Reduse, Reuse, Recycle

Here is a post I found while looking back into my archives today.
I really like it so I will post it again here today.

"What Do Your Signs Say?"
Originally published on 3/25/2006

I found these signs during my snowshoe hike yesterday.
I have signs like these . . .
ironically placed in just the right spots to keep people (or even myself) from acessing and enjoying the most beautiful, stunning parts of my heart.
I have signs like these . . . destructively keeping me from entering real life.
Real beauty.
Real freedom.
Signs that cause me to stop short of running into the arms of my Savior.
Signs that cause me to look at Him and Life through binoculars.
Wondering, dreaming.
My faith and my salvation have given me abundance. Yet, I stay seated at the perimeter . . .
obeying these signs that keep me from diving in.
Looking at beauty from a distance but believing the signs that are there to keep me out.
Looking at beauty in the face and feeling forbiden to touch it.
Who taught us to erect these signs?
Whose idea was it to take us right up to the edge of real life and then say, "Don't touch!"
Our mothers?
The media?

Or perhaps it lies deeper within.
As if the result of Eve's "apple gone wrong" fiasco altered our very DNA.
As if from the moment we are born, we are inclined to engage life right up to the fences of the wild and the uncharted.
We will live and engage and play and explore . . .
as long as it is safe, and known, and guarenteed.

I don't want to look at pictures of beauty in magazines.
I don't want to read postcards about peace.

I want to run past the signs and the orange cones.

Don't give me decaf or splenda or reality TV.

I want the real thing
and I want to stand right in the bossom of it all
with head tilted high
and righteous fists raised
and glory dripping from my wide hips and oversized teeth
and say to the spinner of all lies . . .
the one who loves war and death and fashion from the 80's:

"This is mine! This is where I belong! My God sees me and knows me and likes me and loves me and He wants me right here! This is MY time and MY place and I will have peace and I will shout "NO!" to anxiety and I will shout "NO!" to being a whiny victim and I will no longer be a whore to depression & self-hatred and I will find kindness between the cobwebs of my cold, dank heart and then splash that stuff all over the place!
I will sing and dance and weep and shout
and write and cook and breast feed when the time comes
and wear pigtails & the color pink
and I will french kiss in public and talk to strangers if I want to
and go to the little kid's waterpark to ride the Lazy River beacause it brings me joy
and I will love my neighbors
and make love to my husband
and be made love to . . .
and don't you dare try to keep me out again, ass hole!"

from the girl who should not be allow to blog after 7:30 pm

it woke up.
right now.
well, a few minutes ago.
around 10:45.
after a bath and taking my evening pills.
after snuggeling with herb.
after the light went out . . . for the third time.
as my tall and broad and always warm husband drifted off,
i felt another presense with me.

next to me.

not snuggled up like herb, but rather tugging and prodding.
a presense much stronger and much warmer.
it breaths the hot yummy-stink of creativity . . .
you know what i mean?
it is kind of like "sexy-ugly" or the smell of grass or gasoline.

anyway, it hummed this tune under it's intoxicating breath . . .
the hope of possibility.

full of ability dying to burst through the seams of your neatly croched socks.
ripping out of the bounds of something created to keep me warm and safe.
it is uncaring.
unwilling to take excuses.
it doesn't even have to seduce me before i am slinking out of my bed and following the heat within my own heart into the office to discover any number of endless possibilites.

books, talks at conferences, retreats, photography, a line of fun girly cards, a line of wedding invitations . . .

they all clang about in my head.
and then i see a book (not hard to do in our house) or a photo or a painting . . . .

and i stop.

because somebody already did it.
they don't need you.
the world doesn't need you to do what anyone else can do and what hundrads who are far more brave than you have already done.
and done well.

so i slink away.

but not this time.

you see, i have another pal.
even stronger than creativity.

so here i sit.
me and curiosity.
very interested in what god might possibly do through and in and around this girl.

Not So Disgruntled

I have spent the past few moments chatting with Direct TV's automated customer service representative. . . we'll call him/her ACSR.
If you know me at all, might know that the worst, ugliest part of myself tends to come out in two places . . . my marriage . . . well, that is pretty normal and even has the potential for redemption and healing and growth . . . and when I am on the phone with a customer service representative.
It's ugly.
But it's my truth.

My main problem with customer service is that I am calling because I don't know something.
I have a question.
I am confused.
You have to give them all sorts of information just to get going.
Then you have to explain to them the thing that you don't understand to begin with.
If I don't get it, I sure can't explain it to you.

Moral of the story?
I sound like an idiot.
And customer services representatives don't really like talking to idiots.
Do I blame them?
No.
But it doesn't make it any easier.
So they ask me to explain my problem and I sound stupid.
Then they treat me like I am stupid.
Then I treat them like poop.
And it goes on and on.

The automated system normally hacks me off even more.
I will almost always just start pressing "0" over and over until I am talking to a real person.
Because when you are living in my mind, you typically make things much more confusing and difficult than they really are . . . and let's be honest, Mr. ACSR, I am much much too complicated and high-maintainance for you.
You have nothing to offer a confused, learning-disabled-ish girl like me.

But today it was nice.
Automated Customer Service Representative (ACSR):
"What is the home number this account is attached to?"
ME: "Gosh, I don't know." I gave them herb's cell phone number while frantically looking for our number. We never use it!
ACSR: Repeats back the cell number. Just giving me enough time to find the real number. "Is this correct?"
ME: "NO!"
ACSR: "Please give me your correct number so I may further assist you."

Honestly, for a split second, I felt like an idiot. I felt like somehow the ACSR has the ability to pass judgment on me and determine I am a huge moron.
But the beauty of it is . . . he/she does not.
Nope!
Not even a single little bit!
It was a good customer service representative day for me!

And let's talk about this "bundle" chananagain that Qwest is trying to pull.
I called Qwest and paired down our phone line from $34 to $11.50 a month.
Bare bones, people.
That is all this girl needs!

Then I called back to discuss bundling (it just seemed like a good idea to keep it separate).
Turns out that if and only if I go back to my $34 home line package can I get a bundling deal.
Then I can save $5 a month.
Nope.
Once I hike my monthly phone package up I can bundle my direct TV into the whole deal and save another $5.

Let me think about this.
Nope.
I am currently saving over $20 and I only have the services I really need.

Did you know that in Colorado it is only $6.50/month for a basic, bare bones phone line!?!?!?
It is $15 in most other states!
I added the $5 line backer and called it a day!

AND I have even convinced herb to at least THINK about pairing down our Direct TV package.
If we watch TV in one room (instead of three),
and cut out one of the cable packages,
we can save $23 MORE each month!!!

And if we go down to a more basic channel package, the possibilities of savings - ENDLESS!
Well, not really endless, but at least another $15.

It has so little to do with the actual savings.
And if we don't do it, I have assured herb that our relationship will remain fully in-tact.
But I would love it!
I know $20 here and there adds but, but it is not a huge deal for us right now without kids, etc.

The huge deal, is this:
I really like simplifying.
I was in the middle of a total re-simplification makeover when I met Herb.
And then I realized how much I like the luxuries of cable and Ti-Vo and all of it.
So simplification took a hiatus.

I love Ti-Vo, but it is not necessary.
It doesn’t' make me any happier.
Truly.

So here we are.
Simplifying as we go.
No big deal.
But a lot of fun.

Next stop . . . cell phone package!!!
YES!

In other news . . .
Our date night was fantastic!
We are getting to a point where we just really like spending time together.
Sounds weird since we are married.
And newlyweds, at that.
But let's be real,
in our case, after we said I do . . . we said . . . I do WHHHHAAAAT??????
and that lasted about a year and three or four months.

But in the last 8 weeks or so, we have turned a big corner.
The love thing was never a question.
The commitment thing was solid.
BUT NOW . . .
We like each other again!

It is fantastic!

So, a hot dog and a silly movie was so much fun!
At the end of the day, we are just a couple of cheap dates. Seriously, as much as we LOVE eating at "gourmet bistros" and staying at creative, plush places on vacation . . . it really doesn't take much!

Sorry, When I am About to Leave for Mexico, I Apparently Call Herb by Many Different Hispanic Names.

Well, yesterday's post was not actually meant to be a call for affirmation or a roll call of all of my blog readers (though that is not above me!) . . . i was actually going to write the story as a letter to Kelly just to make her laugh. Then I realized that Jennifer watches Grey's Anatomy and would also think it was funny. Then I realized, they might be the only ones left who read.
OKAY! So, now that Kelly and Jennifer DO read this blog, plus the two commentors and my friend Kaye who just emails me when she feels like leaving a comment, we have established that I have five readers!
Notice that Herberto is not on that list.

We are now at the four day mexico countdown. Arnesto has been mocking me for weeks now about my tendency to pack early . . . but i did't start until last night!

This is not the first of countdowns for me. When we were about a month out from our wedding, I made Jose a long paper chain and each day, he took down one link to find a sweet message from me . . . his mexican bride! Then there were the numbers (printed out on my parent's dot matrix printer) that hung in my locker the last 50 or so days of my senior year in high school.

But the truly funniest count down I ever did was in high school. I had a crush on a boy named John Stevens. Little heart breaker. Anyway, John and I were on the swim team together for years. This particular summer, I decided that I loved John. So i would ride my bike (or just walk) around the neighborhood trying to find where he was mowing lawns. Then i would sort of prance by as if i hadn't noticed that he was there. But looking extra sassy, no doubt (me, not him). Can you see how I made it 27 years without a "real boyfriend"???

The real treat was that he mowed our next door neighbor's lawn. I would take note of this and wander out to sit on the hammock in our yard when he was our mowing.

Fancy that.
Here I am. On my hammock.
Which just so happens to be hung across two trees . . .
one on our property and
one on the neighbor's.
Oops.
Do you have to mow the grass RIGHT where I am lounging?
Shame.

Huge shock - this didn't actually do much in the way of making John my boyfriend. So when the summer was coming to a hault, I began the "14 Day John Countdown". I cannot tell you a thing about it other than the fact that it was well documented in a properly labled journal. And while I did go on several dates with John, there was only friendship in the cards for us. Oh the entertainment I provided for my parents. Years and years.

I really should send them a bill.

Luckily by the time I met Jorge, I had outgrown the "oblivious hammock lounging" routine. I had graduated to much more mature, stelth-like techniques, like just boldly stopping by his house wearing nothing but running shorts and a sports bra (the kind that covers your tummy . . . come on, what do you take me for?!?!?), "on my way home from the park, because you know i live in the neighborhood now . . . yep. just four short blocks directly southeast of here. riiiiiight over there. would you like me to draw you a map, phillipe? i know how you love maps. i mean, um, well that is what i have heard. i have not set up web cams in your house or anything. i don't know that you sometimes read maps while taking a dump. But if I had set up web cams, that would not be a deal breaker would it? i mean, i know you like tech-y stuff. hey, eyes on me. don't look directly into that corner."

Smooooth.

And yet, lookie who is leaving in four days for mexico with their sexy latin (with subtle german undertones) lover?


(*** and this, ladies and gents is why i don't blog more than every 10 days! i just came over here to check my email . . . an hour ago! and here i am, still in my towel, blogging. dangit!)

Sometimes . . .

Sometimes
It snows.
For weeks on end.
And you're are not used to that.
Because even though you live in Colorado
It doesn't really snow that much in Denver
At least not THAT much.

And your body hurts.
All the time.
Because let's face it . . .
You are sick.
And that makes you sicker.
But it is true.

You have lots of little infections
that somehow jumped into your body.
It isn't your fault really . . .
I mean, who gets Lead Poisoning and Lyme Disease on PURPOSE?
Nobody.
That's who.

There I said it.
Did you catch that?
I ever so subtly slipped in two of my little illnesses.

I walk through life . . .
sometimes behaving like I'm sick . . .
because I AM sick . . .
but pretending that I'm not . . .
because I don't want to be sick.

But sometimes you turn 25 and you get tired
and your body aches
and you don't want to return any of your phone calls
even to your friends
and you can't think clearly anymore
not like you used to.
you're brain feels foggy and murky.
and you are certain you have a brain tumor.
and you tell your sister this while hiking through the mountains
even though you should probably be sipping tea somewhere
but you won't
no, not for at least two or three more years.
because you just won't slow down.
why would you?

you continue to work your crazy therapy job
dealing with clients you are not yet qualified to deal with
in the name of "helping the underdog"
by providing inexpensive therapy. . .
and because you are too tired to research your options
and find another job.
but that doesn't strike you as odd.
you just assume everyone is too tired to find another job
even though they are exhausted.

and on the weekends,
you babysit to pay for your high-rollin' lifestyle
that requires things like
paying rent on time
and gas for your car
and eating.
you know, luxuries.
things that your $12/hr with a master's degree won't pay for.
and you don't mind.
sure a bigger paycheck would be nice, but you just figure this is all a part of life.

clearly, you are making really good choices for your life at this point.

and sometimes your digress.
because you have a brain tumor . . .

ANYWAY, you tell your sister about this brain tumor
as your hike through the forest.
because it couldn't be anything else.
i mean, when did you have to start pausing between words
because you can't think of the next one?
clearly, the word-chooser-part of your brain is broken.
with a tumor.
and your sister . . .
oh, she teases you.
endlessly.
because sometimes that is just what sisters do . . .

so you have this "tumor" and it is really too bad
because
you used to be so smart
and you don't feel smart anymore
and you can't pick out the words that you are grasping for
and you used to have such a nice vocabulary.

So you do what any exhaustsed, worn out individual would do:
you start a book group to reclaim your vocabulary!
And you just chalk it all up to being a little misplaced
and even a little depressed
from finishing graduate school
and turning 25
and all of a sudden being an adult for the first time in your life.

But that was almost five years ago.

Turns out somewhere along the line
you must have eaten paint chips
and forgotten about it.

Note to self:
Don't eat anymore paint chips.

And sometimes
even if you weren't sick
you DO just feel a little depressed
and that's okay
you aren't apologetic about that.

i mean come on . . .
you are a Christian so you know
this was NOT the life we were designed to live . . .
at least not ALL of the life we were designed to live.
and that IS depressing.
it SHOULDN'T feel "right".

But even though sometimes your are okay with being depressed,
Sometimes, it makes you even more depressed.
And sometimes, you even start to despise yourself for it a little bit.
Okay, a lot of bit.

And sometimes you know
That all of this crap that you are and that you feel
Is not real
It is not true
Sometimes you know that it is all a veil.
It is covering something that is more real.
Things like joy and kindness peak out from random corners and dark crevices.
Creative things pour out of your brain and your mouth.
And you know there is more.

And sometimes that depresses you because you can't seem to grasp the "more"
But sometimes
It brings just enough hope.

And then
Sometimes.
Just sometimes,
After the ground has been covered in snow for a full month,
You look outside of your window
For no reason at all
And you see
Grass.
Flat, tired, wilty green-ish grass.
But grass none the less.
And you cry.
Because you had forgotten that
While the snow may come . . .
While it might pile itself real high up all around you . . .
It melts.
And there is grass beneath it.


(*a fun song recommendation for today . . . well, okay, not fun . . . actually kind of melodramatic . . . but quite insightful and clever and sometimes, if you are feeling overwhelemed by a month's worth of snow . . . very comforting . . . because somebody else feels that way too . . . check it out!)

By the way . . . the song isn't really about snow or february or wood chopping or flower bulbs . . . . and neither was this post.

Happy 51 Weeks!

It is official. This time, 53 weeks ago, I was hopping out of the shower after walking home from Einstein Brother’s bagels with Amy. The weather was cold and rainy. Despite my self-diagnosed seasonal affective disorder, the weather did not disturb me the least bit. The hairdresser was on his way. It was a mellow morning, just as I had planned. Jack Johnson playing in the background. Nobody had been invited over, with the exception of two bridesmaids who were asked to refrain from coming if they were the least bit overwhelmed or stressed out. They didn’t come by except to pick me up to go to the church.

This week, I am going to take us all on a little trip down memory lane . . . dating, engagement, the wedding, and the big fat first year of marriage!
How about these fun pictures? Our first big night out as a couple – my 80’s party! And our first “nice picture” as a couple! I had this enlarged to a 5x7 and put into a frame for Herb. I was so nervous to give it to him; what if he freaked out because he thought I was more serious about the relationship than he was?!?!? And I would feel like a fool! But, I pushed my fear and gave him the framed photo. He did not, as it turned out, freak out. He was relieved that I liked him enough to frame a picture of us!

You can read about "our story" here.

Everything South of Park Meadows Mall is Beautiful!

The First Harjes Haus Road Trip with the Beloved Valty


Day 1:
Departure City - Denver, CO
Arrival City - Taos, NM
Route - I-25 South to Hwy 64 West



Highlights -
* Just the right ratio of clouds to sunshine
* Top down 4 out of 5 hours
* Got to experience Herb's first ever trip to Sonic . . . but they just don't make the Limeaid like they did in Kirksville, MO!

* Ate lunch in the sex change capitol of the country (Trinidad, CO)
* Relaxed in a hammock next to a babbling brook
* Stayed at Adobe and Pines Inn . . . very lovely and full of charm!


* Shared a bottle of lovely wine with my hubbers (he says I can only call him hubbers if I don't finish it off with a "hubberson". I used to call him hubber-hubberson. didn't go over that well. But hubbers seems to fly okay)


Day 2:
Beautiful man waiting for me while I hack around with the camera.


Departure City - Taos, NM
Stops - Chimayo, NM
Arrival City - Jemez Springs, NM
Route - Hwy 64 South to Hwy 68 South to Hwy 75 (at which point we realized that we missed the highly acclaimed scenic route on Hwy 518 & 76) and took Hwy 75 east to Hwy 76 South to Hwy 30 South to Hwy 502 West to Hwy 501 South (after about two miles we realized that we should have taken the advice Herb got from a local who in fact DID know what she was talking about and take the "longer" way). Turned around and got onto Hwy 4 West all the way to Jemez Springs!

Highlights -
* A quick drive to see the Rio Grande Gorge. We are convinced that the gorge is filled with the skulls of dead cowboys, explorers, pioneers, and all of their horses. Seriously, you are trotting through this huge valley and then all of a sudden BAM!!! there's a huge crack in the earth! We didn't even realize we where near the gorge until we had already driven about a 16th of a mile over it.



* Saw a beautiful valley housed in a crater that is outside of Jemez - the result of a volcanic explosion a few million years ago.

* Ate lunch at the Rancho de Chimayo restaurant. And while the food does not live up to it's reputation, it was fun to go back to a place my family visited years ago, during happy times.
* Celebrated Courtney and Dave at their rehearsal dinner
* Stayed at the Canyon Del Rio Inn - what a wonderful place to relax!


* Took a dip in the hot tub with my hubbers. It was HOT! 107 degrees!

Day 3
No travel

Highlights-
* Courtney got herself married! What a blessing to see this beautiful woman be found and loved by a man who sees her heart and her soul and loves every bit of her!




* Enjoyed talking with some good people
* Had a delicious whole wheat carrot muffin with breakfast.
* Please enjoy this new picture of me looking like my celebrity look-alike.

Day 4
Departure City - Jemez Springs, NM
Arrival City - Durango, CO
Route - Hwy 4 West to 550 West

Highlights -
* Ate breakfast at the Inn with a lovely pair of probably-lesbians (almost 89% sure they were a couple)
* Sat and read by the river in Adirondack chairs
* Beautiful drive through northern New Mexico
* Breathtaking scenery and clouds so thick they looked like they had been painted and hung in the sky for a high school production of Oklahoma!

* A crispy flash fried slice of avocado with salsa
* Arrived at Apple Orchard Inn. I loved it (the highlight). Herb hated it (not the highlight part)




Day 5
No travel

Highlights -
* Herb suggested we play miniature golf. If you know herb, you know this is funny (and oddly out of character)
* Making up after a long, stupid day of miscommunicating and crying (mostly me crying)
* Eating pizza in bed in our underwear
* triple chocolate chip cookies made by our innkeeper, Celeste
* The following conversation:
Cara: "If you had any supernatural power what would it be?"
Herb: "I would be able to communicate with wild animals!"
Cara: "What? If you had ANY super power in the world you would choose to be Dr. Doolittle? That's not a super power!"
Herb: "I would summon the grizzly bears and they would help me fight crime."

Day 6
Departure City - Durango, CO
Arrival City - Denver, CO
Route - (after revising herb's proposed tour around the entire perimeter of the state, we settled on this) Hwy 550 West to Hwy 92 East to Hwy 133 North to Hwy 82 West to I-70 East to 6th Ave . . . etc. ending at Corona St.

Highlights -
*The most splendid tour of Aspen trees EVER! A big thing out here is to "Go see the Aspens" in the fall; something neither of us in a combined 13 years of Colorado citizenship have ever experienced. It was phenomenal. They are beautiful in the fall!
* Driving the Million Dollar highway with it's sharp turns and NO guard rail! This was Herb's favorite day of driving, by far!


* Driving into Ouray, CO after a long decent off of Engineer Mountain. The views are the most breathtaking I have ever seen in Colorado!
* Herb teaching me how to drive like a racecar driver. I was actually accelerating (opposed to screaming with my eyes shut) as I sped around downhill mountain curves!
* Crawling into our own bed!

Total miles traveled: 1,222.7
Days of driving: 4
Days with the top down: 3
Total number of fights: 1 (HUGE thanks to those of your bathing this trip in prayer! We really enjoyed each other!)
Total number of dips in the hot tub: 2 . . . 3 if you count our whirlpool tub in Durango.

Overall, a wonderful time with my husband in the glorious western states! We enjoyed each other immensely!

Marriage: A Tool For the Depraved? VOL. 8

When I worked in the treatment center, we had a young man who came from an abusive family. We're talking unimaginable amounts of trauma and damage. This boy was wounded. Deeply. To the core. He didn't weigh more than a 100 pounds, and yet he was so disruptive and destructive that we could not control him. Eventually, we got to a point where we had to hire an extra person to work the milieu so that there would always be an extra pair of hands to make sure he was taken care of. That is a big deal. In a place where the client to staff ratio was 1:4, this child had 1:1 attention during every one of his waking hours. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for him. We told him I love you. We joked around with him. He was loved. He was given choices. And second chances. And 17th chances. And three meals a day. All luxuries he had not been afforded before.

After several months of treatment, and a month of very good behavior, I got permission to take him out for a reward. We went out to a mexican restaurant. He ate fried ice cream until he could eat no more. He was accelerating in the program. Growing. Healing.

Three days later, he ran away and was brought back to the facility in handcuffs. He lost control that night and had to be physically restrained. After spending the last of my fun money that month on chimichangas and fried ice cream, I was called horrible names and even bit so hard I had a large bruise.

It was like he did not know how to get better. Like he didn't want to get better. And the people who wanted to help him were his enemy.

Melanie's comment from last week about the paralytic in John 5 is beginning to make sense.

In so many ways, I am that teenage boy. I have everything I need before me for full life. And yet, I flaunt my battle wounds (small in comparison to those of other people) as an excuse to stay stuck . . . to resist change.

Last week Herb and I were joking around about scapegoat . . . "Sorry, I had a bad day, so I can run this red light." "You know, I just got in a fight with my boss, so I am going to punch you in the face." "I had a colonoscopy today, so, I just wanted to let you know I won't be paying my taxes this year . . . and I am going to put whoopie cushions on the chairs of all of the judges in the Supreme Court. But don't blame me, I had a tiny camera shoved up my buns today. It isn't my fault."

This week and last, my prayer book has been guiding my to scriptures and sacred readings about our part in the process of God's healing and forgiveness. Melanie was right . . . there is a level of responsibility in healing. At some point, we have to say:

"I want to get better."

Cardboard Girl

she is a prisoner
in a cage whose door has no latch or lock
held captive by words like "then" and "should" and "impossible"
she carries a pine tree shaped car deotorizer in the back pocket of her GAP jeans
and pulls it out to impress her cell mates with stories of her adventures in the backcountry
adventures that she weaves as she goes along
sniffing the cardboard cutout
when she forgets what might come next
she has only ever seen photos of trees
because nothing real grows in her cell
except her belly's self-indulgent buldge
rope swings and tree climbing contests frighten her
she is fearful of splinters and sap stains

Maybe Not

My friend Libby has decided to take a ride on the Change Train this summer. Her Change Train is on a non-stop route; destination unknown. The conductor is a scary, tatoo clad personal trainer. To hear her describe this vehicle makes me think of the scary boat ride on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I always had to close my eyes during that part of the movie. And if the Change Train at all resembles the boat, then my response is the same. I don't mind adventure. Nor do I resist new things (with the exception of course, of sushi. and now that i have mentioned sushi, i fear that any comments i receive will be about how i am missing out on God's favorite food. let's try to stay focused, people!).

But real change. The kind that causes you to forgive, let go, make new habits, believe in God at a new level . . . you will always find me covering my eyes and rocking back and forth at the mere suggestion. And with the exception of the promise of "ridiculous fun" and viewings of "Sex and the City" reruns on DVD, I want nothing to do with Libby's change train.

The funny thing is that I have spent my whole life held captive by the belief that I need to change. I want to change. Sometimes I am so immersed in self-disgust that all I want to do is change. I have spent hours dissecting myself with the hope of finding the cancer that has caused such disdain for myself. But I can't find it. Maybe my biggest problem is that I won't accept that there is a blood coursing through my spiritual veins that ripped the cancer from me years ago. Maybe the root of my sickness is my obsession with needing to be broken.