how much plastic I use and how much of it ends up in our trash can. At the “regular” grocery store, I’ve become more willing to stop by the deli counter where my fresh cheese & lunch meat is packaged in less plastic than the “convenience” pre-packaged goods in the refrigerator case. When the bagger asks if I want my milk in a bag, I’ll daringly say “no” — I’ll put it in my own reused bag in the car. When I have my act together (or am going to Aldi’s), I take my own bags to the grocery store.

I try not to throw plastic bags away. (The only time I do is if it’s been reused to dispose of kitty litter.) Still, I know I get more from the grocery store than I need, and at least once a month a wad of them hits the recycling bin.

I’ve decided I need to change that. Even recycling the flimsy plastic bags isn’t enough, though it helps. And there has to be a better way to take care of the cats than adding plastic to landfills. (I’m thinking this may be the best option.)

If you’re still using plastic grocery bags but think it’s no big deal, consider this.

Besides, a cute tote can be the best compliment to your “out-shopping ensemble.”