There's this tree..

There's this tree that has strong deep roots. The older the tree gets, the deeper the roots get. They become strong. Big. Perfect for any foundation. Of course there's a trunk that grows up from these roots. It's been weathered, beaten, abused, asked for forgiveness, abused a little more, taken for granted. We always just assume this trunk, like the roots, will continue to grow as long as we never hurt it too much. It will grow wide, and it will grow tall. There are limbs that grow from it. Some grow up, some grow down, and some grow out. They consist of buds and leaves, and sometimes nothing at all. Just mini limbs from the limbs. And mini limbs from those mini limbs. We depend on this tree to make us feel safe. To protect us. To shade us. We get excited when the limbs go from death to color and shapes. We get overwhelmed when the sun causes them to change into different colors and we kick them when they fall to the ground. Some of us may even take pictures of them. But all of us, even if just a little bit of each of us, get sad when we see it bare again.

Sometimes when we leave the tree we realize how much we miss it. How it's strength made us feel so protected. How the beauty, or the emptiness, gave us feelings. How proud we are of how far it's come out of the earth. How simple things like rain, sunshine, and dirt have made it become who it is today. How although there may be tons of them, there's only one.

There's only one of us.

Then one day this tree will reach it's limbs a few thousand miles away and ask for you to come home. It'll say "Hey, look how strong I am. Look how much I miss you. Look how I'm not there. Look how comfortable you were when you were with me. Sure, you've learned a lot about yourself, but it's time. It's time to grow, and to move on, and to explore. And to get rid of your unhappiness."

It's time for this tree to grow a couple more branches, appreciate my strong roots a little more, share what I've learned, about life and about myself. To reach my limbs around people who love me. Who love my leaves. Who don't care when I'm leaf-less.

BLAH!

Have you ever just felt BLAH? Not angry, only a little sad, only a little more happy, not feeling creative or encouraging, maybe a little more curious than one should be, asking a little more questions than usual.

I just read a book called Mutant Message by Morgan Marlo. I have never read a book this quickly and was completely consumed the moment I laid my eyes on the back cover. I won't ruin it for you, nor will I go into the details, because frankly I'm exhausted from how excited I get from talking about it, but you should definitely check it out. It has made me much more aware of how negative we can be. Suck it up, it's not that bad. And it shows us how everything truly happens for a reason, even it involves hundreds of flies to cover your body for what seems as an eternity...

Right now I'm in the middle of Starbucks people watching and waiting to clock in at my job...

I just read my sister's blog and my heart goes out to, as I asked her yesterday, "FUNKY HEART??" 's family, friends, readers, and everyone he's touched. God knows he's touched SO many families. I've never met him, but felt instant grief when I found out this 44-year old congenital heart defect survivor has passed away. Rest peacefully Steve Catoe.

I moved out of my boy house in NE Portland on Sunday to a gal-friendly duplex much closer to my job with a coworker and her friend. It's very comfortable, clean, and I have a bed! No more pulled out lumpy futon for me. I woke up feeling refreshed and renewed, like anyone who sleeps as much as I do should feel! I rode with Shawna to work today, even though I didn't need to come into work until 2 hours later. I decided to spend my time catching up on the internet (oh yeah, my new place is internet-free), browsing through the book store, and sippin' on some much needed coffee. While I was in Powell's, our local mega used bookstore around Portland, I was looking to purchase Mutant Message to share with my mama. The little computer sent me to the Metaphysics section of the store and I was so distracted I completely forgot what I was looking for! I never could find it, but my eye was fixated on a man named Edgar Cayce. He has a series of books that seem unreal. This is the first print of Channeling Your Higher Self. Like I said, this store is a used book store so this book has been loved on, noted in, and dog-eared, which I like. I feel like I can already feel what the person who read this before me was looking for. Am I looking for the same thing? Do I know the person who read this book before me? Did he live in NC? Is he an Aquarius? Who knows...but wouldn't that be fun?! I'm learning it's a craaaazy world we live it.

People go out of our lives as quickly as people come back in. I've recently had some pals pop back into my life and I wonder how I lived the past 6 years without 'em. Of course I did, and maybe I wouldn't have known the difference if they didn't come back in, but I'm just glad they did. It's just so odd to me how things line up. Heartache hurts, but soon it'll all be forgotten about.

Sometimes I think my major personal fault is being too passionate. Oh, and wasting love on the wrong things/people. Maybe I'm not wasting it, maybe it's just not apparent of why I'm doing it, just yet.



welcome.



Day O' Rest

Today is my first day off in 10 days. I decided I would silence the phone, get packed into my bed comfortably, and sleep in as long as possible. Apparently I forgot to silence my phone. 9 e-mails, 2 calls, 6 text messages, 2 facebook notifications, and 2 Blackberry instant messages later, I was awake. But sleeping in until 10:30 isn't too shabby! Why today was everyone contacting me?? Oh, right, it's a holiday.

Holidays definitely do NOT seem the same without your family and traditions. I don't want a pity party, this was totally my doing. (And I definitely had TONS of invites from friends out here to come over, but I think resting and icing my arm is a somewhat high priority on my list.) I decided I would move 3,000 miles away from the norm and see how things go. Honestly, there were a couple years between my grandma passing away and my nephew being born where I could've cared less about Thanksgiving. The holiday who's date was formed by our brilliant president at the time saying "Hey, let's have it on the 4th Thursday of every November to boost our economy." Seriously??

I would like to think I remind people I love and myself of what I'm thankful for, more than one day a year. Because I truly am. And I'm not just talking about "friends and family and my job." No. I think it's a given that everyone is thankful for their friends and families and jobs during this economy. But also, I'm thankful that I don't have to walk miles and miles just to access clean water to drink or wash my clothes in. I'm thankful for a therapist who helped me overcome my speech impediment. I'm thankful every-freakin-single day for doctors and surgeons and technology when I look at my nephew. I'm thankful for hangers to hang my clothes on, and for my iron when I decide I dont feel like hanging them. I'm thankful for the 4 blankets on me right now, two of which my mom made with her own two strong, beautiful hands, to keep me warm. I'm thankful for music. Music heals the soul, inspires, causes controversy.

So what does one do for this holiday when normal traditions are unavailable? Let's just say I hope there's not a hidden camera in this house. ALL of my roommates are away for atleast the evening. In the 4 hours I've been awake I've eaten someone's left over Domino's pizza and breadsticks. Drank an entire french press of coffee, in my favorite mug from my sister, with creamer and sugar from a canister labeled as "crack". Watched 7 episodes of King of the Hill, Season 8. Iced my arm, 10 minutes on, 10 minutes off. Drank a diet coke. Received phone calls from all kinds of area codes with wrong numbers (guess they decide to call "people the love" only one time a year. I've had this number since March) Built a fort of blankets on the couch, less than 3 feet from my space heater. Peed in the downstairs bathroom. Watched a LOT of Yo Gabba Gabba on YouTube. (Who knew you could learn how to beat box with Biz Markie on YGG?? Ethan will for sure be getting some DVDs soon.) Did a couple loads of laundry. Sent a few "I swear I'm OK" text messages. KIND OF Skyped with my sister and Ethan at her in-laws. We had a little connection problem... Watched my bag of ice have a melt down.

I feel good! I think how much everyone built up how hard this would be caused a lot of unnecessary anxiety and concern, but dang it, I'm enjoying my day off!

Stupid Trees

I'm as guilty as the next person for obsessing over them, but I'm starting to NOT understand what's the big deal about the leaves changing. Maybe I'm not as much as a fall person as I thought I was, or maybe it's just the gloomy NW weather getting to me, but those beautiful orange, red, and yellow trees just a few weeks ago are now bare. Already. That tree at my bus stop, the one that would prevent the rain from getting me soaking wet, is now leaf-less and offers me no protection. The trees remind me of death, which reminds me of people who have died and it doesn't make me feel good, at all.

I'm bummed because I realize when I come home I won't run into Michael. Ever again. I will visit him and pay my respects, but I'll never get to give him a big warm hug or hear his jolly laugh. And what sucks even more is that I took all that for granted. We lived on the same coast as eachother for years and I took him and the fact that he would be there forever, for granted. In fact, every day I'm learning of more people and things I took for granted. Just tonight I chatted it up with a friend who I use to hide-and-seek with when we were just snot faced nerds in overalls and keds. I haven't hung out with him in years, but we were so close to eachother physically. It took me 3,000 miles, a few months, and a lot of money to show me that what I was looking for-friendship, love, good eats, fun times-was right there tapping me on the shoulder the whole time. 3,000 miles. That's a long ways away.

Things don't last forever. Leaves or people.

Enjoy them while they're there. I'll be looking forward to spring when those pretty little leaves pop back up. Too bad people aren't leaves.

Help..

..I'm drowning.

I'm way too excited with thinking (again) that I know which way I want my life to go. I'm thinking down that education road, getting back into school, and doing something that hits close to home. Just googlin' around on the internet tonight and getting ideas of what I'm in for causes me to become scared, nervous, and inpatient (duh, I'm my father's daughter). I want to go NOW and talk to someone about where to start my journey.

Where is my LIFE guidance counselor.

When does "just let your heart lead you there" end, and real, solid advice begin?

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE hair, I LOVE Aveda, and I LOVE what I do. But at times I want to tell people to get over the way they look on the outside and give yourself a break. I want to help people who need to be help, not who's ego needs to be stroked. I love my (NC) clients and love that I still get e-mails, postcards, and packages from my old clients who still adore me, miles and miles away. They make me feel like a million dollars. But lately I've been surrounded by people who, strangely only get haircuts once a year, but freak out if a hair is out of place. I don't get it. It's just going to get wet in .23 seconds anyhow... It's exhausting, and honestly I don't feel like my heart is in it out here the way it was in the south. I get too worried when a client "loves" her hair and talks about how fabulous it is, because more than likely she's going to get home, obsess in a mirror and handheld, and after fingering her hair until it falls out, find something that's not perfect (maybe her emotional stability?) and complain. It shouldn't be that way. I shouldn't be losing my confidence. I think I'm a pretty talented stylist...

The worst, and hardest part of my life was from before I could remember, until all through elementary school. Although then I didn't think it was THAT awful at times, it was hard. I had an extreme speech impediment. I couldn't say my R's and no one understood a thing that came out of my mouth. It was so frustrating and hurtful when I was mocked by friends and family. I still cry to this day and get extremely hurt if someone makes fun of the way I say a word, whether it's because of my accent or because I did say it wrong. I don't understand why people think it's so funny to make fun of someone with a speech impediment. I guess it all goes back to stroking people's egos and feeling like they're better than you, even if just for that moment.

I want to protect every child who doesn't speak properly, and I want to slap parents who's children should have been through therapy to have their speech corrected, but were too lazy or thought it wasn't that big of a deal, so now their child will have to go through that mockery for their entire life. Since I can't fly around like a superhero and protect those children and slap those parents, maybe, just maybe, I'll become a Speech Pathologist. I'll do my part in correcting their speech while giving them the confidence they'll need to not be so sensitive WHEN, not if, family and friends continue to joke and make fun of. I never want to imagine who I would be today without the help of my therapist. I remember going from a shy, quiet child, to, well, who I am now! If I remembered her name and had her address I would send her flowers today. I want to be that person to someone. I want a child to run home to their parents and say "Guess what Miss Davis helped me with today?!" and I want to see the progress. The progress in something that matters more than growing out old highlights or repairing damaged ends.

What's really underneath it all?

Today I was walking down Hawthorne on my way to work. It was cold and before 9 am. I wasn't the happiest camper on the street. As I was walking I looked down to see grass in the cracks of the sidewalk. I started seeing this more often as I was looking for it. I couldn't help but think "If we ripped up the roads and sidewalks, would there be beautiful lush grass hiding under there?" Of course the honest side of me thought "Um, no. You know better. They ruined everything before they laid the asphalt or concrete." But I couldn't help but think of the multiple occasions I've witnessed ripping  up dingy, ugly carpet from the 70s, only to find beautiful, original hard wood floors.

If I ripped off the negative, ugly layer of me, what would I find? What would glow from my bottom layer, my inner-ness. The layer which has witnessed a little more of my life and knows how serious things are, and how serious things aren't, and how instead of getting upset, just finding the positive in it and letting it go.

Yesterday I, along with quite a few other Dosha employees, and AIP students, had a speaker who is Aveda. She lives and breathes it, and honestly it wouldn't hurt if there were a few of us a little more like her. She asked us to channel our inner beauty, and find the true beauty in others. Not just the outer layer which my job is obsessed with. When asked "What could make the world a better place?" I searched high and low for my answer. I could answer all the other ones-
Q "Who's the most beautiful person I know?" A "Duh, My mom"
Q "I feel beautiful when..." A "I'm with the people I love"
Q "Beauty is..." A "Raw"
Q "What could make the world a better place?"

hm. Well now I know my answer after sitting on that question for a little over 24 hours.
A "If we would all peel away the rough, negative layer of ourselves to see our own inner beauty, it would be a lot easier for others to see it, and for you to see theirs."
It's as simple as that.

Or is it?

Right now I'm dealing with handling being a hypocrite. All day I'm irritated with people who are so unhappy in their lives. So I tell them, CHANGE IT! If it's that awful, change it, or stop complaining about it. Well I've realized, with the help of friends, that I am being that girl.
So here's to change. It's much smaller than some other changes I've made in the past few months, but still scary. In the end I'm hoping for happiness, more estrogen, and less football, and possibly peeling back one of those layers to bring myself, and everyone else, closer to viewing my inner beauty.

You know you're a nerd when...

You look forward to your lunchbreak, walk home a little quicker, and take an extremely fast shower to have more time to enjoy your new book. That's right, this gal got a Multnomah Library card! They have this great idea (maybe all libraries have this, I haven't stepped foot into one in over 10 years..) to let you go on-line, search books you would like to read, and put it on a hold list. Once they get it at that branch, they'll e-mail you and tell you to come pick it up. Well I didn't know if you put 6 books on hold, there's a possibility that you'll get an e-mail with 4 titles of books that are on hold for you until Monday. So now I have 4 books to read by December 1.

I've never been a big reader until I moved to Portland. Wait, let me rephrase that. I use to LOVE walking to the library from the house my sister and I grew up in. It was (if Leland had blocks) about 2 blocks away. My mom and I would walk over and bring back bags and bags of books and I would have a reading marathon. Also, there was the book-it club. This girl loved Pizza Hut, and after reading so many books you got so many stars, which then turned into FREE PERSONAL PAN PIZZAS!!! Reading=Eating. Love it. But once I grew up, and maybe it had something to do with moving out of that house when I was 12, I stopped enjoying reading so much, and started a love for other things, like boys.

Well, I'm back to my good ol' single lifestyle- nerd glasses, stack of books, Red Baron's pizza crust next to my pillow case, Kool-Aid mustache. I'm feeling PRETTY good about life!

So what 4 special books am I obsessed with until we have to go our separate ways before December?

Eating Animals Jonathan Safran Foer
"Brilliantly synthesizing philosophy, literature, science, memoir, and his own detective work, Eating Animals explores the many stories we use to justify our eating habits-folklore and pop culture, family traditions, and national myth, apparent facts and inherent fictions-and how such tales can lull us into a brutal forgetting"

Three Cups of Tea Greg Mortenson & David Oliver Relin
"One Man's Mission to Promote Peace...One School at a time."

Mutant Message Down Under Marlo Morgan
"Mutant Message recounts a unique, timely, and powerful life-enhancing message for all humankind: It is not too late to save our world from destruction if we realize that all living things-be they plants, animals, or human beings-are part of the same universal oneness."

A Piece of Cake Cupcake Brown
"Orphaned by the death of her mother and left in the hands of a sadistic foster parent, young Cupcake Brown learned to survive by turning tricks, downing hard liquor, and ingesting every drug she could find while hitchhiking up and down the California coast. She stumbled into gangbanging, drug dealing, hustling, prostitution, theft, and eventually the best scam of all: a series of 9-to-5 jobs."