Don’t wait

I have been reminded again of how fleeting and unpredictable our time here is. There are no guarantees. There is no way to prepare for death. It just comes.


Our demise is an ultimate certainty, but the timing is not. The knowing of the when will always be a mystery.


It is that unknowing factor that makes it important to not put off your life. Take the time to find the joy in everyday. Don’t wait.


Be kind to those around you. If you love them, tell them. Don’t wait.


Do not just exist in this world, truly live in it. Don’t wait.

Book Review: "True Porn Clerk Stories" by Ali Davis

At some point in our lives we have all had to do a job that we may have thought was beneath us or somewhat distasteful. A job we took out of necessity rather than desire because, unfortunately, the bills don’t pay themselves. Ali Davis was trying to make a living as a freelance writer and a performer in Chicago. Anyone who has tried to work freelance knows how difficult that can be. Davis took a job as a video store clerk originally as a temporary gig during a period where she was not getting enough freelance work to pay the bills. In addition to regular videos, this particular store rented adult videos in a restricted section in the basement. Davis didn’t expect to stay as long as she did. Nor did she expect to have her own conceptions of the porn world altered.

Davis began to write of her experiences online in a journal which eventually evolved into this book. It was an environment rich in characters some of whom were rather unsavory. From those Davis describes as dirtbags...

"There is, as you might expect, a healthy intersection between dirtbags and heavy porn renters.

I think it is partly due to the expense involved in porn addiction – scamming is a way to cut corners – and partly that anyone renting six hardcore videos every single day of his life has already said his goodbyes to the laws of society. But you’d be surprised: not all porn addicts are dirtbags and not all dirtbags rent porn."

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to the individual who would go into the straight porn section, take out a hand mirror and would apply makeup for an hour. No one knew why.

"Nobody’s thought of an answer yet, and we’re not really sure we want to toss him for loitering. He is, after all, just putting on makeup.

But why in our porn section? It has such harsh fluorescent lighting.

I’m sure we’ll find out eventually. I can’t wait."

What impressed me most about the book was that Davis could have easily taken an entirely negative approach and written exclusively on the seamy side of the porn culture. But Davis doesn’t do this. In a way it is almost thoughtful and insightful. And most importantly to me, she doesn’t judge anyone. Instead at times Davis almost seems as if she is trying to understand them.

"What the porn section has taught me that I think many women don’t understand is that porn is a physical thing for guys, not an emotional one. It seems to be a quick, physical release. It is a way of feeling good and making sure the plumbing is still in working order and that is about it. With the exception of the addicts, I don’t think it has any more significance than grabbing a burger when you’re hungry or standing up and stretching when you’ve been trapped in a car all day."

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Ali Davis has long since left her job as a clerk in a video store and is now living in Los Angeles. She now has a 9 to 5 job, but still freelances. Monday through Friday she also writes a column for 365Gay.com called “RachelWatch” in which she analyzes "The Rachel Maddow Show” on MSNBC from the previous night. She is a working writer, but still a struggling one. You will not find this book in a brick and mortar bookstore. Davis chose to self-publish and the book can be found on Amazon.com

In the interest of full exposure, I feel it necessary to tell you that I know Ali Davis through the online site Twitter. I had been following her for awhile and bought the book in August. We occasionally share bits of conversation through “tweets.” Just last week she remarked that the book was being offered used on Amazon.com for $28.77, which is kind of strange as the book only costs $10.00 new, also on Amazon. Through the course of the conversation, I asked her if anyone had ever reviewed the book. It was something I had considered back when I first read it, but I got too busy with school. She said no. Someone had offered to, but like me, was too busy. At that point, I offered to write a review.

Anyone who writes online, or in any venue, knows the terror of putting your words out there for all to see. Many of us do it for free on our blogs and dream of that someday when maybe we will write that book that is inside us. Ali Davis did it, on her own, the hard way, without the big publishing companies. But, in doing it this way, she not only self-publishes, she also has to self-promote the product. This is why I am doing this review. I have a great deal of respect for someone like Ali Davis who takes a chance and does it on her own. But, I also do it because it is a damn good book and well worth reading.

Thankful?

I have struggled greatly this week with the whole concept of Thanksgiving. Life has been so confused and filled with stress, especially after my accident in late August. But, then I think back to a year ago at this time. When my co-workers and I were facing an uncertain future with an impending lay-off. We all went our separate ways, but are essentially still together though now mostly online, virtually.

And I guess really, the future will always be uncertain. What is important is how we approach it. We could cringe, cry and complain along the way or we can bravely go forth and take all that life has to offer. It is not all good, but that’s alright as there needs to be a balance. In looking back now, I am thankful for those friends, both virtual and those in my everyday life. You all helped me through the uncertain times in the past year in some way. Some days I leaned on you, other days you leaned on me. And of course, there were those days where we simply propped each other up.

So thank you friends, old and new, for giving me something to be thankful for. I consider myself truly blessed to know each and every one of you!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Mary

Sadly, I am here once again; awake in the middle of the night. Well, I guess it could now be called early morning. This time, however, it is by design. For some ungodly reason, I agreed to do an awake overnight.

I think I have built up a tolerance to caffeine; it just does not work anymore. I think I have had four cups. It is not touching it… no buzz at all. Just flat-out tired and getting worse as each minute passes.

Lately, I have been suffering from insomnia. Now I have the opposite problem. It is a struggle to keep my eyes open. I am out of practice doing this. For most of my adult life I have worked overnights. The trick is to keep moving and hopefully get enough sleep before you come in. I can’t remember the last time I slept more than five hours at a time. Lately, it has been only about three.

I warn you now, this may not be grammatically correct. Frankly, I really don’t care. I was trying to do homework earlier, rewriting and revising copy for my editing class. I was trying to cut some of it to tighten it up, but I think I ended up with more. I can’t wait until this semester is over. I am tired of homework.

I wish I were not so unsettled.

One of my favorite things about working overnights at this house is the sunrise. There is a marshy area behind the house. I would always go out on the deck and just watch as daylight emerged and would just listen. It is so quiet; sometimes just a slight breeze would rustle the leaves. In the spring and summer you could hear the birds, not sure how many are still around. It hasn’t been really cold yet. But, it was cold enough last night that I had to scrape my car windows before I could leave.

I wonder, what time will the sun rise?

I can’t believe I am awake. My sleep has been so screwed up this week. I am not sure why, but usually when I cannot sleep it is because something is bothering me.

I have always been one to hold something inside. Play it cool as if nothing is wrong. Never let yourself be vulnerable, at least not on the surface. Do your crying inside.

That kind of thinking eventually catches up with you. I know better, but old habits are really hard to break. Just like old friendships. You may no longer have anything in common. But, it is the history that keeps you coming back.

One plus to waking early is that I have seen some really great sunrises. However, that does not appear to be the case today. It is another grey day here in Minnesota. But the overcast and drizzly sky reflects my current mood. So it is appropriate.

I am thinking that over the next few days I will be turning over some big rocks here buried deep within in my mind. It is far better than tripping over them in the dark as I have been doing in recent days. There is need now to find what is hidden. I must grab the fleeting thoughts that tease and torment me and serve only to disturb my sleep. And I really need to sleep again.

NaNoWriMo - 2009

Have you ever wanted to write a novel? Yeah you… be honest now. You know you have a story to tell. Well here is your chance. November is National Novel Writing month. NaNoWriMo is a writing competition in which the participants attempt to write 50, 000 words between Nov 1st and Nov 30. It would be approximately the equivalent of 175 pages. This year I am doing it.

I know what you are thinking now, just a little crazy! Yeah maybe so, but it is something I have wanted to do since I first heard of the competition several years ago. But, I was always too busy with life or something. This year is no exception. November will be crazy for me again. It is the last month of fall semester and my projects will be due. I also will be updating my resume and looking for a full time job again. However, I am not going to let any of that stop me this year.

My plan is to try to write approximately 1750 to 2000 words a day. I know there will be days where I cannot write that much because of homework and other obligations. But perhaps there will also be days that I can write more.

I will update my progress weekly for Good News Wednesday and daily on my blog. Feel free to push me if you see me slacking. I am realistic enough to know that my chances of writing 50,000 words in 30 days are not good. In the first year of the competition, 1999, there were only 21 participants. Of those 21 only 6 finished with the required amount. Last year 119,301 people participated and 21,683 were successful. But for me it is not about winning. At this point in my life I am beginning to see the years go by too quickly. I don’t want to someday be wishing that I had done something more. I want to be able to say I did it.



* This article is also published on azsky13.newsvine.com

Just write, okay...

It is easier said than done. I have always wanted to be a writer. I have always expressed myself best in words. But at the same time was afraid to write. Why? I think it was because I was afraid I would reveal myself too much emotionally. That everything I have wrapped up inside me would come tumbling out. People would look and see me for who I really was and reject me.

We all have our faces. We project an image of the part of us we want the world to see, the good part of us that we deem acceptable. We are on our best behavior whether at our jobs or with friends. But who are we really?

I just realized I went to the singular me/I to the plural we. I am hiding from myself again in a group. Strange that I would do that as I have always felt lost in a group and yet I unconsciously write myself as part of one.

Okay… so let’s start again…

I have a face that I put on when I go out into the world. I project the image that I want the world to see, the good part of me that is acceptable. I am at my best behavior whether at my job or with my friends. But, who am I really? That is a question I have never been able to answer.

I recall a conversation I had with my oldest brother Paul on a Sunday afternoon when I was in 25 years old. I was distraught as a close friend of mine had tried to kill herself the night before. I was confused about everything that day. Her actions had rocked my world. It shook me up so bad that I questioned everything, my life, my friends and who I was.

Paul had met me for breakfast, but stayed with me the whole day. He listened as I talked. We walked all over SE Minneapolis. I don’t remember a lot of the conversation, but one piece, one idea stayed with me all these years later. I questioned who I was. I honestly didn’t know anymore. I could not find myself or my purpose. Paul told me that the way I could find myself was in the reflection of others, maybe not in those exact words.

I remember feeling quite worthless at the time. I had been unable to help my friend. I was lost and empty inside. He in a sense told me to find myself in other people. How they reacted to me. But doing that would require that I came out of the hard shell of hurt I had wrapped myself in. I did as he suggested, I reached out to other friends who were also hurting from the attempted suicide. I paid attention and saw myself through their eyes. I filled myself up again and moved on.

I have always had a problem with being emotionally honest. It is a fear of rejection. I disappear into myself many times before the rejection comes so I will not be hurt. But I am hurt regardless because I do not allow anyone in. I am always alone. I am lonely.

I have a fear of strong emotion. I shut myself inside and don’t allow anyone to get to close. When I was young I had a very bad temper. My brothers used to tease me for sport, just to make me mad. My temper is one of the traits that I shared with my mother. I hated when she would become angry and shout at whoever was there. I became angry with myself when I saw myself in her. I learned to bottle up these angry emotions and hold them inside. But the anger wasn’t the only emotion I held inside, all my emotion became trapped within me. I could not feel. I could not show it. It would all come tumbling out.

I know what I need to do. But it is difficult to undo years of hiding, from myself and who I really am. I need to come from behind my mask. If I don’t I will never be the writer or the person that I could be.