Let me start by stating that I'm by no means an expert on the subject of kayaking. However, I've had a couple of negative experiences on rivers prior to this. One of them being on the Delaware Water Gap involving a Canoe that tipped and caused a hell of a debacle that ended in physical injuries, a tow trip from PA to NJ on Memorial Day weekend and a breakup. Need I say more? I've also done floating down the river, but there isn't any real work involved in that activity. You just tie some tubes together and float down the river while drinking some beer from the cooler that's tied next to you. I don't want to admit that I was naive enough to think that kayaking wouldn't be a lot of work, but when all was said and done I definitely considered myself upgraded from 'wuss' to 'warrior' status. The man that owns this place was a little chatty over the phone when I was booking my spot for this trip, but I figured he was just trying to be thorough. He asked that we arrive 30 minutes before our 9am take-off. By the time we arrived, there was a young dude cleaning off the kayaks we'd be using for our adventure so it was cool to be able to check out where our behinds would be parked for the 2 and a half hour paddle. Then, the owner came out and proceeded to bore the crap out of my and my two friends with endless banter about how we should be careful to avoid 'branches' in the river, and how we'll see these 'large metal structures' and we need to avoid them too (thanks, for that, but I think it's pretty intuitive to avoid things that are visibly jutting out of the water. We then watched a 20 minute video on everything he pretty much just spent 20 min. telling us. He even made us watch the parts on canoeing and white water rafting (why? I don't know). To top that off, he brought up his Google Map presentation and showed us where we'd be most likely to encounter these super threatening tree branches and metal structures. Ok, fine. We're ready now. We take off in the van and drive past all of the private land owned by several Indian tribes. The spot for take off was in the middle of nowhere and by that time (already past 9:30), we were ready to go! But WAIT, there's more.
The dude then proceeded to draw some diagrams in the dirt with the corner of the oar explaining how not to directly hit the branch or/and the metal structure. Finally, we take off and we're on our way out onto the waters of the Rio Grande. Or lack thereof. What I mean is that NM has been in a drought as of late so instead of floating a little with the current and then paddling we were forced to paddle furiously the whole way if we didn't want to move at 3 miles per hour. This was fine...at first.
I wound up drifting one way and my friends drifted another. As I was going through this marsh, I could hear my friend yell that they'd meet me on the other side of the little island. Great, I thought, that shouldn't be far! Instead, it was about 30-40 minutes of hell because I wound up stuck in spots with no water and the boat was way too heavy to carry anywhere. This means that I had to use all of my energy to push myself back to any spot where the water was higher than my ankle (which was hard to find).
By the time I floated out to the other side, my friends were parked and waiting for me on some rocks and I must say, I was never happier to see them. We still had about another hour of paddling to do and we started to wonder where and when we'd see the people form the Paddling place to pick us up...
After another hour of paddling, we realized we must have missed the take out point and were pretty much screwed. My friend called the owner who told her that we 'should have never went that far! Didn't we see the take-off point that was so not clearly marked?? NOPE. DO YOU REALLY THINK WE'D BE CALLING YOU FROM YOUR DAMN KAYAK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RIO IF WE DID?? Then he says that he's not sure if he'd be able to send anyone to pick us up. This part really infuriated me because the last thing you want to worry about after this kind of trip was finding a place to park your kayak and not having a ride out of there. He told us to continue swimming until we saw the Alameda bridge, he'd try to get someone out there by the time we made it there, which would be a while since it was miles and
miles away. Really, there was no bridge in sight. This is the point of the story where I want to stress that if this guy had talked MORE about where and when we'd be picked up, and less about the branches we may or may not see in the river, we probably wouldn't have gotten lost and it would have been a perfect trip.
Instead, we wound up paddling 21 miles and cried when we realized we had no freakin idea where the bridge even was. When we finally did make it and dragged our heavy ass canoes up the dirt trail, two dude came about 10 minutes later to pick us up. They told us that this had 'happened before' and that the owner needs to stress where the take off point is. Yes, that would have been nice. He then told us they charge people double to do the trip that we just took so we actually made out like bandits! Go figure. I told him that I actually would have paid them double if they'd only been there to pick us up when they were supposed to.
This was definitely an adventure, one that I most likely won't be taking again in the near future, or until I regain feeling in my arms again. Honestly, when I do this again, I will gladly pay to rent a kayak for the $40 this 'trip' cost me. It would be easier because I wouldn't have to endure the sound of the owner rudely chatting away about things that aren't of importance for my trip. The best part about the whole experience was getting to share it with two kick ass women that paddled their asses off just like I did on a beautiful day with serene surroundings and beautiful Mother Nature providing all the kick ass scenery.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
You stole MY car and all you left me was this stinkin Dixie Chicks CD?!
Ok, so I suck at blogging on a regular basis. Let me catch you up. Since my last blog, my car was stolen, along with a music collection that I've been compiling for over 10 years. At first, I didn't know which one I was more upset over having been stolen. Then, I gave it some thought and came to the harsh realization that my love for music is challenged only by the stubs that God gave me for legs. Add in the factor that NM has no real public transportation, and the lack of money I had to replace the car I saved for 3 months to get, and you can assume which item was going to afffect my well being more.
Anyhoo, I know what you're thinking..."Why would she leave her music collection in the car!" Well, I don't have a good answer for that other than I didn't exactly plan on getting my car jacked that day. But not to fret, this dirty criminal left me one CD I found flung in the back-seat.
But I digress. When I walked outside, I had the initial instinct that I must have parked my car in a different area,. I would assume that most people think this when their car gets stolen. Then, the moment was gone and I realized quickly that someone had appreciated Hunter's beauty, my 98' Honda Civic the way that I do, except they didn't just buy it like I did one month prior.
I called the cops, whom immediately scolded me for calling 911. That's right, apparently, in the state of New Mexico, you should ONLY dial 911 when their is a murder being committed, witnessed, or you see someone drunk driving. If I'd had been in better spirits, I probably would have alerted them to the fact that I felt capable of murder at that very moment. In speaking with the police, they asked me if instead of sending an officer over, could I fill out a report on-line? No. Not only no, but Hell no, I replied.
Apparently, the response of the cops in NJ spoiled me into thinking that's how every state handled things. WRONG. How do you know when a state is poor? The schools suck (they DO) and there is no police presence (unless you're drunk driving and Erik Estrada is whizzing by on his motorcycle during the 100 days of Summer). I no longer wonder why locals refer to this place as "The Wild West".
Ok, so about 2 hours later, an officer shows up, ignorant to my panic and tears, assuring me that my car was probably halfway to Mexico by now. So I go to work, sullen and defeated. Telling my co-workers the crippling news of my car theft through muffled sobs (of COURSE I'm still dramatic, I am from NJ).
And you want to know what happens then? My work phone rings, not even an hour after i get to work telling me that they found my car, it's running and in the mountains about 30 minutes from where I am. At first, I thought they MUST be mistaken. But no, this operator had just the right amount of nastiness in her tone when I expressed bewilderment, that I knew she was telling the truth. She informed me that I had 15-30 min. max to come pick up my car or it would be towed and I'd have to pay $300 to get it out of the impound. How ironic that they expect you to rush to pick up your car when it's found after being stolen, especially since you have no car to get there.
Needless to say, I got a ride out there, and there was my baby. Bruised but not battered. Hunter was so happy to see me, and me her, that we embraced as soon as I saw her sitting there, at the bottom of some trail in the middle of nowhere. Turns out, the idiot criminal just needed to get across town and used poor, defenseless, Hunter as the vessel.
The two deputies from this ho-hum town I'd never heard of explained that this kind of thing "happens all the time". I inquired as to the status of the manhunt I was sure was launched to find the person who stole my car, only to find out that there would be none. I was told to "count my lucky stars" that the thief had left it abandoned and running, which appeared odd to a hiker who called the "cops".
So what did the thief leave me as a token of apology you ask? Out of over 100 CD's, I found the good Ole' Dixie Chicks alive and well shining like a jewel as the only thing left in my car. Someone, please remind the Universe to bestow gratitude to the car jacker in NM who left me the crappiest CD in my collection as a reminder that he or she's not ALL bad. It's fine now, I have my car and sleep like a baby. Why? Well, I went out and bought the poor man's alarm system, the CLUB. That's right, back off when you see the yellow sign promising "theft protection", and all for $15.99!
If only I'd known that I was going to be robbed, I would have done three things different. One, I would never have called my mother after calling the cops. The first thing she said to me was "Why didn't you have the Club on it?" Which, of course made me even angrier, mostly at myself, because I'm 28 and STILL learning things the hard way. But also, at my Mother, who NEVER misses a chance to state the obvious. Second, I would have never stole that bottle of Fire & Ice from Rockbottom when I was 12 (karma is a Bitch)! And lastly, I would have definitely gotten that bum drivers side window fixed so that someone who needed a ride across town couldn't have just slipped their arm in and opened Hunter's lock. Lesson's learned. Car's returned.
Of course, I can no longer listen to the Dixie Chicks, understandably so.
.
Anyhoo, I know what you're thinking..."Why would she leave her music collection in the car!" Well, I don't have a good answer for that other than I didn't exactly plan on getting my car jacked that day. But not to fret, this dirty criminal left me one CD I found flung in the back-seat.
But I digress. When I walked outside, I had the initial instinct that I must have parked my car in a different area,. I would assume that most people think this when their car gets stolen. Then, the moment was gone and I realized quickly that someone had appreciated Hunter's beauty, my 98' Honda Civic the way that I do, except they didn't just buy it like I did one month prior.
I called the cops, whom immediately scolded me for calling 911. That's right, apparently, in the state of New Mexico, you should ONLY dial 911 when their is a murder being committed, witnessed, or you see someone drunk driving. If I'd had been in better spirits, I probably would have alerted them to the fact that I felt capable of murder at that very moment. In speaking with the police, they asked me if instead of sending an officer over, could I fill out a report on-line? No. Not only no, but Hell no, I replied.
Apparently, the response of the cops in NJ spoiled me into thinking that's how every state handled things. WRONG. How do you know when a state is poor? The schools suck (they DO) and there is no police presence (unless you're drunk driving and Erik Estrada is whizzing by on his motorcycle during the 100 days of Summer). I no longer wonder why locals refer to this place as "The Wild West".
Ok, so about 2 hours later, an officer shows up, ignorant to my panic and tears, assuring me that my car was probably halfway to Mexico by now. So I go to work, sullen and defeated. Telling my co-workers the crippling news of my car theft through muffled sobs (of COURSE I'm still dramatic, I am from NJ).
And you want to know what happens then? My work phone rings, not even an hour after i get to work telling me that they found my car, it's running and in the mountains about 30 minutes from where I am. At first, I thought they MUST be mistaken. But no, this operator had just the right amount of nastiness in her tone when I expressed bewilderment, that I knew she was telling the truth. She informed me that I had 15-30 min. max to come pick up my car or it would be towed and I'd have to pay $300 to get it out of the impound. How ironic that they expect you to rush to pick up your car when it's found after being stolen, especially since you have no car to get there.
Needless to say, I got a ride out there, and there was my baby. Bruised but not battered. Hunter was so happy to see me, and me her, that we embraced as soon as I saw her sitting there, at the bottom of some trail in the middle of nowhere. Turns out, the idiot criminal just needed to get across town and used poor, defenseless, Hunter as the vessel.
The two deputies from this ho-hum town I'd never heard of explained that this kind of thing "happens all the time". I inquired as to the status of the manhunt I was sure was launched to find the person who stole my car, only to find out that there would be none. I was told to "count my lucky stars" that the thief had left it abandoned and running, which appeared odd to a hiker who called the "cops".
So what did the thief leave me as a token of apology you ask? Out of over 100 CD's, I found the good Ole' Dixie Chicks alive and well shining like a jewel as the only thing left in my car. Someone, please remind the Universe to bestow gratitude to the car jacker in NM who left me the crappiest CD in my collection as a reminder that he or she's not ALL bad. It's fine now, I have my car and sleep like a baby. Why? Well, I went out and bought the poor man's alarm system, the CLUB. That's right, back off when you see the yellow sign promising "theft protection", and all for $15.99!
If only I'd known that I was going to be robbed, I would have done three things different. One, I would never have called my mother after calling the cops. The first thing she said to me was "Why didn't you have the Club on it?" Which, of course made me even angrier, mostly at myself, because I'm 28 and STILL learning things the hard way. But also, at my Mother, who NEVER misses a chance to state the obvious. Second, I would have never stole that bottle of Fire & Ice from Rockbottom when I was 12 (karma is a Bitch)! And lastly, I would have definitely gotten that bum drivers side window fixed so that someone who needed a ride across town couldn't have just slipped their arm in and opened Hunter's lock. Lesson's learned. Car's returned.
Of course, I can no longer listen to the Dixie Chicks, understandably so.
.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Things change...time passes....yet people remain the same.
Ask any obnoxious American if they would help a little old lady across the street, majority would say "absolutely".
Ask the average person if they would rescue another human being from death if they had the chance and most would agree it's the "right thing to do."
However, when these same "quality" people are asked to obey orders, they will kill their fellow man 90% of the time.
What's wrong with this picture? Quite a bit if you ask me.
In July of 1961, University Psychologist Stanley Milgram decided to see how far people's conscious would allow them to go if they were asked to obey an authority figure.
The "Teacher" role was actually the participant in the experiment while the "Student" role was played by a person involved in the experiment. The teacher and student were told that the student would be answering questions, and for every wrong answer the student gave, the teacher was to administer a powerful electric shock to the student.
The pair where then separated so they could not see each other. The teacher, or the subject of the experiment was told that it was an actual powerful electric shock. Of course, the shock was not real, but even when the students would yelp from pain heard through the glass by the person administering the shocks, they continued.
Even when there were indications of death. The results showed that 65% (26 out of 40) of participants doled out the major 450 watt volt, even though they knew it was deadly.
Fast forward to 2010, almost 50 years later. The French attempts to try this again. This time televised. The results: The documentary, called "The Game of Death," aired Wednesday night on French television. While people were told they were on a reality television show and hostesses cheered the participants on while the audience were chanting in unison: "Punishment". 64 people out of 80 administered the lethal 460 volt shock.
In my opinion, these experiments only prove that we still, and always have been, a corrupt society. The villainous media is the conduit so that evil can be spread at an alarmingly fast rate. Reaching our youth and corrupting our minds, we allow it and most of the time subconsciously welcome it. I think it's truly sad, and a great testament to the fact that while technology has progressed, humanity has not.
As for the average persons personal conscience, I truly believe that for the majority of people, if there is someone else to blame for their own bad behavior, they use it as an excuse to continue doing it. Unfortunately for us an attack of the conscience is something that rarely prevents people from doing awful things to one another.
The headline for the article about the French show was: "French People Will Kill For Fame". However, it is not just the French, it's the entire worlds population. The only thing that has changed is the kind of carrot they're dangling in front of people to enforce behavior that is so hideous and outrageous, I had to rant about it in this blog. Another reason for this blurb is that when I mentioned this to people I work with the general consensus was "I'm so not surprised". People will do anything for money and fame. Well, just because that may be true, still doesn't make it right.
Epic Fail.
Ask the average person if they would rescue another human being from death if they had the chance and most would agree it's the "right thing to do."
However, when these same "quality" people are asked to obey orders, they will kill their fellow man 90% of the time.
What's wrong with this picture? Quite a bit if you ask me.
In July of 1961, University Psychologist Stanley Milgram decided to see how far people's conscious would allow them to go if they were asked to obey an authority figure.
The "Teacher" role was actually the participant in the experiment while the "Student" role was played by a person involved in the experiment. The teacher and student were told that the student would be answering questions, and for every wrong answer the student gave, the teacher was to administer a powerful electric shock to the student.
The pair where then separated so they could not see each other. The teacher, or the subject of the experiment was told that it was an actual powerful electric shock. Of course, the shock was not real, but even when the students would yelp from pain heard through the glass by the person administering the shocks, they continued.
Even when there were indications of death. The results showed that 65% (26 out of 40) of participants doled out the major 450 watt volt, even though they knew it was deadly.
Fast forward to 2010, almost 50 years later. The French attempts to try this again. This time televised. The results: The documentary, called "The Game of Death," aired Wednesday night on French television. While people were told they were on a reality television show and hostesses cheered the participants on while the audience were chanting in unison: "Punishment". 64 people out of 80 administered the lethal 460 volt shock.
In my opinion, these experiments only prove that we still, and always have been, a corrupt society. The villainous media is the conduit so that evil can be spread at an alarmingly fast rate. Reaching our youth and corrupting our minds, we allow it and most of the time subconsciously welcome it. I think it's truly sad, and a great testament to the fact that while technology has progressed, humanity has not.
As for the average persons personal conscience, I truly believe that for the majority of people, if there is someone else to blame for their own bad behavior, they use it as an excuse to continue doing it. Unfortunately for us an attack of the conscience is something that rarely prevents people from doing awful things to one another.
The headline for the article about the French show was: "French People Will Kill For Fame". However, it is not just the French, it's the entire worlds population. The only thing that has changed is the kind of carrot they're dangling in front of people to enforce behavior that is so hideous and outrageous, I had to rant about it in this blog. Another reason for this blurb is that when I mentioned this to people I work with the general consensus was "I'm so not surprised". People will do anything for money and fame. Well, just because that may be true, still doesn't make it right.
Epic Fail.
Friday, February 19, 2010
What I Gave Up for Lent
Someone recently asked me what I gave up for Lent. I replied "I'm not a Catholic". So the person pressed me again and asked why I still didn't feel the need to give anything up since Jesus gave up so much for all of us. I thought about this long and hard before I gave my standard answer when anyone asks me why I'm not religious: "I think it's hypocritical to give up something for 40 days just because some religion preaches that it should be so."
Later, I actually gave some thought as to why I feel the Catholic religion in particular is hypocrisy personified. I wasn't baptized when I was a baby. When I would tell people this growing up you would have thought that by their reaction I told them I have heinously defaced the grave of Jesus himself! They would say "you know, you're gonna burn in Hell if you die without doing it!" Aside from that being BULLSHIT, it is incredibly malicious coming from a God fearing Catholic who obviously doesn't think it's a sin to tell someone that they're going to Hell. I can assure you that I didn't fear these people but rather they acted as deterrents for me to join their "crew".
I don't believe that you have to be religious to be Spiritual. It has taken me many years and heated debates with people that have extensive organized religious facts and informed opinions, but I really do think that as long as one believes in a being higher than themselves, and then that same person practices this belief, mediates on this belief and then tries to be the best person that they can be, they're not going to Hell. These people that spend all this time giving up chocolate, not eating meat on Friday's, I have to say "good for you." Self sacrifice is healthy food for the soul. I also think that if, and hopefully when, I am standing next to the person that gave up cursing for 40 days on the line to get into heaven I move ahead of them because of the quality of life that I lived. So that I can say "I told you so" and stick my tongue out at them as the angels come and tap me ahead. Of course, I wouldn't stick my tongue out because at that point, I would try to show off my "grace and respect for all that is holy" and because I don't want to go back to that spot in line. My point is that I don't think that choosing to practice in organized religion opposed to dedicating your heart to the Spirituality you've came across on your own, in your heart, makes any difference or proves to be any better than.
I sat in those Catholic services as a child and watched the basket go around. I watched people drop money in there hoping God would forget about their drinking problem. The Catholic's pride themselves on charity yet if the Vatican sold one painting hanging in their fortress we would be able to end the starvation problem in at least one third world Country. I 'm not saying that any one religion is better than any other. All I'm trying to get across is that morality and ethics are completely separate from organized religion. When a person tries to combine the two they can get very confused like I have so many times when trying to choose the religion that was calling my name.
I'm still not baptized. I don't know if I ever will be. If and when that ever happens it will be because I feel a calling from a Higher power telling me to go to church. Honestly though, I think that power can speak to me anytime it wants, because one doesn't have to be in church to hear it.
So for lent this year I have chosen to give up my truth about why I don't need an occasion to forego my vices. If my spirit is meant to go without, I will do it because I think it's right. I don't think Jesus is keeping score on these things. But hey, if you see me in the "other" line, now you'll know why (but that could mean you'll be there too, so don't be so quick to judge ;)
Friday, January 8, 2010
And here I am
Somehow 6 weeks turned in to over 2 years since I've been residing here in New Mexico.
While I'm still searching for Truth and praying for direction, many things have become clear to me and I have been blessed several times with priceless revelations. I do have to say, I still miss the East Coast. I adore the craziness of it's genuine people, and the beauty of the architecture, and the fact that people are always rushing to get where they have to go next. As opposed to this ubiquitous mountain land of the Indians where the New Mexican population continues to live by the mantra "the Land of Manana".
I don't believe I'll ever grow accustomed to that lazy mentality, but I have enjoyed the beauty of simplicity and the appreciation and respect I've mustered for a place where materialism is almost nonexistent. The less you have, the more you have attitude is not subscribed to by the majority of people that live on the East Coast, at least not the people I grew up with.
When I first moved here, I cohabited with the natives here, but I did not want to stop being a "Jersey Girl". Initially, I just wanted to "go home" where people were "normal". However, a good friend* at the time suggested that I start making friends and trying to form a life out here for myself. After months of trepidation, mild-depression, and a severe case of the lonelies, I took his advice.
I made a friend who showed me some of the culture and landscape while embracing my inner "craziness" and respecting the East Coast mentality of pride that was haulting my soul from truy awakening for ever so long (as long as I let it).
After a few nights of beers around the fire pit and getting the chance to get to know some pretty cool people who, contrary to my original impression, were actually living happy, productive lives all while appearing well rounded, well rested people.
When I say well rested, I mean it was as if all of the people from the Tri-State area popped a xanex, sipped a beer and decided to let people take their parking space at the mall all while remaining calm about the entire situation. This awakening of my consciousness implied that there could be another way of living, further it promised the possibility that one day maybe I could also join these happy people, without having to be medicated, and while still holding on to all the pride I had in my heritage and background.
My accent was so thick when I moved here that my "Fran Drescher" origins were unmistakable. I never actually realized I had wore that accent like a badge of honor for so long, until I began to hear the way people talked here. They say "I-talian Submarines", and call cars "Ve-hee-cles. Also, instead of a DMV, like the rest of the world, they offer MVD services. The most prevalent phrase you'll hear at any food establishment, (even Micky D's) is "red or green"? It took me months to realize that New Mexico chile's were different than the chili I had know all my life, packed safely in a can by good old "Hormel". The only question there is "with or without beans".
After the first year, I started to feel the effects of a universal shift of sorts. My world, as I'd always known it was changing, and I was accepting it, welcoming it, even beckoning it. For the first time in my life, rather than trying to run in reverse from the world I was in, I ran towards it.
I can say now that I'm so glad I did. What I've learned in life lessons has been priceless.
It's amazing how much an alternate environment can nurture and nourish the wandering soul. Let me add that without ever really leaving your hometown, I don't think you will be able to grow the way we are all meant to. It's comparable to being in an abusive relationship, everyone else can see it, and see that you need to change things, except for you. Then one day, you break the chains of torture you've forced yourself to carry around and after some time, you begin to see what everyone else could see the whole time. Then it happens: you grow, on an emotional, and spiritual level in a very permanent way that forces one to be able to revise any and all prior misinformed notions about what life "should" be and instead, make the necessary life alterations so that your experiences can be tailored to whatever you it is you need. Thereby, achieving true revoltionary growth on the human level. You'll still have the same thoughts passing through, you just can't make the same decisions as before. Which I've learned is a blessing, in many forms.
I believe: True change happens when you move forward and face the fear that's been holding you back, even when it's painful; especially when it's painful.
I know: That I've become a more spiritual soul while shedding the pain and asking for help from a power higher than my being.
I have also been granted this help, the key is being ready and able to accept it.
I love: every person who encouraged me to flourish from the caterpillar I was in Jersey to the butterfly I've been morphing into while here in the desert.
I'm sure: that love doesn't care how many miles there are between, it's energy is limitless and envelops me in the warmth I've come to know as my "security blanket and foundation".
I am: a very lucky and blessed person. I used to think I was cursed, but after surviving failure, enduring heartache and persevering on my soul's journey, I realized that my bravery had rewarded me with more than I had ever bargained for.
You can bet I won't be eating any red chile any time soon. I assure you, I get nostalgic just thinking about the pizza and the cheap, delicious Chinese food.
Who knows where the road will take me,? But I know now that I have the strength to travel it.
Trust in knowing that I will always be a "Jersey Girl" at heart, but I must say that for now I am in a New Mexico state of mind, and I am thankful.
*(thank you Joey, I don't think I would have made it through the first year here without your support and phone calls on an almost daily basis)
Friday, January 30, 2009
Oldie but goodie
I just read this blog again after I posted it about 8 years ago. Now, I can laugh at it. Ha. Ha.
Let me just take a moment to tell you that just when you think that life cannot be anymore fucked up than it already is you get on the BUS and you find out that life is like a sick twisted joke that is played on you as soon as you wave your arm out (in the 120 degree heat) to catch it. First, you really should know that something is wrong because of the poisonous fumes that you can't help but inhale as the bus pulls over. The fumes should be the first hint that it's gonna be a fucked up ride. Then as you step on (literally, the first step) the bus driver is in such a rush that he pulls off at high speed cutting off all of those people trying to get around it (but fuck them because they're in their car). While the bus driver pulls off you must try to manuver a way to maintain balance (virtually impossible) and pay the fare. Ok so then you take one look at the gritty, smelly, most of the time non-english speaking bus driver and you put your money in to enter the twilight zone. You really can tell as soon as you see the first face that you've entered another dimension, one where people talk to themselves, and don't believe that personal hygiene is necessary, and the best part is, they want to sit right next to ME! On top of this, the air conditioning system is not on (I think this is done purposefully to add to the total experience of the BUS) and the smell of rancid un-clean people is in the air. So I try to sit down and open a book only to realize that I really should look ahead of me because these people may try to lure me into their tribe if I'm in la-la crazy Chuck Palahuniak land. SO the crazy lady that has just got on (let's not forget that we stop every 5 seconds so that your ride on the BUS can be as LONG as possible) and she swears that the bus has hit her elbow so she has to go to the ER and she thinks the bus company should pay. The bus driver seems amused/used to it/ disturbed, and laughs. She starts screamin to the other crazy passengers that we all saw it happend and we are witnesses (i get this funny image of us all hanging out in a courtroom together to trancribe the happenings of the elbow bash for the crazy lady and all of them leaving in white jackets) So now she starts talking to, can you guess?ME! I try to ignore her for as long as possible until I change my seat and sit beside a 105 year old lady that tells me her ailments while I wait for Rod Serling to walk in at any moment and tell me that I have a free pass to leave the TZ at any time. Doesn't happen. Now the kid in the back of the bus is egging the crazy lady on in the front of the bus and says he seen her elbow get hit. HA HA, everyone finds the banter amusing except me because the lady just pissed her pants and now the urine smell is added to the other stenches on the bus. GREAT! The crazy lady is then kicked off the bus by the driver who reminds her that it's not the first time she has done this (SURPRISE< SURPRISE) and she must go. She does,while screaming: "MY ELBOW" in the distance. OK I know that my stop is comin(After a ride that should take 5 minutes turns into a half-hour) and I push the button only to be let off at the stop a block and a half a way from my destination. I scream back door and... nothing, I yell again while they all stare at me with those eyes that silently tell you to run while u still can before you become a permanant member. I finally get out and realize that I HAVE TO GET A CAR!
Let me just take a moment to tell you that just when you think that life cannot be anymore fucked up than it already is you get on the BUS and you find out that life is like a sick twisted joke that is played on you as soon as you wave your arm out (in the 120 degree heat) to catch it. First, you really should know that something is wrong because of the poisonous fumes that you can't help but inhale as the bus pulls over. The fumes should be the first hint that it's gonna be a fucked up ride. Then as you step on (literally, the first step) the bus driver is in such a rush that he pulls off at high speed cutting off all of those people trying to get around it (but fuck them because they're in their car). While the bus driver pulls off you must try to manuver a way to maintain balance (virtually impossible) and pay the fare. Ok so then you take one look at the gritty, smelly, most of the time non-english speaking bus driver and you put your money in to enter the twilight zone. You really can tell as soon as you see the first face that you've entered another dimension, one where people talk to themselves, and don't believe that personal hygiene is necessary, and the best part is, they want to sit right next to ME! On top of this, the air conditioning system is not on (I think this is done purposefully to add to the total experience of the BUS) and the smell of rancid un-clean people is in the air. So I try to sit down and open a book only to realize that I really should look ahead of me because these people may try to lure me into their tribe if I'm in la-la crazy Chuck Palahuniak land. SO the crazy lady that has just got on (let's not forget that we stop every 5 seconds so that your ride on the BUS can be as LONG as possible) and she swears that the bus has hit her elbow so she has to go to the ER and she thinks the bus company should pay. The bus driver seems amused/used to it/ disturbed, and laughs. She starts screamin to the other crazy passengers that we all saw it happend and we are witnesses (i get this funny image of us all hanging out in a courtroom together to trancribe the happenings of the elbow bash for the crazy lady and all of them leaving in white jackets) So now she starts talking to, can you guess?ME! I try to ignore her for as long as possible until I change my seat and sit beside a 105 year old lady that tells me her ailments while I wait for Rod Serling to walk in at any moment and tell me that I have a free pass to leave the TZ at any time. Doesn't happen. Now the kid in the back of the bus is egging the crazy lady on in the front of the bus and says he seen her elbow get hit. HA HA, everyone finds the banter amusing except me because the lady just pissed her pants and now the urine smell is added to the other stenches on the bus. GREAT! The crazy lady is then kicked off the bus by the driver who reminds her that it's not the first time she has done this (SURPRISE< SURPRISE) and she must go. She does,while screaming: "MY ELBOW" in the distance. OK I know that my stop is comin(After a ride that should take 5 minutes turns into a half-hour) and I push the button only to be let off at the stop a block and a half a way from my destination. I scream back door and... nothing, I yell again while they all stare at me with those eyes that silently tell you to run while u still can before you become a permanant member. I finally get out and realize that I HAVE TO GET A CAR!
Fate vs. Free Will..and eveything in between
For the skeptics, let me just say that I believe in both fate and free will. We all make conscious choices before we take action. Having said that, we are responsible for our own current situation but I also think that sometimes fate steps in and guides you.
You may call it that "gut feeling" of taking a left when you're supposed to go right. Be that as it may, the decisions that we make, or in this case, our free will, is applied to any outcome wherein a decision is made. However, is there something guiding each one of us towards our predestined fate? I think as human beings, we can manifest certain things for ourselves such as jobs we may desire or even the presence of certain people. The saying goes that we should shed our past to move forward in life. What happens when you regress? Is that part of free will? Or are any decisions that we consciously make, part of our subconscious minds which are already predetermined without us being aware? This applies to "going against the grain" in other words, taking action that should not have been taken and actually effecting the whole "divinity" thing because things you aren't meant to do can alter your life in negative ways.
A year ago, to the date, I was in NJ, my life as I knew it to be was in shambles, and I had no idea what to do next. The events that triggered my arrival in Albuquerque were eerily beyond my control, leading me to believe that there is somewhat of a chartered course that we unconsciously follow. When I left NJ, I was coming to New Mexico for 6 weeks. 6 Weeks turned into 6 months, and now I've been here a year and have grown in ways that I didn't know were possible. It's one thing to say that you're mature, but it's another thing entirely when you are physically removed from everything/everyone you've ever known and put in surroundings where the main attraction is the mountain that envelops Albuquerque like a beautiful blanket. Different, yes. Worth it, absolutely.
It was sink or swim time..and I believe I have swam. But I will say that even though I would have never thought that I would be here, I sure am glad that the master plan had this sketched on the blue print for me because being away from people and things that are familiar has been the best experience for me thus far. Isolation has taught me strength. Random people have showed me love, and the environment here has proven to me that God has a much bigger plan for us all than the daily dose of drama we each "suffer" from. It was my choice to come here, but it was fate that has kept me here, allowing me the luxury of learning about what I can offer life rather than being so caught up in my own bubble that I always wondered why life wasn't providing for me.
Another valuable tool I've acquired while in New Mexico is gratitude. Gratitude is a tool because the more you know how to give it, the more the blessings come into your life. I have come full circle in the year that I've been here, and I am thankful for both the bad and the good that I've endured on my journey because without past there is no present, and I am so very grateful to be in the present moment. So while it wasn't my choice to go through a devastating breakup, it was necessary for me to learn that I was better off without him in my life. It wasn't my choice to come to Albuquerque it chose me, and while I may have had the unconscious intuition to know I should stay here, it was fate that planted me here and allowed me to rehabilitate myself into the woman I am today.
One of life's other lessons teaches us that we should trust out gut. I have found this almost infallible. When I stepped off the plane into the New Mexico sky that summer night ayear ago, even though I was in such a "bad" place mentally, something deep within me assured me that I had found my new home. I mention this because prior to moving here, I was supposed to move to another state, and I had visited this aforementioned state numerous time and every time I got past state lines, I felt this overwhelming negative vibe making my mind question why anyone would ever want to live there? I know now what I was not enlightened enough to know then; I didn't belong there and my body was giving me all the necessary signals, I just made a conscious decision to ignore them. What happens when you ignore your gut? You get hurt, and you learn hard lessons that you don't always recover from. Thankfully, I have a strong core and through my transition I have even learned how to quiet myself and listen to that core. Now I would be lying if I said I lived by my core, but I'm aware that the key to happiness lies within each one of us, and awareness is the first step in growth.
You may call it that "gut feeling" of taking a left when you're supposed to go right. Be that as it may, the decisions that we make, or in this case, our free will, is applied to any outcome wherein a decision is made. However, is there something guiding each one of us towards our predestined fate? I think as human beings, we can manifest certain things for ourselves such as jobs we may desire or even the presence of certain people. The saying goes that we should shed our past to move forward in life. What happens when you regress? Is that part of free will? Or are any decisions that we consciously make, part of our subconscious minds which are already predetermined without us being aware? This applies to "going against the grain" in other words, taking action that should not have been taken and actually effecting the whole "divinity" thing because things you aren't meant to do can alter your life in negative ways.
A year ago, to the date, I was in NJ, my life as I knew it to be was in shambles, and I had no idea what to do next. The events that triggered my arrival in Albuquerque were eerily beyond my control, leading me to believe that there is somewhat of a chartered course that we unconsciously follow. When I left NJ, I was coming to New Mexico for 6 weeks. 6 Weeks turned into 6 months, and now I've been here a year and have grown in ways that I didn't know were possible. It's one thing to say that you're mature, but it's another thing entirely when you are physically removed from everything/everyone you've ever known and put in surroundings where the main attraction is the mountain that envelops Albuquerque like a beautiful blanket. Different, yes. Worth it, absolutely.
It was sink or swim time..and I believe I have swam. But I will say that even though I would have never thought that I would be here, I sure am glad that the master plan had this sketched on the blue print for me because being away from people and things that are familiar has been the best experience for me thus far. Isolation has taught me strength. Random people have showed me love, and the environment here has proven to me that God has a much bigger plan for us all than the daily dose of drama we each "suffer" from. It was my choice to come here, but it was fate that has kept me here, allowing me the luxury of learning about what I can offer life rather than being so caught up in my own bubble that I always wondered why life wasn't providing for me.
Another valuable tool I've acquired while in New Mexico is gratitude. Gratitude is a tool because the more you know how to give it, the more the blessings come into your life. I have come full circle in the year that I've been here, and I am thankful for both the bad and the good that I've endured on my journey because without past there is no present, and I am so very grateful to be in the present moment. So while it wasn't my choice to go through a devastating breakup, it was necessary for me to learn that I was better off without him in my life. It wasn't my choice to come to Albuquerque it chose me, and while I may have had the unconscious intuition to know I should stay here, it was fate that planted me here and allowed me to rehabilitate myself into the woman I am today.
One of life's other lessons teaches us that we should trust out gut. I have found this almost infallible. When I stepped off the plane into the New Mexico sky that summer night ayear ago, even though I was in such a "bad" place mentally, something deep within me assured me that I had found my new home. I mention this because prior to moving here, I was supposed to move to another state, and I had visited this aforementioned state numerous time and every time I got past state lines, I felt this overwhelming negative vibe making my mind question why anyone would ever want to live there? I know now what I was not enlightened enough to know then; I didn't belong there and my body was giving me all the necessary signals, I just made a conscious decision to ignore them. What happens when you ignore your gut? You get hurt, and you learn hard lessons that you don't always recover from. Thankfully, I have a strong core and through my transition I have even learned how to quiet myself and listen to that core. Now I would be lying if I said I lived by my core, but I'm aware that the key to happiness lies within each one of us, and awareness is the first step in growth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
