Neener’s Blog

Thinking. Writing. Recording. Creating.

Long Live The King January 21, 2008

Filed under: Reflections — fishgrip @ 1:15 pm

He listened. The man listened.

Imagine what it must have been like to wake up every morning and be Dr. Martin Luther King? Imagine the words and the sense of urgency bouncing around the room whether his eyes remained opened or closed. Imagine his mind, how the inspiration must have seeped in like a blessing, then manifested itself in an uphill climb every day. Imagine the feeling of responsibility. Of having so much to say, against so many odds, in the face of so much criticism. Imagine feeling called to speak up and stand up and wake up your brothers and sisters. Imagine knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is why you are here.

Imagine the day that you stop imagining, and start doing.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 5:10

Be Not Afraid

Blessed are your poor, for the kingdom shall be theirs.
Blessed are you that weep and mourn, for one day you shall laugh.
And if wicked men insult and hate you all because of me, blessed, blessed are you.

 

My friend Bec January 17, 2008

Filed under: Reflections — fishgrip @ 2:18 pm

My friend Bec is one of the best people I know. She’s more like a sister to me, than a friend, actually. She more or less grew up in our house throughout much of her childhood, my mom being her primary caregiver. She lived diagonally across the street from us. Her mother was a high power attorney in Princeton and her dad was a spy, although she didn’t find out about her dad until much later in life. She came to our house when she was four-years old, and stayed there until her parents divorced several years later, and her mom chose to relocate the two of them to Pennington, probably for the shorter commute and more quality time with her only child… although hindsight being what it is, who knows whether the move was motivated by a desire to insulate her from our family?

Fortunately, our friendship/sisterhood didn’t suffer from the distance. In fact, it grew stronger. We stayed in touch by phone, wrote letters (as there was no e-mail back then), and visited each other often. Her mother would meet my mother more than halfway and she’d stay with us for weekends, or vice versa. Looking back, it’s almost like my family retained a sort of partial custody. She was a de-facto Donnelly, as far as we were concerned. I don’t think I knew how much she meant to us, to me, until much later though. I had a lot of growing up to do. When we were kids, we interacted like typical siblings. I would boss her around and she would take interpersonal cues from our family dynamic… which is natural of course, yet frightening in retrospect.

In fact to this day, my mother wonders if she’s ok. If she feels we did right by her? More specifically, if she feels my mother did right by her?

I assure her she’s more than fine. I don’t want to speak for Bec, but it’s not as if our family was so horrible. We were simply your typical, repressed, nuclear family struggling with everyday financial woes, obsessive/compulsive disorders, apathy, rage, condescension, arrogance, aloofness, and addiction – recovered or otherwise.

I think it served as a rather petri dish of sorts. We become what we know, or a reaction thereof. I’m glad to see that Bec took what she “knew”, then shaped for herself a new reality. Her life is rich with art and invention, drawing from a seemingly neverending wellspring of inspiration and awe. She moves about the world with a joyful spirit. She’s naturally cheerful and trusting, a quality that’s both refreshing and staggering in this day and age, especially considering that she resides in the concrete jungle of NYC. She does things like quitting cushy day jobs to pursue a career making video art. She delves into corners of the mind, the spirit, the loins, to craft a compelling product that is dizzying in it’s boldness and truth. She lives organically, with the faith that wherever she may roam, she will surely find her next muse. Where there is impetuousness and adventure, there exists a striking balance of poise and preparedness. She will coordinate her daily goings on to ultimately serve her deepest longing. For instance, her purchase of a one way ticket to Iceland. She’ll see to it that her affairs are in order so that she may journey forth and return whence the spirit moves her.

Plain and simple: I adore her, and I am blessed beyond measure to know her… or better yet, be related to her.

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Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ January 16, 2008

Filed under: Reflections — fishgrip @ 2:07 pm

I found pictures last night from when Michaelina was a baby. She was so tiny. One picture was from Christmas when she was 6 weeks old. Her Muncle Jerry held her in his lap and his hand was bigger than her head. I can’t believe she’s gone from 6 weeks old to 6 years old. When did that happen?

And her baby brother is a month shy from being 1 year. What?!

What is going on?

10 years ago I was 25. I was still grieving the loss of my dad and I wasn’t even engaged yet. I had my whole life ahead of me. Ambition. Drive. I was working as a vet tech and I wanted to save the world. Now it’s all I can do just to save my bank account.

I still have ambition and drive. When I’m not working full time, I’m taking care of my beloved babies. When I’m not taking care of my beloved babies, I’m writing “books.” When I’m not writing, I’m in class or at the gym or doing bills or kissing Neal or doing laundry or washing dishes or making dinner or chatting on the phone or buying flowers for funerals or wrapping a birthday present or driving to a piano lesson or talking with my mother or reading a book or taking a crap or going to church or planning a party or organizing photos or checking my e-mail or seeking out silence or researching publishing houses or mailing out thank-you notes or spending time with my relatives or catching up with friends or rocking on my porch or changing the sheets or grocery shopping or cleaning my house or sleeping.

And you know what? It’s all good.

 

Post-Holiday Glee January 15, 2008

Filed under: Reflections — fishgrip @ 1:59 pm

14 days into the new year, and it is indeed a very good day.

I have officially dropped 2 pant sizes. I managed to squeeze my rear end into my pre-pregnancy size 10 trousers this morning. I am smiling from my toes on up, even if my button is ready to pop right off.

I have been working out for two straight weeks. The motivation of being the matron of honor in my niece’s upcoming wedding along with a heartfelt New Year’s Resolution have kept me disciplined. Actually, my niece herself is a great cattle prod. We have an understanding. We essentially both lie to one another about really wanting to go work out. We make the other feel obligated to go with us, with the philosophy that we’ve made the commitment and we’d be awfully lame to leave the other hanging, even though we both wish the other would just say, “I can’t make it tonight” or “I don’t feel well” or just plain “I don’t feel like it.” Anything to perpetuate the procrastination.

Erika’s the perfect workout partner. As the day is winding down and workout time approaches, I wait for my phone to ring. I hear myself hemming and hawing about how tired I am after another long day, just having gotten the kids to bed and washed the dishes and put away some laundry. I anticipate her replying with, “Yeah, I’ve had a long day too. Let’s skip tonight.” But instead she always says, “I’m down. Let’s do it.”

It’s a perfect arrangement. It’s exactly the push I need. It helps that she’s the bride-to-be. We have a mutual destination – to fit beautifully in our beautiful dresses by September 26th.

So look out Pam Anderson. You’ve got some stiff competition now! (I told you to pay attention!)

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A Comedy of Errors January 2, 2008

Filed under: Reflections — fishgrip @ 1:04 pm

I woke up this morning with the theme song for Gilligan’s Island in my head. (What?)

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
That started on this tropic shore,
Aboard this tiny ship.
The mate was a mighty sailin’ man,
The Skipper brave and sure,
Five passengers set sail that day
For a three hour tour.

A three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough,
The tiny ship was tossed.
If not for the courage of the fearless crew,
The Minnow would be lost.

The Minnow would be lost.

The ship’s aground on the shore of this
Uncharted desert isle
With Gilligan, the Skipper too,
The Millionaire and his wife,
A movie star, the Professor and Mary Ann,
Here on Gilligan’s Isle!

First of all, since when was Gilligan ever “mighty”?! More importantly, why would that song be in my head? Naturally, with all my psychoanalysis in full swing, there has GOT to be a reason. Do I feel stranded on some deserted island in my mind? Do I feel stuck with a happy, harmless idiot for a first mate? LOL! No. That’s not it at all, actually. That much, I am certain.

But wait, it gets better. Remember when each episode ended, they signed off with:

So this is the tale of our castways,
They’re here for a long, long time
They’ll have to make the best of things,
It’s an uphill climb.

The first mate and his Skipper too,
Will do their very best,
To make the others comfortable,
In their tropic island nest.

No phones, no lights, no motorcars
Not a single luxury,
Like Robinson C-ru-soe, it’s primitive as can be.
So join us here each week my friends,
You’re sure to get a smile,
From seven stranded castways,
Here on “Gilligan’s Isle.”

Call me crazy (“You’re crazy!”), but in typing it all out, I think I’m on to something:

I think it’s about my family. We are stuck in our dysfunction on an emotional island we can’t seem to escape from. Probably because we are incapable of working together toward the same objective, which would be acceptance of our differences and freedom from resentment. Gilligan is my mother. Skipper is my brother, Brian. The Professor is my brother, Bob. Mary Ann is my sister-in-law, Lori. Mr. & Mrs. Howe are my brother Kevin and his wife Kerry. And me? Well of course, I am Ginger.

The only characters missing would be Brian’s wife, Marci and my husband, Neal. They would play the rescuers that show up from time to time. But inevitably no one can save us from our foolishness, and we are left to our own certain demise.

 

Days Gone By January 1, 2008

Filed under: Reflections — fishgrip @ 2:28 pm

Happy New Year. Did you “take a cup o’ kindness” last night for days gone by? According to Wikipedia…

“Auld Lang Syne” is a song by Robert Burns (1759–1796)… It is one of the better-known songs in English-speaking countries, and it is often sung at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Day. Like many other frequently sung songs, the melody is better remembered than the words, which are often sung incorrectly, and seldom in full. The song’s (Scots) title may be translated into English literally as ‘old long since’, or more idiomatically ‘long long ago’,[2] or ‘days gone by’.

Here are the original lyrics…

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp!
And surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
Frae morning sun til dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d,
Sin auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak a right gude-willie-waught,
For auld lang syne.

Did you ever hear anyone sing all the verses? Who knew? I always wanted to sing a song with “gude-wilie-waught” in it! I think I feel a tradition coming on.

As I kissed my sister Susie goodnight last night, she hugged me and said “It’s going to be a good year. I can feel it.” I believe her. And on this New Day, I am indeed Happy.