Jehovah's Witnesses in Coffee Shop Using ME as a Lesson to their Children

I am sort of shocked and wonder if I pulled this same kind of sh*t as a Witness. I already know Jehovah's Witnesses believe they are better than everyone else, what with being God's only chosen people and all that.

Well, I am sitting at my table, minding my own business. There is a group of six Jehovah's Witnesses at the next table, three adults, three kids. If their clothing doesn't indicate that they are Jehovah's Witnesses, their discussion about the "anxieties" they face, and how glad they are to "have Jehovah to lean on" is.

My laptop has some stickers on it, not anything offensive in my opinion (one is a butterfly, one says "101 North", one says "be what you are", and one says "Reading is Sexy"). As this group was sitting and chatting, and the kids were eating their bagels and cream cheese, the littlest boy, who looked about 7 or 8, suddenly gasped and pointed at my laptop. All six heads turned and looked at it, and then their eyes moved to my face. I just looked back. (If I were to guess, it was the word "sexy" that the little boy found shocking.)

This is the part that I just couldn't believe. The father turned back to his kids and said, "You have to be careful because it's all around you, things you don't want to look at." He knew I was in ear shot. He had to have known!

I'm sorry, but lessons to your children about how NOT to be while using a person within earshot as the example is REALLY CLASSY. Sign me up for one of your Bible studies right now. I want to be JUST LIKE YOU PEOPLE.

I Don't Know What to Do (aka I Do Know What to Do and Just Don't Want to Do It)

Background: my first job since moving to California was an assistant director temp position for an organization that puts on music festivals. My second job is a program assistant position at a foundation office/grant-making organization, temp to perm, and it's the current job I'm holding.

My dilemma: Which job to choose.

The details: I became permanent at my nonprofit job about a month ago. No sooner did I do that but the music festival job (also a nonprofit but so not the point right now) made me an offer I can't refuse. (Also, an offer I didn't see coming, or I wouldn't have gone permanent here.)

Except for the lack of health benefits it's a pretty sweet deal.

I've spent many restless nights working out which job my heart must follow. I have obsessed over the health insurance issue and tried to decide if I can afford to go off insurance now that I finally just got back on it. I think I know what is best for me, but I have thought that before and hindsight proved me wrong. Still, I have decided to jump. I will regret it if I don't take this chance.

But now I don't know if I can tell these people at this overwhelmingly busy office that I really can't stay. I don't know how to tell them without burning bridges, that is. I can think of four people off the top of my head who will be so affected by my departure that they may actually cry at the news. Four people!

The thing is I really must go. My skin has been breaking out non-stop since I started here full-time (about 2.5 months ago). I don't sleep at night. I spend 90% of my waking life obsessing over the burdensome workload, office politics, and if I will ever catch up and feel like I belong. That has not let up since I started. My stomach feels like it is growing an ulcer, and the ulcer is having a dinner party. Intense stress has always had equally intense physical side effects for me, in addition to the number it does on my mind. These days my brain feels like goulash most of the time. Not a pleasant feeling for a brain, actually.

Since there really wasn't an alternative in sight in terms of another job, and this whole cost of living thing is sort of a big deal, I stuck with it and gave it my all. I thought "everything happens for a reason," which is something said around my house often, and that the bugs would work themselves out because life's journey set this job on my lap. I work with some really great people! My office space is fantastic! The country setting and the nature trail are a dream! And, it's only four minutes in a car from my house. Not to mention, they provide really good health insurance.

Are these actually reasons to stay at a job? Shouldn't the thing keeping me here be that I truly enjoy my work, feel valuable and maybe even valued, and share the vision of my organization?

Even though I feel that the work done here is really important, I hate about 50% of what I do. And the other 50% that I actually really enjoy is the source of the drama and stress. And now that I have another tangible and immediate option to consider, I have been daydreaming about not getting angry phone calls from desperate people whom the health system has failed and the only one they can take it out on is me, the program assistant who had to bear the bad news that their grant was [declined/reduced/not coming for another two weeks/enter other bad news here].

Does this make me a bad person for feeling this way? Am I selfish to understand that there is a reason I don't work in the health care field, that I just am not cut out for it, and that I take it personally every time I have to relay to a person why we can't help them? I want to help people, but at my personal expense? No one is taking care of me, and since I started working here that includes me. If I don't take care of me, who will?

OK, my boyfriend/partner/best friend/that guy I live with has been taking good care of me, but that is wearing on him as well, and besides he has all of his own drama to deal with (as does everyone, such is life). I expect him to take care of himself and lean on me for support, not rely on me 100%. It works both ways.

I know what I must do. I just don't want to do it. I feel like I'm breaking up with somebody. I guess in a way I am. It's not them, it's me. It's just that I will be totally gray within the year if I continue working here. Since I started this job I have counted six gray hairs that did not previously exist! Six! One for each of my six years of my second decade. That is too many, if you ask me! (And it's not in my head either. I showed Mike, who said I was making it up, and after investigating said gray hairs, he called me his old lady. Har. But then said I look sexy no matter what. That's a little better.)

I don't really feel like my unhappiness at my current job has anything to do with the other job, other than the other job being on the table provided me the ability to look at this current situation in a different, more honest (I think) light.

Well I haven't posted on this blog in so long that I really doubt anyone is listening. Sometimes it helps to put it out there and hope someone will read it. Are you listening, God? It's me, Naomi.

I could really use some advice here, but beware, I only want you to say what I want to hear. :-) Lucky for you, I have no idea what it is that I want to hear, so you're actually pretty safe here if you want to venture out and run my life.

Any takers? Anyone, anyone? It might actually be fun to run someone's life, even if only for a decision or two. You should try it.

P.S. I just rescheduled a meeting with my manager because I wanted to run this by some friends I trust first. Please, friends, HELP ME OUT!!!! I am not sure that I'm thinking clearly, on account of the deliriousness I'm feeling due to the sleep deprivation.

Do Dreams Mean Anything?

I had a strange dream last night where my ex-boyfriend from high school whom I haven't seen since high school stole my new glasses and gave them to his wife. I cried, pleaded, begged for him to return my specs. He said he would, but never did. It was humiliating.

What the hell does this mean?!?

The Demise of My Family, as I See It

(Note: Some words in this post may seem strange. Most likely that is because they are Jehovah's Witness brand words. I tried to define some, but some I left with no explanation. The feel of this post is from my heart and some of the teachings I touch on, i.e. the paradise teaching that the JW's promote, are written as if they are my personal belief system. I make no claim that I either believe or disbelieve in these teachings, but for the feel of this piece I want it written as though I do.)

My life is quite wonderful. I just landed the most awesome job in my new home and am finally meeting people. My partner and I are adjusting to our new lives together and are doing better than ever and are more in love than ever.

Then what do I have to complain about? Well, because I want to call my parents, to tell them my good news, to tell them about my wonderful job, to tell them how well I am starting to adjust here, 2000 miles away from my hometown. Only they would not even want to hear it. They would not be proud of any supposed accomplishments. They are not accomplishments to them.

I know a lot of people have it worse than me. I know I have nothing to be so sad about. I just can't help it sometimes. I miss my mom and dad. I feel ripped off of my parents. I feel that this is completely unjust and that this is the worst religion ever, to force families apart like this. I used to feel so lucky/blessed everyday that my siblings and I grew up and all still came home every weekend to have dinner at my mom and dad's house, that lots of families couldn't get further away from one another. But not us, we loved each other, enjoyed each other's company, made it through the turmoil of growing up, and all loved being a family and being together.

This has not been the case since my brother got disfellowshipped (Jehovah's Witness word for excommunicated from the religion), only months after I was reinstated (I had been disfellowshipped and had just been accepted back into the religion) for the second time. My family slowly deteriorated and now we are mostly separated, like we are not even a family anymore. I blame the religion 100% for this. My brother made mistakes. I made mistakes. We are not bad people, not at all. We are human.

When my brother told me he and his new wife were getting disfellowshipped and why, I started having serious doubts about my religion. I started this downward spiral into depression. I was desperate. I started to talk to some trusted friends who encouraged me to start building a support network outside of the JW's, as they knew what was going to happen if/when I came to a decision to make a new life outside of/away from the Jehovah's Witnesses. They knew I would lose my entire network of family and friends with whom I was raised.

I started to build that network and gained some of the best friends I've ever known. Then things got really hard with my JW friends and family and out of selfish desperation I tried to end my life. My mom thinks it's because of the guilt associated with having "worldly friends" and from missing meetings. She can't believe that it's completely the opposite of this, that the hurt and pain I felt was a result of utter confusion in seeing terribly wrong things happen in the religion I believed with all my heart to be the true religion with Jehovah God's backing, of seeing good and kind-hearted people mistreated on a regular basis, of seeing corruption within the organization. Mom would tell you that it's an organization that is made up of imperfect people and you can't expect perfection from such people. But the ways in which I was repeatedly disfellowshipped, as well as many of my close personal friends tell me that they expect perfection out of their "flock." It's a double-edged sword, in my opinion. How can you let the elders do the most disgusting things, and then punish the congregants for being human? How can you believe that is what Jehovah God would ever want in his name people?

My mom said something to me months ago that gave me a flicker of hope. She said "It HAS to be the truth. Otherwise all that we have sacrificed and worked for the last 30 years would be for nothing." I can't even begin to understand the fear and guilt my mom and dad would experience if they ever changed their minds about the Jehovah's Witness faith. This makes me feel for them so deeply. I feel such personal shame at how I have treated people in the name of Jehovah. But those people were not my own children. But the thing is, I never for one second blame my parents. My parents were victims. My parents believed something with all their hearts and brought their children up with a view to a paradise, a better future. My parents only wanted the best for us.

So my biography on a particular discussion forum frequented by many former Jehovah's Witnesses was pretty pithy and I decided it needed a bit of elaboration. Because I want anyone who might read it to know that I appreciate what my parents did. That I think they are wonderful. That I think they did the best they could with what they knew. And I'm actually continuing that tradition. I learned things about the Jehovah's Witnesses that made it personally vital for me to separate from the organization. I am doing the best I can too.


So this is my new biography:

Born to Jehovah's Witness parents in 1981, my parents raised me the best way they knew how, with my siblings' and my best interests at heart. I got baptized in 1997 at the age of 16, and though it technically was voluntary, there was a lot of internal pressure to do it, and a lot of responsibility that no 16-year-old could ever be prepared to live up to. I was disfellowshipped for the first time in 2001 as a result of being an honest-hearted person who came forward to heed James 5:14-16 (which reads, 14 Is there anyone sick among YOU? Let him call the older men of the congregation to [him], and let them pray over him, greasing [him] with oil in the name of Jehovah. 15 And the prayer of faith will make the indisposed one well, and Jehovah will raise him up. Also, if he has committed sins, it will be forgiven him.) I was disfellowshipped for trying to make things right with Jehovah and ensure I'd be in paradise with my family after making honest human mistakes. The elders that time told me they knew I was repentant, but they had to make an example out of me. I don't see that anywhere in the Holy Scriptures. I was reinstated in 2001, six months later. I was publicly reproved in 2002 for coming forward voluntarily yet again, disfellowshipped in 2003 (this set of elders told me that I was a repeat offender and had to be disfellowshipped because of my track record - do you remember the first time what I was told? If they had shown me mercy and reproved me, repentant that they knew I was, I would not have been a repeat offender), reinstated in 2005 (after writing and pleading and meeting with elders over a dozen times and cutting off all association with everyone, living in complete solitude and battling a very deep and very scary depression). My mom and dad, though they are wonderful people, are unable to understand where I'm coming from because of the fear of what that understanding implicates. I understand this needs to be The Truth for them. I believe with all my heart and soul that our religion almost killed me. I'm done with the mind games, I'm done with the man-made rules, I'm done with the judgment, I'm done with the conditional love. I have to hope that one day Mom and Dad will decide to just love me as their daughter, regardless of what my belief system is, regardless of what their belief system is. That's what I believe Christ Jesus would do if he were in their position. I believe I'm a wonderful person, someone they would be proud of if they knew me. I'm proud of me.

INKED!

Done Saturday, May 5, to commemorate my 26th life anniversary, to remember how far I've come in terms of personal development and growth:


Inside of my left wrist.


It means Pleasant. It also means Naomi.



But mostly it means I'm my own person.

The Joylessness of Being Six (a short story)

This story is dedicated to Sonya, who has been through so much more than this. As I wrote this story, I drew on experiences of Sonya's. Sonya is a strong beautiful woman who didn't have a very good start to her life. What she has become today was against all odds. You are amazing, Sonya.

(Weekly Writing Phrase: Powdered sugar explosions rarely hurt.)

An only child, Clara often spent time with grown-ups. She sometimes wondered if she was really a grown-up too, just one who looked like a little girl and so didn't get the respect the grown-ups got.

Just all the responsibility.

One afternoon, it was sunny though she hardly noticed, Clara was helping her mother in the kitchen. They were preparing a meal for her father. Her father was a stern man, who never cracked a smile. He was always too busy to be bothered with the annoyances of a child.

Especially Clara.

As a result, Clara learned to never make a sound. She was to only be seen, and never to be heard. Furthermore, she was only to be seen doing something useful.

Playing was not useful. Drawing was not useful. Reading was not useful.

On this particular day, Clara was trying to keep herself busy while her mother grumbled to herself unhappily. Her mom's brow was creased with worry.

Clara knew better than to think it was the lasagna noodles in her hands that put her mother in this mood.

Clara also knew better than to look like she had nothing to do, or to further aggravate her mother in some other way. So she tried to determine what needed to be done. There were dishes in the sink, so she began to run hot soapy water.

Her mother seemed oblivious to her.

Being six years old, Clara should have been in school. But she didn't go to school. Her parents home-schooled her so that she could be at their constant disposal for whatever work they needed her to do.

Usually the work they needed her to do was peddle religious journals door to door.

Clara was a very serious little girl.

She was chubby, which did not help her self esteem. She was lonely because she had no school friends and rarely spent time with her church friends. Not playing anyway. They were usually "preaching the good news of God's Kingdom" too.

Clara was shaken from her too-adult-for-a-six-year-old thoughts, "Young lady! What do you think you are doing?" Her mother cried at her, exhaustedly.

Regaining her bearings, Clara realized she was up to her shoulders in bubbles and there was water running over the sink onto the old cracked linoleum floor. Oh, couldn't she do anything right?

After helping her clean up the mess, Clara's mother gave her a new job, making dessert. It was a simple cake mix and surely she could handle adding the eggs and water and mixing it. Her mother handed her a frosting recipe that required a few more ingredients, but otherwise was simple enough for a six-year-0ld.

Or so her mother thought.

As Clara measured out the ingredients, her mind began to wander again. She thought of things she dare not, places she only dreamed of being. Anywhere but her house. Anything but this life.

Clara saw movement in the corner of her eye. It was the family cat. She wished with all her might that she could have been the cat. Her parents adored the cat. They never yelled at the cat. The cat would curl up in her father's lap.

Clara's dad never even hugged her. She hated the cat.

The frosting recipe called for powdered sugar. Clara had to climb up onto a chair to reach it in the cupboard. The plastic Tupperware where the sugar was usually kept was empty. She noticed a new plastic bag tucked into the corner and pulled it out. She turned to ask her mom for help opening it, but her mother had such a scowl on her face and was stuck in her own little world. Clara decided against interrupting her mother.

Maybe if she wasn't only a little girl, Clara would have thought to use a pair of scissors to open that bag of sugar. But she didn't. And when the bag finally did give, it exploded everywhere. Clara exploded too, big hot tears stinging her cheeks.

"Clara, powdered sugar explosions rarely hurt." Her mother cackled at her.

Since Clara never knew if she would be spanked or laughed at when she did
something stupid, this comment only made her cry harder.

Her mother was right. Powdered sugar didn't hurt. Nothing hurt like the joylessness of life.

Incoherent Lucidity (a poem)

Weekly Creative Writing Phrase:
The only disembodied voice I can stand is my own

Incoherent Lucidity

I often have nightmares.
I dream that I'm watching my life. As if it's a TV show.
Only it's different somehow.

I watch myself do something interesting or boring.
I don't even care to see what I'm doing.
But somehow I can't look away.
It's like I'm a car accident.
Only I'm just in a dream.
That's why it's a nightmare.
I can't look away.

Sometimes I hear a whisper.
It's not always someone I know.
It's not always in the form of a whisper.
I hate the anticipation of finding out.
I just want to wake up.

I don't understand what is going on.
I don't know why they are talking about me.
As if I am not even there.
As if they are in my line of view.
As if they even exist.

It is confusion that brings me to this point.
When all I want to do is sleep.
I wish to just wake up.
I want the voice to stop.
I try to find its source.
There is no one there but me.

When will there be a reprieve?
Will my consciousness attend this party?
I speak up and tell the others to go away.
The only disembodied voice I can stand is my own.
But even that sounds like a ghost to my dreaming ears.
I am afraid I can't wake up.
I am afraid.
I wish I understood.

More Writing Practice Fun from "The Cool Kids Writing Club"

So yeah, Russell provides a phrase and we all write a thing.

Here are a few phrases I missed out on because I was too busy being in California with my absolutely delightful boyfriend walking hand-in-hand and staring at the ocean.

Too much? Yeah, I think perhaps I could have gotten the point across without adding in the hand-in-hand part. But, oh well.

So...

Phrase: "How can I trust my own memory?"

I wrote this:

I thought I left it there, but nothing sat in its spot.
I thought I left it here, but here it isn’t.
I thought I remembered distinctly setting in on that spot high up nearly out of reach.
How can I trust my own memory when I make up such distinct thoughts?
This is why people blame things on made-up gnome-like creatures.

Phrase: "five out of ten experts agree"

I wrote this:

You might think that work is overrated.
But five out of ten experts agree that you are wrong.
Who are these “experts,” you want to know?
Well that is sort of beside the point, I think.

"The Cool Kids Writing Club" Weekly Submission - The Phrase: The Love Muscle is Open For Business

This reminds me of one of those bad jokes about three *somethings* walking into a bar. "A scallop, seahorse, and shrimp walk into a bar…the scallop says, 'Hey ladies, the love muscle is open for business!' A girl throws her drink at him and says, 'Clam up!'" Hardy Har Har.

But here is my "real" submission:

Mollusks Have Needs Too

Scallop says to Seahorse, "I wish I had a girlfriend to kiss."
Seahorse says to no one in particular, "I love my girlfriend."
Shrimp says to Seahorse, "You made up your girlfriend."
Seahorse says to no one in particular, "I kiss her face."
Shrimp says to Scallop, "We can do something about this."
Scallop says to Shrimp, "But what."
Seahorse says, "I am hungry."
Shrimp says, "There must be something we can do."
Scallop says, "Ah, but what can we do except wait for someone to float along."
Seahorse says, "Anyone want to go to a movie?"
Shrimp says, "I’ve got this friend."
Scallop says, "Noooo, please don’t set me up, I’d rather be alone on Valentine’s Day than set up! How humiliating."
Seahorse opens his mouth to talk but is interrup-Shrimp says, "Don’t be ludicrous! I am not going to set you up!"
Scallop says, "Then what?"
Seahorse wanders off to find a captive audience, or some food. Or a koala bear.
Shrimp says, "My friend has this service."
Scallop says, "A service?"
Shrimp says, "Yeah, a business."
Scallop says, "What kind of business?"
Shrimp says, "Well it’s sort of a dating thing."
Scallop, "A dating thing? What kind of thing?"
Shrimp, "Well just come with me."
Scallop, "This sounds fishy to me. No pun intended."
Shrimp, "Well it is. But I mean what have ya got to lose?"
Scallop, "What about you? You don’t have a girlfriend!"
Shrimp, "Who are we talking about here?! You, or me!?"
Scallop, "I’m just saying."
Shrimp, "Anyway."
Scallop, "Fine. What is this business? Who is your friend?"
Shrimp, "Follow me."
Seahorse, "Hey guys! Over here!"
Scallop, "So…the other way then?"
Shrimp, "Here, it’s this way, and you are gonna love it."
After rounding some corral reef…
Scallop shouts, "YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME."
Shrimp, bewildered, "What!?"
Scallop, incredulous, "That’s the worst pun I have ever seen"
Shrimp, annoyed, "What is it with you and puns today?"
Scallop, equally annoyed, "I cannot believe you thought this would be a good idea!"
Shrimp, impatiently, "Just go in."
Scallop, in disbelief, "The Love Muscle!? How can I go into a place called The Love Muscle!??!"
Shrimp shrugs, "What? The Love Muscle is open for business. It’s worth a shot."
Scallop, dejectedly, "This is the worst Valentine’s Day of my life."
Shrimp, amused, "It’ll be cute to tell your grandkids you met at a place called The Love Muscle."
Scallop, not amused, "Har har. Why are we friends again?"
Shrimp, so over this conversation, "Yeah. I’m gonna go find Seahorse. But you have fun in there."

Relationships Shouldn't be Compared...

But

every other boy i've ever dated
i've wondered
WHY THE FUCK AM I PUTTING UP WITH THIS SHIT

With you
I think
This can't be real
This is amazing
You are incredible
I've known you but a short time
yet
not once
have you shown me
even a glimpse
of mistreatment

You are what a man should be.

I know a good thing
when
it kisses me on the lips
and
holds my hand
and
wipes away my tears
and
hugs my pain away.

The tears that you never caused.
You only make them go away.

My Boyfriend Inspires Me to Try and Write Beautiful Things

Dreadlocked Boy

All I can think of is your smiling face
All I can dwell on is my heart's space
For you there's a place
I miss kissing your face
I want your finger the outline of my cheek to trace

I want.

You are really a man, but you are My dreadlocked boy.

I wish for your touch right now

I desire
That look in your eyes
When you look into mine
Like
You are willing the stopping of time
Just
So we can keep this feeling forever
And never let go
I know
I miss you now
But forever will come
I can wait
Only two weeks
Until my forever with you will begin

And then
We can spend
Our days and our nights
Loving each other
And making our lives right
Finally we have what was missing before
That companionship and understanding
Combined with desire and longing
To make one another complete

Stuck in Sacramento! (People are Basically Good)

(This was originally written January 10, 2007)

So Monday was Travel-to-Eureka/Mike Day. I had the longest layovers. The day was uneventful, just very long. Finally it was time to board my last flight, 9:02PM Sacramento to Eureka/Arcata airport. It was a little puddle jumper, not much bigger in actuality than a charter plane. I believe there were approximately 30-45 passengers on board, pretty much full.

I was sooooo tired, and only one hour from Mike. "Just get through this last little flight," I told myself. The flight attendants took their time getting us distributed evenly for fuel reasons. They rearranged people, and eventually they ran out of cargo space and started buckling people's suitcases into empty seats.

Finally, the plane took off. I dozed off, exhausted from the day's events. I woke up when the flight attendant said we were descending for a landing at Arcata. After about 15 minutes it became apparent that we were no longer descending, but also didn't seem to be going anywhere. We were going in circles. The pilot voice: "We are in a holding pattern. The fog is so thick down there that we cannot even see the runway. We will do our best to land here, folks, but if the fog doesn't move within the next 10 minutes, we are heading back to Sacramento."

If there was a time in my recent life that I prayed, I guess this would qualify as it. I wished to myself over and over and over again, "please let us land, please let us land please let us land please please please please, he's just right down there in his truck waiting for me. PLEASE, I just need to hug and see Mike." I repeated this over and over and over again in my head, with my eyes squeezed shut. I can't remember the last time I wished and hoped and "prayed" so hard for something in my life. I don't know who I was directing it to, but it doesn't seem anyone was listening.

Well the pilots circled the plane for another solid 10 minutes, and then decided we were going to run out of fuel if we did not head back to Sacramento. The fog was too thick. These guys make this shuttle run from Arcata to Sacramento twice daily. Fog is a way of life in Arcata. The crew knew their stuff. If they didn't feel right about it, it wasn't going to happen.
I bit back tears, and had I not been reading Off the Map, I would probably not have had any sense of adventure. I was just too tired, and missing Mike so much. But I tried to be optimistic about it. "This will definitely be a learning experience," I told myself.

So after two-and-a-half unneccessary hours in the air, we landed back in Sacramento. The airline rebooked us for various flights in the morning, and then we were completely on our own. Some people got hotel rooms. Other people were opting to hang out and try to sleep in the tiny Sacramento airport. Some of us didn't even get the direct flight the next morning. I was going through San Francisco, and would get to Arcata around 10:30 the next morning! 12.5 hours after I was originally supposed to arrive there. Two more hours on planes, and nearly eight more hours sitting in airports.

Fuck that.

There was this guy, a middle-aged, quirky-looking, seemingly nice gentleman who was on my plane, calling out for people who might be interested in a one-way car rental and a 5-6 hour drive to Arcata. I was on the phone to a sleepy, equally-sad Mike who seemed leery of the idea. I had been reading a book about two girls who backpacked and squatted their ways across Europe, with nary a penny. So I was in a trusting-humankind kind of mood. I hung up with a sleepily protesting Mike, promising to call him back. I called out to the man that I was interested, out of 30-some people on our plane there had to be others.

We rounded up four other folks, who all seemed hesitant, but we sold them on it, 'it is an adventure, an opportunity to know people we might not otherwise meet or know. We would get home around 5 or 6AM. It would only be about $20-$30 a person, and this ordeal could be over. We wouldn't be spending any more time in airports!'

So we shuttled to the side of the airport that had the car rental counters and split up to attack all the various rental companies at once. All of the other places were unavailable, and I called out from the Avis counter to my new cohorts "we've got a minivan over here for $130 one-way, plus tax and gas."

We had all managed to locate our checked luggage, so we loaded up our new means of transportation, made introductions, and climbed our haggard, travel-weary bodies into the van. Jeff, the college professor at HSU, was our first driver. Everyone was from Cali, all going home after holiday-related travel. They knew immediately from hearing my "accent" that I was from the mid-west.

There is no way I can give this experience justice by trying to explain what happened. The conversations that occured. The camaraderie. The bad jokes. We all came out of this less-than-ideal experience having exchanged email addresses and phone numbers, with promises to keep in touch. We left each other just a little bit richer than the night before. I've already got friends in California.

When Mike met us at 5:30AM at a gas station in Fortuna, California, my new friends quietly informed me that we were driving right by his place and could have dropped me off an hour later. He had gone out of his way to meet me and get to me sooner. "That's about as nice as it gets," my new HSU student friend Sam said. He was right.

So the circumstances my first night in Cali were less than ideal. I got to Mike six hours later than I was supposed to. But I was raised to believe that people were basically bad inside, that you can't trust them, that everyone is only looking out for their own best interest, and screw you.

But what occured in that van over the six-hour impromptu road trip, proved to me otherwise. That my parents are wrong. That people are not only basically good inside, but when you work together and have a common goal it can make for a downright amazing experience.
When I mentioned that I'm considering moving to northern Cali, my car companions had nothing but wonderful things to say about the people here. They said if I want a chance to heal, clear my head, and learn about myself free from judgment there is no better place.

Now Mike is "nagging" me (he totally is not a nagger) to run an errand with him. So I gotta jet, y'all. This place is a paradise. My Mike is my perfect man (glass artists have the patiences of a saint, seriously), and if I didn't have to, I wouldn't even go back. Until this morning, I didn't even have a return flight - United canceled it when I didn't show for my rebooked flight the next morning (good work, travel agent, I totally knew this, but my exhausted brain couldn't comprehend anything but going to sleep). Thankfully I went to the Arcata airport, and explained to them what happened. They immediately reinstated my return flights with no issue.

Love y'all. This is one happy girl!

OK so I just got this email from my new friend Sam, sent to all in the minivan Monday night/Tuesday morning. I think it's a nice testament:

"here's to long conversations in the dead of night. Jeff, did you make it tothe Gate pres? I was up at 10:00AM, too much energy drink, and i thought of you. Naomi, i hope you end up following what your heart tells you,regardless of the consequences. As Joseph Campbell said - Follow Your Bliss! Kevin and Dory, call me at xxx-xxxx if you guys want to double datesometime. And to the future firefighter, and the one with the best story,your dedication and perseverance serves as an excellent example to the rest of us. Thanks for finishing the deal Jeff, I'll see you on campus.Sam"

Cheers, y'all. It's Thursday morning in Cali and it is fucking cooooold! But the highs have been between 50-60 each day and Mike promises it will warm up today as well!

I'm out.

Eggplant Eyes, A Short Silly Poem

So "The Cool Kids Writing Club" (that's what I call it) works like this: Russell supplies a weekly phrase, and we each write a thing.

The phrase: Just don't tell him his eyes look like eggplants.

My poem:

Words of Wisdom for Creating a Romantic Moment

You can tell him he is your darling peach
You can tell him he is the apple of your eye
You can tell him he's the cream in your coffee
Just don't tell him his eyes look like eggplants

You can say he's your bread and butter
You can say he's your toast and jam
You can say he's your pina colada
But nobody wants to be compared to eggplant

What happens if you say he's better than chocolate?
What will he think if you choose him over cake?
What if you forget about your sugar addiction for a second?
I think he'll like it and think you're sweet. Unless you call him an eggplant.

You can say he's the peanut to your butter
You can tell him he's the star to your burst
You can let him know he's the M to your M and the Best to your Friend
But whatever you do, don't say he's the egg to your plant!

WHY I Can't Be a Vegan

grilled cheese

chocolate cake

butter

turkey sandwiches

egg and cheese croissant sandwiches from Sophia's on Sunday mornings

caramel banana cake

cake

cake

cake

cheese curds

swiss cheese

cheddar cheese

meunster cheese

fried cheese

fresh seafood

omelettes

cream in my coffee

fresh organic milk

chicken enchiladas

cheese enchiladas

banana cream pie

What have we learned? That if I was Vegan I'd be skinny!

poems i wrote in cali

GOING HOME

Going Home
Makes me sad
I don't want to feel so bad
Mike is sweet
he makes me feel complete
I wish I could stay here
Oh that would be a treat
But alas
This too shall pass
And then I can start my new life
In paradise, by Michael's side
With matching boots and matching stride
With so much joy and love and pride
That's how it will be
But first I must go home.



HOW I FEEL

Full of love and laugther
Happily ever after

But first a small reality check
Responsibilities must be met

A day of travel away from Cali
back to Madison where there's a tally

Of all the things I have to do
Until I can find my way back to you

Here in Cali is where I'll leave my heart
Until you and I can make a new start

We will make love and play
Hike in the woods or on the beach everyday

Plan together, work together
Play together, be together

And never take for granted
These initial feelings that we both planted



RED-EYE

Switched my flight
Now I can stay

For one more beautiful wonderful day

With my baby
He drives me crazy

In a super fantastic delightfully good way



I WISH

I didn't have to go
I wish I could stay
I wish I knew
What will BE after this day
Not exactly
Because no one knows that
But a hint would be nice
Do I have what it takes
Am I on the right track?
Can I do my part to make this work?
Or will one or both of us end up hurt?
I guess that is a chance I have to take.
Because the alternative is to not try to make
A life, a home, a new start
And that would not be true to my heart
So I guess my mind is made up
I have no choice but to stand up
And be me, live my life, follow my bliss
Which means, Cali, here I come 'cause all I want is THIS.

I ONLY HAD ONE CHOICE

they said do more service
they said give more comments
they said do better
they said do more
they said it's never enough
they said you shouldn't be comfortable

they said the end is near
they said Satan the Devil controls the world
they said anyone not on God's side is on Satan's side
they said we are on God's side
they said we are the only true religion
they said don't look at the internet, it's run by Satan trying to mislead you

they said no school dances
they said no soccer matches
they said no birthday cake
they said the wine and bread you must not take
they said Jesus didn't die for YOU
they said no college too
they said no independent thinking
they said study your watchtower harder
they said start more Bible studies
they said donate more money to the Watchtower Society
they said join the Theocratic Ministry School
they said don't make friends at school
they said don't talk to those who have left
they said tell the elders if you sin
they said shun your friends and family if they make mistakes
they said don't you dare eat birthday cupcakes
they said don't stand for the pledge of allegience
they said don't accept blood transfusions under ANY circumstances
they said don't read the Bible without gaining understanding from the Watchtower
they said if you see your friends doing wrong, tell the elders about it, it's for your friends' own good
they said go to five meetings every week or God will kill you in Armageddon
they said you are a good for nothing slave
they said what you do is what you ought to have done
they said don't think more of yourself than is necessary to think

they drill into your head that you are evil and terrible if you make human mistakes
until you go to them for help and healing
and they cut you off from your everyone you know
make an announcement about your evil unrepentant ways
and teach everyone around you to shun you and think bad thoughts about you
then make you jump through hoops for years in order to reinstate your good standing
all for going to them as shepherds for help
help for making mistakes
help for being human

they said don't question us we are Men of God
they said don't question the teachings printed in the Watchtower they are infallible
unless there is "new light" but that comes from us, not from you
they said guard against independent thinking
they said you must not go to a therapist for help
they said don't report anything to the law - it's a poor reflection on Jehovah
they said don't do this and don't do that but do this and do that
and then they said why are you bogged down
why are you depressed
perhaps you should read your Bible more
perhaps you should read the Watchtower more
pray more
go out in service more
it's your fault you are sad
it's Satan targeting you because of your bad attitude
Satan saw a weakness
you need to strengthen yourself
why are you feeling sorry for yourself
it's your fault that people will not invite you
it's because of your past
you created your own life for yourself

i jumped through all their hoops
i played by all their rules
i did what i was told
i didn't ask any questions
i minded my own business

it's not enough they say
it's not good they say
it's not right they say
you're lazy they say

i thought Jehovah forgave me when they deemed me worthy of being one of them again

they say don't vote - we are not of this world
they say don't do charity work unless it's to preach door to door
they say God will handle everything in due time and to wait on Jehovah
they say you have a bad attitude if you get tired of waiting on Him
they said they were God's people
they said they were good
they said all other people were bad
don't trust them
they said there are six things Jehovah hates, seven things detestable to Him
lying is one of them
and then they lied
and they lied
and they lied





until finally I said
i don't want to live this way
i don't think i want to stay
i just cannot do what you say
the only winning move is not to play

and then i walked away

The Landscapes Photo Blog - northern Cali Trip January 2007