The Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway

My husband and I decided that we would get into a sea faring mood while driving the four hour drive to the beach from our land locked home by listening to an audiobook over our radio. We chose Hemingway's "The old man and the sea". I was familiar with Hemingway's famously masculine writing style, but this was my husband's first encounter. It was a great choice for the drive. The story follows an old fisherman who after a bout of bad luck decides he will take himself, alone, far out into the ocean in pursuit of bigger fish and better fortune. He hooks a wildly large fish and must endure great suffering by the will of strong minded perseverance to bring back his great catch. Old, alone, and facing many obstacles he must use his wit and his willingness to keep going in order to survive the adventure. Facing exhaustion, sharks, and lack of provisions the old man shows great endurance and Hemingway has an excellent opportunity to outline what he feels defines a true man. There are so many quotable moments in this story,

"But man is not made for defeat," he said. "a man can be destroyed but not defeated."

"Why do old men wake so early? Is it to have one longer day?"

"I may not be as strong as I think, but I know many tricks and I have resolution"

To name a few of our favorites. I recommend this read to anyone.

Do we still need feminism in America today?

Do we still need Feminism in America today? The role of women has shifted over the course of American history.  Examining this history defines today’s feminism, and its application. The definition of “what it means to be a woman” is not linear or stagnant, but always in motion, always shifting in its rules and expectations. 

The traditional homemaker archetype is engrained in Western culture. Women were taught that they were weaker than their male counterparts and the best method of survival came from marriage and submission. “Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord.” (Ephesians 5:22-33 King James Bible) Colonial ministers frequently lectured their congregation on the importance of the patriarchy using such passages. But, the colonial woman, in some ways, was more powerful and less expendable than today’s woman. Life in America was harsh for the Colonists. It took both a husband and wife to survive. “The colonial farmwife actually enjoyed considerable status within her family because she manufactured many of the things her husband and children needed to survive and contributed greatly to the family fortunes.” (Collins, 4) But, as our country shifted into the industrial revolution many families moved away from the wilderness and into cities. Within the cities the duties of the wife changed from self sustainment and the manufacturing of goods to housework, child rearing, and cooking. To regain their lost stature, “women were given the morality franchise.” (Collins, 5) Still seen as intellectually inferior, women were considered incapable of assisting in the competitive marketplace of the Victorian era. Men were making self serving, cut throat decisions in order to survive and women were seen as the guardians of morality in the household- not to be exposed to the corrupted world. Victorian women and children were sequestered away from the society of men. It was both flattering and dangerous for women to be viewed as so pure, yet so dependent. But despite the obvious dangers (abuse, abandonment, failure) of a woman completely dependent on a husband to protect and provide for her, this was the Western model for family structure that continued into the 19th century. 

The post civil war era brought change to the family structure. Many women were left widowed.  Widows, former slaves, and rural farmwives  were forced to work to provide for their families. But, middle and upperclass women were still, as a rule, expected to stay in the home whenever possible. This rule was not only a norm, but law, as the American legal system had regulations in place that made it impossible for women to act independently from men. 

No matter how flattering and bolstered the image of the protected, provided for, mother-wife who lived her life on the pedestal of purity and beauty could be, the reality of the thousands of abused and oppressed women could not be ignored. A call for change became organized in the United States for the first time in 1848 when a gathering focused on Women’s Rights was held in Seneca Falls. The core organizers of the Seneca Falls convention were a stay at home mother named Elizabeth Cady Stanton and an abolitionist named Lucretia Mott. About 100 people, both men and women, were in attendance and their petition was for equality between the genders. Their efforts would eventually lead to women’s suffrage and legislative changes that allowed women to begin to get their footing in the uphill climb for equality. (http://history.house.gov/Exhibitions-and-Publications/WIC/Historical-Essays/No-Lady/Womens-Rights/, July 2015) 

Despite the progress made by the Women’s suffrage movement, women continued to be treated as less qualified, less successful, and less desirable in the workplace. With the advent of television came another shift for women’s role in the household. Television and the advertisements it delivered to the population effectively modeled the “right way” to be a woman in America. By the 1950’s the middle class was moving to the suburbs. Women were encouraged to attend a college, but only to meet a well educated husband. Women were also advised to work, but only until they were married and in positions that were deemed acceptable for a woman. (Collins, 17) Commercials glorifying the triumphs of a clean house, a home cooked meal, and a cared for husband flooded American homes. Women were assured, marry right and lead a happy life. 

“A problem that has no name”- that is the signature phrase that author Betty Friedan used to describe the pervasive unhappiness that plagued American housewives in the 1960s. She investigated this national dilemma in her influential book, The Feminine Mystique. In 1957, Friedan surveyed her female former Smith College classmates at their 15th anniversary reunion. The survey was commissioned by McCall’s magazine and Friedan, a free lance writer in New York, had been asked to write an article defending the benefit of a college education for a happy, well rounded, housewife. (Collins, 58) Unfortunately for McCall, the results of her survey did not support their agenda. The majority of the women reported feeling depressed and trapped. Friedan, herself a stay at home mother of three, felt no different than her peers. So, rather than writing the article, she researched psychology and media influence to uncover what was causing all the unhappiness. Her findings were published in 1963 on the pages of The Feminine Mystique, which has been recognized as a catalyst for the second wave of feminism in the United States. (Temple, 2013)

Friedan’s work resonated with the women of the 60s because she was brave enough to write a confession that lay behind thousand’s of women’s lips- they wanted more. These women were living lives that were lavish in comparison to many cultures, but their mental health was suffering. Sylvia Plath opened a door into her troubled mind when she wrote “The Bell Jar.” Plath described a wildly successful woman for her time, a writer, living in New York after winning a writing contest, who was slowly driven into madness as she faced the dilemma of navigating through a world of contradictions. She was to remain pure, yet sexually assaulted. Her writing talent, her education, her travel would all be secondary to the importance of finding a husband. The prospect of marriage, and the meaninglessness of her accomplishments hung around her neck like an anchor. Her sadness became depression and she was institutionalized. Even in the asylum, Plath highlighted the pressure to be married would not be negated when she included a conversation between the protagonist and Buddy Willard (her former fiancé)  to ask, “ ‘I wonder who you’ll marry now, Esther. Now you’ve been… here” And of course I didn’t know who would marry me now that I’d been where I had been. I did not know at all.” (Plath, 241) Is it fiction or fact to assume having your value only measured by your marital status could have driven women of previous eras to madness?

Fast forward to today, and we see a clear divide between those who support and those who reproach modern day feminism. Author, Caitlin Moran quips, “We need to reclaim the word 'feminism'. We need the word 'feminism' back real bad. When statistics come in saying that only 29% of American women would describe themselves as feminist - and only 42% of British women - I used to think, What do you think feminism IS, ladies? What part of 'liberation for women' is not for you? Is it freedom to vote? The right not to be owned by the man you marry? The campaign for equal pay? 'Vogue' by Madonna? Jeans? Did all that good shit GET ON YOUR NERVES? Or were you just DRUNK AT THE TIME OF THE SURVEY?” (How to be a Woman, Moran) So, if the percentage Moran states is accurate, why do the majority of today’s women shy away from labeling themselves as feminist? 

In my opinion, the fear of becoming undesirable as a mother or wife is still associated with feminism. When feminism was in its early development women had to act radically to change their position in the world. Many times that meant denouncing the traditional life of motherhood and marriage. In the past, women could not have both marriage, children, and ambition. Virginia Woolf suggested that in order to be successful a woman can not spend her time caring for children and the household; but must go alone in the world with her own money and room. The full excerpt is included below. 

“Now my belief is that [Shakespeare’s sister] who never wrote a word and was buried at the cross–roads still lives. She lives in you and in me, and in many other women who are not here to–night, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives; for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh. This opportunity, as I think, it is now coming within your power to give her. For my belief is that if we live another century or so—I am talking of the common life which is the real life and not of the little separate lives which we live as individuals—and have five hundred a year each of us and rooms of our own; if we have the habit of freedom and the courage to write exactly what we think; if we escape a little from the common sitting–room and see human beings not always in their relation to each other but in relation to reality… if we face the fact, for it is a fact, that there is no arm to cling to, but that we go alone and that our relation is to the world of reality and not only to the world of men and women, then the opportunity will come and the dead poet who was Shakespeare’s sister will put on the body which she has so often laid down.” (A Room of One’s Own, Woolf)

Now, it is possible to be married, have children, and pursue a career without the prohibitive obstacles Woolf would have faced. But, even today,  the image of an unmarried, childless, woman grinding against social norms and becoming outcasted still lingers in our society when the word feminism is discussed. Modern feminism does not denounce marriage completely- it just demands that it is a partnership of equals. It does not suggest that motherhood is out of the question- it reminds women that motherhood is not the only option.  Many women still want to be married, they still want to be mothers, and they want the opportunity to pursue their academic and professional goals. These things are not mutually exclusive.

Another fear that is still associated with feminism is that it is against men. 

True feminism is not a woman’s issue, as it focuses on gender equality. It’s a human issue. Feminism is sometimes viewed as threatening to our society’s structure. It has been called emasculating for men. But, feminism has always focused on equality of the genders. Yet, there is still risk in labeling yourself in a way that many view as unpopular. 

“Feminism doesn’t really have a philosophy. It’s barely even an ideology. It’s mostly just a series of temper tantrums thrown by a small, privileged minority. And, unless it changes, it will soon be irrelevant.” (French, 2014)

If feminism did become irrelevant and we stopped progress, the U.S. would still be the only developed country with no paid maternity leave. Women’s healthcare will still depend on which political party has control. Women will continue making 77 cents on the dollar. Little boys will still be limited on their preferences for colors, toys, activities, in fear that they are too “girly”. Sexual violence against men and women will remain disturbingly high (1 in 6 American women will be raped in their lifetimes). Graphic violence, and sexualization of women will still be aired on television and the internet as if its normal. These are the reasons we need feminism. 

Relationships can thrive as partnerships. Two people contributing, growing, and enjoying one another. Men need to support women, as women need to support men, as men need to support men, as women need to support women. When  we stop battling each other, think of how we could work together. 

“But as the years went on, I realized that what I really want to be, all told, is a human. Just a productive, honest, courteously treated human.”  (How to be a Woman, Moran)

References

Collins, G. (2009). When Everything Changed. New York: Back Bay Books

Moran, C. (2012). How to be a Woman. New York: Harper Perennial. 

Plath, S.(1971). The bell jar. New York: Harper & Row.

Woolf, V. (1989)A Room of One's Own. San Diego: Harcourt, Brace & Company.

A Reading List of One’s Own: 10 Essential Feminist Books  theatlantic.com Emily Temple Feb 20, 2013

History, Art & Archives, U.S. House of Representatives, Office of the Historian, Women in Congress, 1917–2006. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 2007. “The Women’s Rights Movement, 1848–1920,” http://history.house.gov/Exhibitions-and-Publications/WIC/Historical-Essays/No-Lady/Womens-Rights/ (July 27, 2015) 

French, David Modern Feminism: Appalling stupidity backed by hysterical rage, National Review November 17 2014 nationalreview.com

the bell jar, sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar

I loved reading this one. I went into it knowing the gist: Talented and successful woman spirals into madness. This isn't a feel good read, but it is an inspiring one for a writer. The magic is in the imagery. The way Plath describes her emotions and her experience losing her mind is absolutely enviable. She has a grasp on lucidly describing the undescribable. The bell jar metaphor is only one example of her ability to illustrate and effectively transform a very illusive condition into relatable terms. She explains that no matter where she is or what is happening around her, she is trapped in her own sour air beneath a glass belp jar. Ive heard people describe a trapped feeling from depression and anxiety, but this omage of a bell jar makes the experience tangible. And that is what Plath excells at through out the novel, she translates the world of emotion into the physical world. It is regretable that the accuracy of the text is drawn from her personal struggles with mental illness.

public announcement: Give moms space. Explained with bears.

People with the best intentions may be stressing out local moms  if they do this...

I was approached by 4 people while loading my daughter and groceries into the car- an elderly couple wanted to chat about their grandchild of a similar age; a woman wanted to tell me how cute Rory's hat was; and a young man wanted to take my cart back for me. All sweet people... but in this case, maybe not.  

When a woman is alone with her baby, especially while loading or unloading groceries, it is best to give as much personal space as possible. Here's why...

It's well known that moms are protective of babies (picture a momma bear snuggled up with her cubs).

 When we are alone with the baby our defenses go up. 

When we are out with the baby and multitasking, and alone, we become just shy of paranoid (picture that momma bear holding an AK-47). 

The grocery store is a great example of a place that puts moms on guard. As we load our groceries into the car we are thinking about things like: is the car too hot to put the baby in; is the baby strapped into the car seat safely; are my keys on me so that I don't accidentally get locked out; is my purse/wallet within my eyesight; etc.

 With all the things we are considering, when a stranger approaches us we feel more alarmed than charmed by small talk. 

If you truly want to help, make sure you ask from a distance if its okay to approach. Today, the young man put his hands on my cart while the baby was still sitting in the cart. I was putting groceries into the trunk of my car. I was twisted and did not see him approach. Imagine how I felt when I turn around and there was a stranger, touching the cart my child was in. 

So, please remember, it's not that we don't appreciate your kindness or your help. It's just we are gun wielding bears at the moment. Be considerate and give us space. 

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini: In Review

The Kite Runner reads like a fable. The narrative has an old fashioned style, filled with  clearly stated moral lessons that are repeated through out. The repetition reinforces their importance.  Outside of the main protagonist, the characters are either virtuous or evil never muddled in a grey area. The themes: relationships between father and son, betrayal vs loyalty, honor, and redemption match its traditional narrative style. But, the thoroughly modern aspect of this novel comes from its relevant context and setting. Hosseini's tale weaves the reader through the last 30 years of Afghani history from a monarchy, to USSR occupation, to the Taliban.  Through the eyes of a child to the reveries of a man, the novel is filled with memorable quotes ("For you a thousand times over"- Hassan) and heart-wrenchingly relateable experiences.   As an American, and member of the 911 generation, this novel provides a needed perspective into the lives of the individual for a population that would have otherwise remained over stereotyped and generalized to me. It is an important novel for its insights, and a notably touching novel for its character development.

5/5- Amir and Hassan, the Sultans of Kabul, approved.

Mom's Night Out

 MOM'S NIGHT OUT aka Resurrecting the Before Baby You

Now, I'll preface this article by saying, I love my little lady. I am a full time momma, in practice and in heart. I spend my days singing songs, tracing her little features with my finger as she nurses, giving funny voices to her stuffed animals and book characters, and kissing her little cheeks until she pushes me away. But, of course, there's apart of me that misses my pre-baby freedoms.

 Baby girl is 8 months old. She is slowly growing more independent everyday. She eats solids: cutting nursing time down. She loves toys: so babysitters can distract her. So, I was pretty intrigued the first time I went to my (4 hour long) job and returned to a smiling baby, rather than a meltdown -where is mommy?! Daddy, you suddenly seem sinister- baby. She had let out a little slack on her mommy leash. Well, you give me an inch... I want a mile. And a mile to me means getting reacquainted with my social life! Ok, maybe the term"social life" is shooting for the moon a little bit. But, compared to my once a month trip to the coffee shop, mom groups, and the occasional dinner at our house with friends; a "social life" to me could mean "Goes to ONE party and stays for more than 2 hours" or "Has drink with 2 or more friends at bar where no babies are allowed" or even "Goes shopping for own clothes in store that does not have shopping carts". Dare to Dream.

As my head spins with the possibilities, a delicious realization strikes. MY BB FRIENDS. I COULD SEE MY BB FRIENDS!!!I like to refer to my before-motherhood friends as "BB" friends. Before Baby. Labeling my BB friends this way makes them seem like precious relics from the past. Which they are.
 Any friends I make now, especially through new moms groups and baby activities, fall into the AD friends. After Diapers. I cherish my AD friends. They are like a Ya-ya sisterhood of understanding supporters who help me get through the day to day. ...But, my BB friends... they are magical. They have a super power: Time Travel. When I see them, I feel like BB-Me.

Becoming a mom changes things and it changes you. You're still you, but you're a lot different than you use to be. Before-baby-you scoffed at the poop-centered horror stories of parenthood. You accepted that your storytelling friend may have been forced into handling poop on a daily basis, but reassured yourself that that life wasn't meant for you. That wasn't your future. You'll be the poop-less parent, potty training your offspring at 3 weeks old. Psst. Guess what. You are handling that poop, my friend. You are handling it and you'll get a sick, twisted satisfaction about your ability to handle it well. You and the baby's other caregivers will brag about the size and stink of the last diaper. That diaper you dealt with was DEFINITELY more terrible than the one someone else handled. You'll find yourself saying things like, "Oh, you think blueberry butt is bad? You obviously never fed her bananas." I don't know why dirty diaper competitiveness exists, but I know it does. And when you're busy one-upping each other over poop all day-when that seems normal- integrating yourself back into regular society can be a little challenging. BB friends don't understand the thrill of poop wars.

But, your BB friends are expecting the BB, non poop-obsessed, you. Which is fair, the BB you is who they signed up for. They didn't force you to have a baby. They didn't go and change up the game. That was you. So, it's good to put a little effort into resurrecting the BB you.

Here's how it usually goes for me:

First, I way overshoot the plans. LETS GO TO MEXICO FOR THE WEEKEND.
Then, I check myself.
Ok. Let's see a movie... IN A THEATER.
Better.
OMG!!! LETS GET A BEER FIRST! OMG!!!
I'm. On. Fire.

Then, I find myself standing in front of my closest. I'm just staring at the clothes. I've worn them many times before...it's just been awhile. Like over a year. Suddenly, I'm aware at how many pairs of sweatpants and sweatshirts are in my hamper. I redirect my attention back to the closet. The closet filled with the clothes with buttons and zippers. The fancy ones.  I could wear them again. I could match things... but... I remember, my clothes don't come as matching sets.  Which is probably a good thing. I don't think I can pull off little blue birds on every piece of clothing and accessory I have on, anyway.  Finally after an hour, I stand triumphantly in jeans, a slightly dressier than my usual sweatshirt style shirt, and riding boots. I think I'm done getting ready. My husband, gently, reminds me that people usually brush their hair and put on make up. Life is complicated, again. My hair tries to hold its pony-tail shape in defiance as I wrestle it straight. I put on lip gloss and mascara. I look at my showered, brushed, make up wearing self in the mirror.  I am Beyonce.

I'm ten minutes late to meet my friend because it took me 45 minutes to stop crying and kissing the baby. I was frozen in our nursery from a sudden surge of mom-guilt. "ARGGGG!!! SHE KNOWS I'M CHOOSING TO LEAVE HER!!!!!! SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW YOU!!!" "...i'm her father, honey..." "THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT!!!!" Once my husband shoved me out of our door, I was happily on my way.

I see my friend and instantly creep her out with my over zealous greeting. HEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!AHHHHHHH!!! HEYYYYY!!! OMG HEYYYYYYY!!!!!
Things get creepier as I sit there silently grinning and staring at her. I'm eating up every detail of her exciting non-baby life. She is way more fascinating to me than she should be.
She tries to engage me in conversation...
What's new with me? mmm... can't talk about poop... Nothing.
Did I go to that new bar yet? No.
Did I go to that new restaurant yet? No.
Did I see that new movie in the theaters yet? No. Oh, Am I going to? Is it the one we are seeing right now? No? Then no.
We establish that I don't leave my house.
Somehow, our years of friendship fill the gaps made of life-differences and lack of conversation material and we are still laughing & talking.
The movie is mediocre at best. But... I'm sitting down with out anyone needing anything from me for 2 whole hours. 
After the movie ends, my friend says, "it was great seeing you! Good time!"

I return home- back to the present. Time traveling has made me feel powerful, young, and connected again.  Time traveling made me miss the baby like crazy. To me this feels like the Best Night Ever. Only another month or so until I can do it again... ;)

Read Along with Me...

There is only one thing I enjoy as much as reading books, and that is talking about them. Nursing my baby girl, usually puts her to sleep- leaving me 2 hours to read every single day. That means a lot of books. 

Here's the list of my recent- reads, since she was born, I'd love some literary company!

• Still Life with WoodPecker by Tom Robbins
• Anna Karenina By Leo Tolstoy
• The Perks of being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
• The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
• Portrait's in Sepia by Isabel Allende
• Moby Dick by Herman Melville
• Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
• Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
• The Help by Kathryn Stockett
• The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
• A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole
• The Awakening by Kate Chopin
• As I lay Dying by William Faulkner
• Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
• The Portable Dorothy Parker Edited by Marion Meade
• To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
• Slaughterhouse five by Kurt Vonnegut
• Hyperbole and a half by Allie Brosh 
• The Story Sisters by Alice Hoffman

Any suggestions? 

The Awakening by Kate Chopin: in review

This was a reread for me and I loved it just as much the second time around. The first time I read "The Awakening" I was in high school. I connected with many of the narrator's emotional movements, woman-to-woman, but had limited life experience and immaturity stunting my reading experience. This time, as a 28 year old married woman, reading about a 28 year old married woman, I only had the difference of cultural setting and time period challenging my imagination.

Kate Chopin is an artist of words. She paints rich pictures by layering plot movement, meticulous description, and complex emotion into the same sentence. Her novel was controversial when it was released for its feminist ideas and "indecent" plot line for its audience in the early 1900s. Interestingly enough, the plot line is void of dramatic action (no explosions, murder, or mystery within these pages), yet its gripping content propels the reader to read and read. What happens in the novel? A privileged woman goes to her beach house in grand isle with her husband and kids, she learns to swim, she hangs out with a friend, gets a crush on the friend, picks up painting, moves back to be city home, frustrates her husband, gets an apartment, stirs up a bit of scandal, her friend has a baby, and then, finally, a dramatic- tragic- end. K. An affair. Nothing new in classic literature- just ask Emma Bovary or Anna Karenina. So, what makes this novel different? Character development, emotional growth, and honest, effective, description of what lies within many people's hearts. Chopin's writing style, the point of view, makes the reader become Edna. The reader feels the angst, the butterflies, the disappointment,  the excitement. Chopin makes the reader understand how it feels to live in a time where the  traditions of the culture could be oppressive even when they appeared pleasant. Her take home message translated into a present day slogan could read, "Live Free or Die Trying".

4.5/5-- .5 subtracted because I wish she could have figured out a way to allow our protagonist to have a more victorious ending without sacrificing the symbolism of the ending. (I will end with cryptically, as my goal is to lessen my spoilers.)

The Help By Kathryn Stockett: In Review

How pretenious, I thought to myself while reading the first few chapters of The Help by Kathryn Stockett. This author, an affluent white woman has the gall to write from the first person perspective of an African American woman serving as a maid in Mississippi in the early 1960s. How could she possibly pretend to know what that experience feels like? How could she create a believable-even just a  passable-narrative of the thoughts inside the minds of these characters, that are so different from herself? But, there I was, riveted by Aibileen's tenderness towards the little white baby she was charged with caring for, laughing at Minny's sass, crying over the purity of the goodness prevailing over the disgusting injustices. Stockett was doing it. And she was doing it incredibly well. Of course, how she was doing it became clearer as she introduced the character Skeeter- the white writer, who takes it upon herself to collect stories and observe the world around her carefully, critically: seeking truth. I assume this is Mrs. Stockett's closest self representation with her novel.

 Now to get the grit of it, the review. How was her writing? Efficient, smooth, colorful, descriptive. I felt as if I was both watching a movie in my mind, and chatting with a friend, as I read through the pages. How are the characters? Love-able, relate-able, realistic, and sometimes despicable (I'm looking at you, Hilly). How is the plot? entertaining, suspenseful, and sometimes realistically mundane as it follows everyday lives. Would I recommend it? Yes. Not only did her style of writing inspire me to try a more conversational approach to my own writing, but the story itself celebrates women's strength, highlights the importance of doing what is right, and forces the reader to remember both how dark and how beautiful life can be.

I just loved it.

5/5 Stars.

God Grant Me The Serenity

It happened again. I saw another flippant Facebook post from a so-called friend of my loved one, making light of and laughing about how it was only a matter of time before he 'fell off the wagon' and joined "his people" again. We are dealing with heroin here. We are referencing someone who has overdosed twice, and is struggling to stay alive, battling his addiction. His response? "LOL".

I usually write in my blog with the intention to inspire my readers, but this entry is self-motivated. I need to vent. I need to get this recurring thought out of my head, and into a space where it can be potentially shared before I throw up.  I am tired of feeling sick to my stomach from biting my tongue as I watch a disturbing trend-of-thought encompass too many of my friends and family.

This trend is the "glory story"- specifically the "glory story" attached to being "bad ass" or "legendary" when referencing the party life. I'm talking about the world of the binge drinkers, fight starters, and drug users. The circumstance that I keep finding myself in.  Where, I'm listening in horrified disgust to people compete with each other to claim the title of, what I can only guess is, Most '2nd Chances' Rewarded to Reckless Idiocy. Usually, everyone is laughing. The story teller is grinning. Their audience is laughing, and urging them on.

 I have been the story teller. I have been the gleeful audience member. But, as I got older...I have been the person calling the rehab for my loved ones. I have been the person who had to say goodbye too soon.

I'm in a position where I am affronted by this situation and its aftermath more than some people, as I am a drug & alcohol counselor by trade, ex-alcohol abuser, and family member to several active & recovering addicts.

 There is no glory in surviving your self inflicted destructive behavior. Pretending its funny helps it happen again. It enables the hazy addictive cycle to perpetuate. It leads you closer to relapse. Telling yourself you're strong for surviving a powerful drug or close-call situation is a sickness. I want to scream STOP IT! When I see this happening. But, I also know that I can not and should not control anyone but myself...even if I love them.

Just know, when you're laughing it off, someone who loves you may cry.

As I Lay dying: In review

"As I Lay Dying" by William Faulkner was a quick read, except for my continual need to reread the dialect to comprehend it. Interpreting the dialect and following the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) changes between each character's narrative style was challenging.

Quick Plot Summary with Spoilers:

The Bundrens' mother Addie has passed away. Anse Bundren, the father, has decided that Addie must be buried in Jefferson, despite many obstacles, including a storm that has made the trek to Jefferson very perilous. His children, Darl, Cash, Jewel, Dewey Dell, and Vardaman are dragged along for the ride. Despite appearing callous and irresponsible, Anse gets help from many neighbors along the way and ultimately comes out on top- considering his  goals seem to be to get a new set of teeth and a new wife in Jefferson, both events he succeeds in. His children and original team of mules are not so lucky. Cash, the carpenter, breaks a leg and has it sealed in cement by Anse. Darl, the most thoughtful & articulate of the bunch, loses his mind, sets fire to a barn, and ends in asylum. Jewel loses his horse in a trade made by Anse and gets identified as a bastard son. Dewey Dell is mistreated while in pursuit of getting an abortion for her unwanted pregnancy. Vardaman, relatively unscathed compared to his siblings, becomes preoccupied with the idea that his mother is a fish. And the team of mules are drowned trying to cross a flooded river. The point of all this hardship seems to be for Faulkner to highlight what it means to be human. The philosophy of what it means to "be" is repeatedly visited.

Rating: 3/5- Lacking a true hero figure and concluding with injustice prevailing , this read, although thought provoking and stylistically interesting, was kind of a downer.

Brave New World: In Review

As compared to reading Melville's Moby Dick, Brave New World by Aldous Huxley went by in a flash. It took a concentrated 3 weeks to read through its 18 chapters, written in refreshingly plain English. This book is Vladamir Lenin's dream of Dystopian future, i.e. extreme socialism and human conditioning concentrating on economic productivity. The reader follows a pathetic man, Bernard Marx, through a completely government controlled society that aims to keep people medicated, sexually exploratory and content. Through a visitation to an uncivilized reservation, Marx encounters a "savage" who's previously "civilized" mother had become stranded at the reservation. Marx gets permission to bring John, the savage, and his mother Linda back to civilized society. The savage symbolizes the individual- demonstrating a desire to practice religion, admonish all sexuality aside from passionate love, and  experience a full range of emotions including suffering. He violently collides with this new society and ultimately isolates himself in a tower, until taking his own life when isolation proves to be impossible.

Rating: 4/5 stars.
It's both comical and impressive to hear Huxley's predictions for a future. As this novel was published in 1931, his future  is my present. His predictions (although exaggerated) are not completely inaccurate. He describes people conditioned by commercialized slogans to become the ultimate consumers, shallow and unthinking, the masses devour material possessions as quickly as they ingest the "soma" mood elevating medications. Living in the present, surrounded by wasteful materialism and a Valium popping middle class America- I experienced an eerie feeling of familiarity when reading the passages.