Jayne Says

Old by Association

The Pilot is 40 today. We had a fun weekend with new friends, kayaking on a pretty lake. Today, we're off to find a semi-secret swimming hole on a nearby river. We're playing hooky and might get sunburned and drink too much. And as you know by now, T doesn't need much encouragement to frolic in his birthday suit. I suppose you're only as old as you feel . . . or act. I'll post pictures tomorrow!

Doh!

This news is a few months old, but I keep thinking about it. A study came out in March that more Americans can name the family members of "The Simpsons" than can identify the rights enumerated in the First Amendment to the Constitution.

Only one in four Americans can name more than one of the five freedoms guaranteed by the First Amendment. But more than half can name at least two members of the TV cartoon family, according to a survey.

The study by the new McCormick Tribune Freedom Museum found that 22 percent of Americans could name all five Simpson family members, compared with just one in 1,000 people who could name all five First Amendment freedoms.

The survey found more people could name the three "American Idol" judges - Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul and Randy Jackson - than identify three First Amendment rights. They were also more likely to remember popular advertising slogans.

It also showed that people misidentified First Amendment rights. About one in five people thought the right to own a pet was protected, and 38 percent said they believed the right against self-incrimination contained in the Fifth Amendment was a First Amendment right, the survey found.

We can do better than that, people.

Say it with me, now: Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa and Maggie. Only 22 % of Americans can name them all? Sheesh.

Oh yeah, freedom of speech, religion, press, assembly and petition for redress of grievances, etc.

Here are the Amendments to the Constitution enacted in 1789, which we refer to as the Bill of Rights, from the site (also posting the Constitution and Declaration of Independence) called mybillofrights.org.This fellow wants to put a monument to the Bill of Rights at statehouses around the country. Instead of the Ten Commandments, the heathen.

Amendment I
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Amendment II
A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.

Amendment III
No Soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.

Amendment IV
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.

Amendment V
No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.

Amendment VI
In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence.

Amendment VII
In Suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury, shall be otherwise re-examined in any Court of the United States, than according to the rules of the common law.

Amendment VIII
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.

Amendment IX
The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

Amendment X
The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

Evolution of Dance

I was going to put this in the category of "useless filler" but it's not, really.

Before you accuse me of throwing any old scrap to you famished fickle lions check out the evolution of dance. I have watched this 5 times already, it is hilarious.

Extra bonus: of course you remember the Muppet Show's wonderful Mana Mana song? This is so cute and catchy.

I need a little hilarity and cuteness. I have a "big" meeting tomorrow and all I feel like doing is crawling back under the covers. My elephant (see earlier post) is being petulant. Thank you for the thoughtful comments on my last post. I will rejoin the circus, perhaps with some juicy steaks, by Friday.

Taming the Elephant

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time

- T.S. Elliot

It occurred to me this morning that I have spent the past year consuming one self-help or spiritual book after another in a frenzied, prolonged binge intended, I suppose, to induce enlightenment. I read six books over the past four weeks. I savored none of them.

I am stuffed. I am done reading. I have everything I need now to stop "learning" and begin listening. I am having an identity crisis, but the best kind. I feel as though the last two books I read began dismantling some of my self-delusions in earnest, and I am curious to see how I reassemble myself.

If you are on a spiritual journey, I will highly recommend these two books (links on my sidebar), A Hidden Wholeness, the Journey Toward an Undivided Life by Parker Palmer, and The Happiness Hypothesis, Finding Modern Truth in Ancient Wisdom, but Jonathan Haidt.

In A Hidden Wholeness, a graceful, quiet, gorgeously written book, Palmer discusses the pain of living a divided life (when we are not invested in our work, we remain in relationships or circumstances that kill our spirits, we harbor secrets to achieve personal gain at the expense of others, we hide our beliefs, etc.):

The divided life is a wounded life, and the soul keeps calling us to heal the wound. Ignore that call, and we find ourselves trying to numb our pain with an anesthetic of choice, be it substance abuse, overwork, consumerism, or mindless media noise. Such anesthetics are easy to come by in a society that wants to keep us divided and unaware of our pain--for the divided life that is pathological for individuals can serve social systems well, especially when it comes to those functions that are morally dubious.

Much of the book is dedicated to the practice of holding a "circle of trust" in which a person is truly heard (without advice, setting straight, fixing, etc.) in a way that invites the soul (our inner teachers) to speak our truths.

Palmer describes the soul as shy, similar to a wild animal. It needs silence, respect and honoring to reveal itself. The depth of community that is possible (and practiced) that Palmer describes makes my heart ache with a profound longing. It also made me realize how much I rush in to "fix" and "advise" instead of quietly listening to the wisdom of others. What arrogance!

The second book I recommend was quite insightful, comprehensive, mature and witty. I fancy myself somewhat of an armchair psychologist and am particularly interested in the [relatively] new field of positive psychology, which focuses on how humans may thrive instead of merely cataloging pathology.

I have conducted a considerable amount of research into happiness and am relieved to have found practically the definitive resource on the topic with Haidt's The Happiness Hypothesis. I dreaded picking up yet another book given my recent self-help bender but this was my last one. I sighed and wondered whether this would have anything for me in it. I opened the book to the first page, the dedication page, which simply says, "For Jayne." I laughed and took that as good a sign as any.

Weaving together psychological, sociological, biological, philosophical and spiritual principles throughout the ages and including the most provocative modern studies, Haidt illustrates clear ways to increase one's happiness and illuminates how most wisdom in these matters has been repeated by just about every school of thought from the Bible to Greek philosophers, from Hindu teachings to Dr. Phil.

The enduring metaphor Haidt employs regarding our sense of self is that of a rider on an unruly elephant, where the rider is our relatively recently developed logical, reasoning, consciously controlled thought and the elephant represents everything else.

The elephant includes the gut feelings, visceral reactions, emotions, and intuitions that comprise much of the automatic system. The elephant and the rider each have their own intelligence, and when they work together well they enable the unique brilliance of human beings. But they don't always work together well.

Haidt goes on to describe and explain our frustrations at failing to maintain self-control, among other "failures" when our elephants aren't tamed. The results of some of the cited studies, particularly about how thoroughly and convincingly we delude ourselves to justify our behavior, hypocrisy and positions are fascinating.

There is just so much in this book; I had so many "ah-ha" moments . . . and one watershed realization that I am not such a big loser when it comes to self-discipline. I just need to spend some time taming my unconscious mind, like everyone else.

If human behavior and increasing your happiness and the quality of your life and experiences interest you, I'm going to call this one a must-read. I will be returning to the principles in this book more specifically soon, I am sure.

Particularly now that I am DONE reading (these kinds of books anyway) for a good long while.

I Fought Utah and Utah Won

I am so sad that the Utah Supreme Court upheld the constitutionality of the state's anti-polygamy law today. Because I totally want to move to Utah and marry Neena and Don (and their hilarious Utah friends Ruthie and Eric). It is taking too long to upload the pictures into this post, so please go check out my new Utah Road Trip photo album! Before you read any further, be warned that some of these pictures might not be safe for work.

The Pilot and I set out on our road trip last Tuesday May 9th. We drove from Northern California through part of Nevada via Route 50 ("The Loneliest Road in America") and spent the night in a little town called Eureka.

Here's T, baring it all, as far as the eye can see on a stretch of the 50:

On Wednesday, we continued east, taking a little detour through the Great Basin National Park (so called because none of the rivers and other surface waters flow to the ocean, who knew?) We saw a snake and an interesting rusted old car with a horse skeleton at the wheel.

We arrived in Cedar City Wednesday evening to meet up with Neena, Don, Eric, Ruthie, their friend Eduardo, Caroline and Edge. We all hit it off right away (tequila is an amazing social lubricant, isn't it?) and all of my anxieties melted away along with my inhibitions. I recall a lot of laughter, drinking and dancing, but the rest is a bit fuzzy. What happens in Utah stays in Utah, my friends.

Thursday morning, we finished packing up and began the convoy for 2.5 hours into the desert, to the secret camping spot. But not to worry, this wasn't one of the ones that was closed today due to THE PLAGUE.

We dallied a bit in Escalante, where we had some pizza and cold beers at the Esca-Latte Internet Cafe for lunch before heading on.

The camping spot was gorgeous. Hot, insanely dry, high altitude (about 6,400 feet and T and I live at about 1,000) but stunning nonetheless. My skin was cracking and I was sucking wind just walking around but the group gave me enough booze to quell my whining. More laughter, eating and drinking, out by the campfire. Heaven.

Friday, we went on a hike to a water hole not too far away. After watching Ruthie make the leap, I gathered my courage and made the big jump down into the freezing water, which had so recently been snow. It was invigorating! T couldn't be outdone by the ladies, so he showed us all up with his perfect swan dive.

Friday night as a repeat of Thursday night, except there was a full moon out. There may or may not have been howling. Drinking, eating, laughing, lots of dick jokes and movie references, much hilarity, singing, blah blah blah.

Saturday, we were all looking a bit worse for the wear. The references and jokes were not so quick, and we were dragging a bit. And I was really looking forward to a shower. I had gone through about two thirds of a large bottle of lotion I bought in Cedar City. That morning, we went for another hike, into the canyon by our campsite. Did I mention it was hot and dry there? Nonetheless, we were sad to pack up camp.

Saturday evening we arrived at the Hell's Backbone Grill and Boulder Mountain Lodge, for showers, a hot tub and a delicious (albeit quite expensive) meal. That place was amazing. T and I hit the hay early, exhausted.

Sunday, we ate another gourmet meal at the lodge and said a sad farewell to Ed, Caroline and Edge. Neena, Don, Ruth, Eric, T and I took the scenic way across a rugged patch of land called "Hell's Backbone." T stripped down again, for another good photo op. Neena has posted a close up, but see if you can find him in my pictures in the sidebar. Where's Waldo?

We all had a final meal together again in Escalante, for more pizza and beer, before heading our separate ways. I was very sad to say goodbye to my new friends, but I have a funny feeling I will be seeing them again.

T and I made it to Austin, Nevada (a cute little town with bike trails, and a good half-way point between Utah and CA, hint hint . . .) for the night, but not before taking some more nekkid pictures on the 50. I have a funny sunburn and I hate that T has a better ass than I do. Bastard.

Yesderday (Monday) T and I drove all the way home, about 6 final hours, with only one small detour at a sand dune. We arrived home yesterday evening, tired, sunburned, achy, broke . . . but happy.

This Made My Day

I heard Weird Al Yankovic's Angry White Boy Polka on the radio the other day for the first time and it really ligthened my spirits. I Googled it so I could hear it again and found the pleasant surprise of not only the songs, but accompanying animation on Weird Al's site.

If you like/listen to Papa Roach, System of a Down, the Vines, the White Stripes, the Strokes, Disturbed, Rage Against the Machine, LimpBizkit, Staind, Kid Rock, POD and Eminem, and maybe think they could stand to lighten up . . . perhaps to a polka beat . . . you will enjoy this.

Here's the link to Weird Al's Angry White Boy Polka Video. I love Weird Al. I used to listen to him back in the day on the Doctor Demento show on the radio when I was a teenager spending summers in L.A.

Off for the rest of the week. Utah. I can't wait! No blogsitting, no surprise posts. Just Weird Al all week. Yep.

Fill in the Blank

I stole this one from Jaquandor.

I am looking forward to going on a road trip Tuesday, to meet up with Neena, Edge and Caroline for a bit of camping. There's nothing wrong with meeting up with a few strangers in the middle of the Utah desert, is there?

I want a peaceful, quiet mind.

I wish people would stop hurting each other.

I hate dumbass lawyers . . . especially the kind who keep appealing after they keep losing and ruin my week as I reply to a petition for review in the CA Supreme Court. Where Don Dumbfocker, Esq. from the firm Crowell Underrock & Dye will be denied and lose again. Give it up already!

I love my husband, our neurotic animals, reading, movies, friends, laughter, a challenge.

I miss Paisley. The cat, not the pattern.

I fear waaaaaayyyyy to much. Spiders, heights, disapproval, rejection, failure, letting people get too close, dependency, driving in hectic traffic, that my animals will get sick or hurt, that my husband or I will, wasting my life.

I hear the near-endless chatter in my head . . . what I should do, to whom I should write, what to pack, what to buy, how I should act, how I should look . . . I would like to hear more silence.

I wonder what it would be like to be a radiant, enlightened person who is uplifting and fearless.

I regret many of the hurtful things I have said to and about people.

I am not constant.

I dance after watching dance movies. All around the house. I love dancing and wish I had some instruction. Like with everything else, I want to be a "perfect" dancer, know all the right moves, etc. But the best is when I dance with my dogs (when nobody else is around) because they love it and don't judge me.

I sing off-key but with enthusiasm. Again, the dogs love it and don't judge.

I cry sometimes when I am frustrated. Like when I STILL can't find my way driving around our new town after living here for 8 months. But quietly, stoically.

I am not always as thoughtful as I feel I should be. I have a list of thank-you notes and cards to send out . . . 

I make with my hands . . . I keep coming back to this one. I used to make jewelry. I like to cook but haven't done much lately. I am scared to start knitting given my obsessive personality. I make photographs with my hands and eyes and mind. Um, profane gestures?

I write because I seek contact, shared understanding.

I confuse people sometimes, I think.

I need to relate.

I should exercise more, banish the word "should" from my vocabulary . . .

I start more projects than I finish.

I finish off my drink(s), usually.

I tag no one. Freebie here, folks. [stole that from Jaquandor, too]

Just Like That

For two years, I worked for a miserable woman in a small law office. She was brilliant and had twenty years of experience on me. She could have been an incredible mentor to me had she not been so cruel, manipulative and insecure. A dark cloud followed her everywhere. If the rest of us were in the lobby laughing as work was about to begin, the second she came in the door, a wall of ominous, murky silence assaulted the room; we would all look down and slink quietly back to our offices. The new ones learned quickly not to say "good morning!" as this was greeted with a snarl. Somehow, she managed to suck all of the joy and lightness out of a room.

Now, "Catbert" (she always reminded me of that Dilbert cartoon character; short and round with glasses and an inimitable mean streak, and this is what T and I called her behind her back) seemed to enjoy testing people, finding their weaknesses, and then making their lives a living hell. She seemed to derive whatever pleasure she allowed herself by making people cry.

The lawyer I replaced in that office of the perpetual revolving door told me that Catbert had "emotionally abused" him.  At first I just thought, "Yeah, okay. Pussy." But then I slowly came to understand what he meant.

At first, Catbert loved me. I had a good work ethic, I was mature and did not back down when she tested me. But then as I became more comfortable in the job, she began to withhold information from me, sabotage me, undermine me in front of our clients. She did not want me looking too good. She wanted to remind me who was boss.

I had never encountered anyone so intentionally cruel in my life. And I had to work with her every day. This was actually a good opportunity for me to practice patience, perseverance and compassion, because she was a horribly damaged woman, who felt the need to inflict pain on those closest to her.

And she was such a control freak that she said that when her kids were growing up, the family had two Christmas trees. One for her to decorate, one for everyone else to decorate, because they would not do it "correctly." They were not to touch her tree. Ah, the Joy of the Season of Giving. God, I have too many Catbert stories.

Anyway, the office was dysfunctional (and haunted, to boot) and the "big boss" in the main office, hours away, was a psycho who practiced the "sea gull" management style: fly in from nowhere, crap all over the place, then fly away, leaving everyone else to clean up the mess. And Gull and Catbert were embroiled in a twenty year pissing contest involving an equally-matched, seemingly indefatigable and inexhaustible supply of ammunition (of which cross-fire I unwittingly got sprayed on more than one occasion).

Catbert decided that our little office was so dysfunctional that we would all have to attend group therapy. With her own therapist. With her taking notes. And with this little greasy-haired freak of a "professional" asking about our childhoods for hours. In front of each other and Catbert. Did I mention she was TAKING FUCKING NOTES?

At one point, she and the rapist (oops, I mean therapist) were cornering the newest employee and interrogating her with inappropriate questions. This employee was shy and understandably intimidated. So I interrupt and say I think the whole thing is inappropriate, and they should back off her, and why aren't we talking about office communication and work instead of inappropriate personal issues?

And then the therapist turns to me and asks me what about my childhood made me need to be "The Rescuer." Oy.

So big mean Catbert continued to make our working lives torture.

Now, little Jaynie was not exactly an innocent victim here, who are we kidding? Pit the younger, hungrier Alpha Bitch up against the older, more comfortable control freak Alpha Bitch and there will be some . . . conflict.

Add to that Big Boss Gull decides he wants ME to be the new boss and Catbert should step down. Oh, but she should stay in the same office, won't that work great? She had run that office for twenty years, and she's just going to gracefully step aside and let a newer lawyer who had only been there a few years manage the office? Things went from bad to worse, and then uglier than I had ever experienced or could have ever imagined.

This was the low point of my professional career, circa 2003. I broke a tooth from grinding them at night, I went on anti-anxiety meds for a very short while, I was a bundle of stress.

Catbert finally left, but not without leaving deep claw marks in the larger firm, the office, some client relations and my spirit.

I managed the office for about another year and recruited a wonderful replacement and then jumped ship, happy with the job I had done in uplifting the office, systems, morale, clients, cases, etc.

[And maybe now it makes sense why I dropped out of the big firm race and am on a more spiritual, creative, life-affirming path now? With some legal consulting but not enough that I have to be around LAWYERS too much?]

Well, I haven't seen Catbert in years, and was happy to have that chapter in my life completed. Every now and again, something would remind me of her and those days and I would wince, and my stomach would knot up, reliving that old anxiety.

This morning, I awakened from an amazing dream. I dreamed that Catbert had come into my office, and that we finally had a mature, direct, heart-to-heart about what happened when we worked together. We drank tea, we talked and finally, we laughed. This dream was so vivid, specific and "real" that I woke up feeling relieved and so much lighter.

I honestly believe she came to me in my dream to resolve our conflict (which I believe is karmic and has gone on over many lifetimes but I digress) and just like that, it's over. I mean, it's gone. As much as I dredged up some old bitterness towards her for this post, that is a distant memory. I am at peace with Catbert for the first time. All is forgiven, it is truly over. All because of our interaction while I was sleeping.

Has that ever happened to you, that you had a dream that changed your mind, emotions or life in such a noticeable way? Have you ever had "lucid" dreams, when you are aware you are dreaming and can control your actions? How much do your dreams influence your waking hours?

I believe that so much more happens, and so much important spiritual work is accomplished, during our dreaming hours than we usually recognize. 

Sweet dreams, Beloveds.

I Need To Get This Out Of My System

** WARNING ** Do not read this if you are squeamish about all things intestinal or bathroom-related.

Seriously!!!

I can see you! You are wincing and bracing yourself and yet . . . you keep reading!

Please, click away, read on at your peril.

Fine. Be that way. Don't say I didn't warn you and don't you DARE tell me how gross this all is. I know how gross it is. Believe me.

I dedicate this post to Stella.

Let me preface this by stating that many people think of me as having "poise" and being "regal" and somewhat repressed and restrained . . . the label "Ice Queen" has been "lovingly" thrown in my direction more than once, by several different people. Term of endearment, I'm sure. I had them executed.

But people who REALLY know me know I am warm and can be very goofy. Anyway.

So this is a departure from Ice Queen Jayne. As much as this may sully my porcelin reputation, today, we're going to talk about some heavy shit. I may even slip in some metaphors and descriptions my "regular" (see!) readers might get. So pull up a stool and listen up.

A few years ago, my "limited purpose friend" Marsha was concerned about colon cleansing. And when I say "concerned" I mean reading about it, talking about it, fasting, taking herbs, drinking special teas, talking about all that crap some more, handing out pamphlets (seriously) and using my bathroom A LOT.

Because I had known Marsha for years, I knew she got on different kicks, became obsessed, a bit anal about whatever new interest she had, and then moved on to the next one. She was particularly interested in her digestion, nutrition and losing weight. But then she'd have a burger, pie and a milkshake for dinner (while on her gluten-free diet or whatever) and cry about being fat. I digress.

Fast forward to Saturday. I was Googling some medical symptoms [of which I will spare you. This time. Because of what's about to come out.] and I came across a site for colon cleansing. Which brought back warm memories of Marsha and me and kicking her out of my house for being a psychotic bitch. I digress again. Sometimes, these thoughts run away from me.

I began to read things on the site such as:

"If you’re  not eliminating approximately the same amount that you are eating, then what do you think happens to the remainder?  The accumulation of old, hardened feces sticks to the colon walls, inhibiting its proper function of absorbing the remaining nutrients from the fecal matter. Instead it is forced to absorb toxins from the build-up and from the parasites that make this debris their breeding ground. The passage through which the feces are forced to travel is also greatly reduced in diameter so the stools become much narrower – even as thin as a pencil sometimes."

And ah, the testimonials . . . here are a few lovely specimens:

"I am continuing to see these worms and egg sacks in my stool. A lot of them are around 4 to 8 inches long and it is so gross the way they come out."

"I lost 18 lbs in the first 14 days. I lost a round worm in the 3rd week about a foot long"

"Within a few short hours of my first dose, I began expelling large clumps of rubbery, slimy, almost seaweed-like material.  I was stunned!  Over the past few days I have seen so many colors and textures of matted, nasty smelling material that I don't even know where to begin.  Already I feel less 'stopped up' and my tummy is beginning to shrink."

"I started your product 13 days ago and although I have passed some interesting things, today I received the shock of my life. I passed a 36 inch long flat worm in my stool."

"Now, I promised myself I would not look because… well… frankly, I did not want to get scared of what I saw. But my curiosity got the best of me and I took a peek. OH MY GOODNESS! I saw what? A roundworm was clearly present!! CLEARLY!! HOLY COW I stood there in amazement! Shock! . . .Shortly before I left for work I had to go again and what did I see this time... Clearly they were eggs!! YES EGGS! Of what parasite, who knows!!"

"Within hours I was passing things that I can hardly describe without making myself nauseous.  In the last nine days since I started I have passed what seems like every color in the spectrum, every different texture from slimy and clear to thick and mucousy with small white eggs and honestly, as disgusting as it seems, I can say with confidence that in this small amount of time I have passed enough CRAP to fill up a standard sized bucket."

Oh, let me back up . . . you want pictures? Filthy monkey.

I am chagrined to admit I researched this company on some consumer websites, to eliminate the possibility that it was all fraud, to get the real poop. It seems to be legitimate and many people swear by the product. (((And I ordered some, It should be arriving any day now.))) BUT it could all be a fear-tactic hoax to get impressionable, OCD people like me to buy their products.

I will keep you posted on any new movements on this front. Like it or not. I am volunteering to be your intrepid guinea pig. No shit.