Yakkety Yak, Don't Talk back

The topic this week seems to be words. Too many words, the wrong words, watch your words, or lack there of. It seems that everyone has something to say about everything. At times, the words to do not even make any sense. It seems people just want to talk or hear themselves talk.

Everyone is using words of if they were going out of style. We are not even going to discuss, grammar, and spelling that is a whole separate blog. We are going to stick to the subject at hand, words. I just want to tell everyone to shut the "F" up. For the love of sanity, people. Go out, go for a walk, have a drink, buy yourself something pretty, get laid, whatever it takes to just shut up for awhile, do it.

The problem is that everyone is so consumed with themselves, they do not stop to listen to what they are saying, the impact that it has, and what everyone else has to say. Everyone has opinions. There is no right, there is no wrong, there are just different ways of looking at things. And, if you cannot persuade someone to see things your way, it is okay. Let them be.

When I was sixteen, I did a great exercise in art class. There was a model and we had to draw the model's hand. Every single person in the room had a different drawing. It was the same hand from the same model, but everyone's was different. No one was right. No one was wrong. No one was stupid because their drawing was different. They were all looking at the same hand and drawing from a different perspective.

We should apply this to our everyday lives. Everyone just sees things from their own perspective. No one is stupid, we just have different point of views, and that is okay.

What I just don't get is the name calling. The ugly name calling and insults thrown just because some one has a different perspective. It is exhausting. Why is everyone so angry? I just don't get it. Therefore, I will speak of nothing but lip gloss and shoes going forward. I'm going to exercise my right to be a dumb blond and use it to it's fullest potential.

Well, just for the weekend ... maybe.

Lucy Tamajon
Writer

Copyright ©Lucy Tamajon 2009

Love is Never Ending

Love is like the sunset
it comes;
it goes;
It lasts forever
until darkness falls.

It breathes within
the ocean;
it washes
out the sand
drifting to the sea.

It is like the seasons
changing with
the times;
coldest in the Winter
born again in Spring.

Love is never ending
like the verses of a poet
as sharp as the pen
that strikes the paper
it ends without a chorus.


Original Poetry by Lucy Tamajon

Shakespeare in Love

How crazy am I? Wait do not answer that. I am afraid to know what you really think. No, wait. I really do not care what you really think.

Last night, an old friend quoted some Shakespeare which got me started because I love Shakespeare. I fell in love with him when I first read him in 8th grade, and I have loved him ever since. Shakespeare that is, not the friend.. although, the friend is kind of cute, but I digress.

I do not really have one “favorite” play because everything he did was masterfully done. From the sonnets to the plays. Genius. Years ago, I wrote a poem, “Romeo”. Today, I still read that poem and have the same exact feelings I did so long ago. I am, at heart, the same girl I once was.

I have friends that tell me,”don't worry, you'll find someone.” I laugh because I have had great loves in my life and have no regrets when it comes to love. I have loved well.

Hence, Shakespeare with his endless knowledge about the tragedy that is love. From Othello to Romeo and Juliet where the quest for love is crushed by society's boundaries; to Anthony and Cleopatra where one man's love for one woman surpasses all human boundaries. He understood the plight, pain, and agony that is love.

I wonder how often his own heart was broken. How many lonely nights he spent wondering when “true love” would come. I think he did not have any lonely nights for men often do not; cannot experience the vast desert that can be the heart of a woman. The heart of a woman aches as no other can. We dream. We hope. We wait for that Romeo to save us, to love us, and to rescue us. But, rescue us from what exactly; perhaps, from ourselves.

Oh, Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo? Six hundred plus years later, his words of love still grab the heart of the young holding it hostage for all eternity setting the standards for romance that perhaps can never be achieved by mere mortals.

If he were here beside me I would say:

“My Lord, cursed be thy wicked ways that sets the stage for life's sweet tragedies and keeps me waiting at bay for love's sweet kiss.”

Copyright ©Lucy Tamajon 2009

"Pardon me, is this your noodle?"

It's a hot Sunday afternoon in Miami, and I decide to go and hang out at the community pool. It's a beautiful day. I get to the pool and there are barely any people there. Nice. I find a spot, settle in, grab my book, and relax. Not five minutes pass enters a family of four. The kids are adorable maybe seven and five. They grab a spot near me, and quickly my peace and quiet comes to an abrupt end.

Now, it's not the kids that are the issue. They are sitting by the steps playing with pool toys and floating around. It's not Arthur, that's the husband, I quickly learn his name from his "nagging" wife who's name must be the "Sweet Lenore" because all she does is tap, tap, tap at his chamber door. Arthur grabs a big raft and jumps in. No sooner he hits the water, the Sweet Lenore yells out for him. She has a nasal voice that makes me want to get up and, well, you know the voice. She doesn't seem to care that there are people trying to relax, i.e, me!

"ARTHUR!" She yells as she slaps on sunscreen. "Yes." answers softly. "We need to get the invitations for Jenny's party printed." She settles in her chair. I try to read. "We will." He says. "I don't like the print on that printer. Can we make it smaller and bolder. It's too big." She goes on, he responds. "I don't know, probably." I try to read. "Arthur! Did you remember to put sunscreen?" She looks as if she is going to go check and make sure." Yes, yes. I did." He lays back. I put down my book, maybe I can close my eyes and nap through this. She goes on and on.

"What about the goodie bags?" Everyone ignores the Sweet Lenore, but she just keeps tap, tap, tapping on his chamber door. "Arthur! What about the goodie bags." He looks as if he wants to submerge his head in the water, "I don't know. I just want to float. Can I float?" She looks at him, "Where's your hat?" Arthur is bald, I guess the Sweet Lenore was worried about a sunburn. "I just want to float.. I don't need a hat."

After about half an hour of this, I get up and decide to join Arthur. I walk in the pool, smile at the kids, and just float. I notice a noodle floating by. The Sweet Lenore is going on and on about pizza and prizes and guests for little Jenny's Birthday.

"Pardon me, but is this your noodle?" I ask Arthur. "Yes it is." He smiles. "Mind if I use it?" He is very nice, "Oh, no. Of course, please do." I grab the blue noodle. "Thanks. I usually bring my own, but I forgot today. Isn't beautiful today?" I smile. "Why, it sure is. What's your name?" But, before I could answer.

"ARTHUR!" it's the Sweet Lenore. "What is it!" Arthur actually snaps back. "It's time to go." She is standing by the edge of the pool. "But, why? It's early." He looks like a five year old himself. "Arthur. Get out. We need to leave." She turns around and starts gathering her stuff and telling the kids to pick up they're going for pizza.

"I guess you better go sounds like she'll put you on time out." He looks so sad, "Nice talking to you." He says. "Same here." He starts to turn to walk away. "Oh, Arthur." He turns and smiles. "Yes." I hand him the noodle. "Here's your noodle. Thanks."

And they leave. Finally. Some peace and quiet! Now, I can read my book and just relax as planned. Ain't I rascal?


Lucy Tamajon
Writer

Copyright ©Lucy Tamajon 2009

The 7th Inning Stretch

It's the 7th inning stretch. It's been a heck of a game. Action everywhere. Stolen bases, hits, runs, and errors. Ah, yes, those nasty errors that leave you completely stunned and in dismay. Errors really suck, everyone knows they cost the game. You can't go back and fix them, what's done is done.

Well, that's the mid-life "crisis" in a nutshell. Now, I really dislike that term "mid-life crisis". I call it the 7th inning stretch. It's when we realize we are half-way done with this game called life, and we can't help but come to that realization. It's not a crisis, it's an awakening. We are stunned and completely dismayed at the "errors" and the things we thought we would get done and haven't. I am not sure about anyone else, but nothing has turned out as planned. Life happens when you are making plans and usually knocks us on our asses in the process.

So, here we are faced with the fact that we're not twenty anymore but not wanting to be, well, I won't mention a number; we all know our own number. Kids move out, marriages fall apart. Men go crazy looking for twenty-year old Blond Barbie's and buy fast cars to get the twenty year old Blond Barbie's. Women get botox up the yin yang making them look like crazy-ass blow fishes. It's a mad dash to discover the fountain of youth, turn back the hands of time, and cram everything you haven't done in the last twenty years into the next three.

Of course, then you have those few select people that just cannot cope with the fact that they are older and are determined to live in the past. It's not just about reminiscing, we all do that. It's about actually being stuck in the past. It's nuts. Snap out of it!

This is a restless time for us in our lives. Our generation is a unique generation. Our parents were not faced with the challenges that we are faced with. They got married, raised a family, got old together, and "The End." Our generation does not have a game plan. We have had to figure it out as we go, and we're terrified. We cling to that which we think will bring us back to who we were.

Bottom line is that we've got all the time in the world. We are exactly where we need to be. We need to stop questioning the "whys" and "why nots"; dust ourselves off, and get right back in the game. Not living in the past, but embracing the present. Knowing that we have come a long way and accomplished much. I don't know about anyone else, but I've learned how to play a curve ball. I sit back, wait patiently, and swing. Believe me, it's not too late to hit a home run.


Lucy Tamajon
Writer

Time in a Bottle

I have had a couple of conversations with some friends regarding the time that they feel they've lost; mostly in relationships where they are not happy. I know, I do not have an answer on this one, but I can speak from personal experience. We do not lose time, we live. As we live, we learn and grow.

It's natural to glance back and wonder "what if"? I personally do not believe in this practice, but understand why we do it. I believe it is wasteful and serves no purpose. If you feel that you have stopped loving someone, it means you never loved them to begin with. We can fall in and out of love numerous times. Being in love and loving are very different things.

Pure and simple, we love when we meet our the other half of our soul. This soul completes you and compliments you. This is the soul that understands you. You don't need to talk to them ten times a day; you don't need words,; you don't even need explanations. This soul knows how you feel and what you are thinking without words being spoken. You can look into their eyes and know everything that is their hearts. You can be miles away and feel them close by your side. There is no conflict, no fighting, no arguing, no pain. There is just complete inner peace. You belong together and you know it.

When we are young it is so difficult to understand this concept. We fall in love with how the person looks on the outside. We think jealousy and possessiveness is love. We fall in love with the sexual part of love. Sex is good; well, sex is great. Come to think of it, it's wonderful; however, I digress. Let's stay on track. Where was I? Ah, yes, Love.

When we are younger, we do not realize that looks fade; jealousy is insecurity that can only breed fear; it grows and it festers. We fall in love with love. When the passion and the looks fade, we are left with the reality of the person we choose to be our companion. We realize that we have not been sharing our lives with the soul that the Master intended for us. We need someone to love body and soul; and this is not them. We fear the unknown, and settle. The more we settle, the more unhappy we become.

Time is never lost, we bottle it up. As difficult as it may be to realize this, and it will be painful to say the least, we owe it to everyone to walk away. To be kind to the stranger beside you and go your separate ways. The longer we stay in a painful relationship that drains us of all that we are, the more we lose of our souls. We may have one day, ten days, or fifty years left on our earthly journey. How do you want to spend the rest of your days?


Lucy Tamajon
Writer

Copyright ©Lucy Tamajon 2009

The Writer's Block

Sometimes, I want to write. I have so much to say, I know shocking isn't it? There are all these different conversations and ideas floating in my head. All at the same time. Again, another shocker. But, I can't get it on paper. It's not a writer's block. It's a huge cement wall that knocks me on my ass.

I have a ritual for releasing ideas. Lately, this is not even helping and the voices and conversations are way too many and too loud to even get on paper at my rapid speed. I have notes all over the place. Piles of papers and notebooks on my night table, notebooks in my purse, on the coffee table, random notes on the computer, on the calendar, planner, and on and on. It' just insane even by my standards.

My fifteen year old son who watches my insanity on a daily basis had a suggestion yesterday, "have a seminar of the minds." He said matter of factly. "What?" I asked surprised. "Yeah, that's what I do. I have mind seminars with all the voices in my head." I just looked at him in awe and thought, "Oh! No! You've inherited the voices!!!" He continued, "seminars are great because they are organized and the leader takes control. You are just having random conversations and no one is in charge."

You would think I would be worried about the fact that at fifteen my son is hearing voices and having mind seminars in his own brain, but I wasn't. I was actually listening to what he was saying because he was making sense! How weird is that! Disturbing.

Writing is all about emotions, pure and simple. It's pouring everything you've got into a blank piece of paper and hoping that you strike a cord or several cords with the readers. Not an easy task to transform yourself into other characters and experience their feelings. It's exhausting. I call it Time Traveling. I'll get into that on another blog.

For now, I'm shifting gears and scheduling a Seminar of the Minds. Hopefully, the cement wall will come down, and the emotions will pour out and onto the blank paper striking all the necessary chords creating a beautiful symphony.

Copyright ©Lucy Tamajon 2009