Gonna Fly Now!!!

The running journal continues. Unfortunately, for the month of August, the running hasn’t. But it is now nearing the end. August is almost over. And I am now ready to start training again… yes, I admit I have not been training…

But let me digress…

For those of you who are native to San Antonio, let me make reference to the Texas Folklife Festival. It is an event that takes place every summer. For many years, it took place during the first week of August. And it was excruciatingly HOT, yet people would flock to it despite the heat… because there was the promise of delicious food and refreshing beverages… of the malt liquor kind. They had that incentive.

Then one day… one year… someone who reigned high finally had enough of the heat. They reached a remarkable revelation and announced that August is too freakin’ HOT! Yet, as festive San Antonians, we could not forego the festival altogether. No. That would not be right. So, we reached a sensible compromise. Simply move the festival to the month of June—the beginning of the summer. It is not as hot then.

Well, after suffering through training in the heat of the day for the first two months of summer, and after doing my best to carry it on into August, I finally decided to follow the example of the most high Folklife gods.

In my last running blog, I mentioned that I hated running. I would now like to retract that statement. I realize now that it is not the running that I hate. It is the HEAT! Much like the people at the Folklife festival, I could no longer take the heat. So, I simply decided to get out of the proverbial kitchen. Take a break. At least until the sun loses its Augustian fangs and no longer feels the need to attack me whenever I go outside. (Before you ask why I don’t just run in the evenings, it’s because I work nights and can only train in the middle of the day.)

It is now the end of August, and after not exercising for a month, I have grown restless and the lack of activity has spurred several nights of sleeplessness, ruined my appetite, and stifled my creativity. Hence, my cue that it’s now time to get back into the swing of things.

So, I’m kicking August out with a bang, and making room for the Great Pumpkin to sprout her wings and fly into September!! =P

This morning I wrote three pages of a short story and walked almost four miles! And the sun did not eat me alive! Yay!!! Fall is on its way!!!

Below is a glimpse of what I have to look forward to in October…

Question of the Day

There is a certain question that gets asked every now and then, and as I get older, I notice that I tend to get asked more and more. It’s one of those questions that I’ve never been able to understand the true ‘meaning’ of--probably a question that is supposed to be meant as a compliment, but if you really think about it, it’s kind of insulting… and if you think about it even more, it says a lot about our society and our way of thinking.

By now, you’re probably wondering what that question is. So, I’ll tell you. But not before I place it into context. As y’all know, I’ve entertained the idea of being a part of the dating scene for some time. If you’ve ever seen a kid with a new toy, then you can get an idea of how I am with the whole idea of dating. It intrigues me for all of one second before I am distracted by something else more interesting… something more “shiny” if you will… like a new book… or a really interesting infomercial. Lol.

Yup. There are times when I would much rather sit and read a book, or watch a movie… or maybe even cut my darn toe nails… rather than go through the hassle of going on a date. (Please don’t confuse “going on a date” with actually being interested in meeting someone worth meeting. There is a BIG difference.)

But I digress…

Out of a strange sense of obligation to myself, I continue to “put myself out there.” I agree to meet new people, get set up, join online dating sites… the whole nine yards. I make the effort to send and return “winks” as well as e-mails, participate in idle chit-chat, do the whole flirting thing, and then proceed to give out my number—which I am quickly learning is not a very smart thing to do. Nope. (Another topic for another blog.)

And so the whole “dance” progresses. Conversation ensues. And then… that’s when I get asked that question. That same question that older people tend to ask me as well… That question that leaves me stumped and not knowing whether I am actually expected to respond or just smile and do my best imitation of a bobble-head. That question is:

“Why are you still single?”

Now, at its first utterance, this question make take the guise of a hidden compliment, as in “You’re such a wonderful catch. I can’t believe nobody has snatched you up… blah, blah, blah…”

But if you listen closely, you can almost hear the stigma associated with being single. It’s as if being single is like having the cooties. Only “grody” people are single. Nobody decent could possibly have that “wrong” with them. Didn’t ya know?

So I believe that, in asking that question, people are subtly affirming that they are unable to see any major flaws or get a whiff of any malodorous deterrents that might be contributing to the whole “condition” of being single. So, they boldly ask what has been asked before.

But these days, I am beyond interpreting it as a compliment. I am beyond smiling and bobbing my head. I would like to get down to the nitty-gritty. Because I am a person who is constantly searching for answers myself, I would like to give the people the real response they’re wanting.

In my response, I would first like to acknowledge that I really do appreciate the whole, “I think you’re special enough to have a boyfriend, and I really want you to be happy” innuendo. But I think we have all been around enough to know that having a boyfriend does not guarantee happiness. Nope. Being in a relationship does NOT mean that your life is perfect.

Yup. I said it. Because I CAN say it. Not only because I’ve been there, but because I grew up there. I got to see how “special” all the women in my family were and have been. I have had the privilege of seeing how a woman can be the most beautiful thing a man sets eyes on one night, only to be the most disgusting thing in existence the next day.

Don’t get me wrong. None of this is meant to badmouth men or announce that I am bitter. Because I’m not. I actually let go of the bitterness a couple of years ago. I do not believe that men are scum. Nor do I hate any of them.

The whole reason for my mentioning any of this is to point out that being single is not always a mark of defectiveness, no more than being married is a prerequisite for happiness. One does not always go hand in hand with the other.

The truth is… I am still single… because… I am still single. Because God wants it that way, I say. Just like He wanted the sky to be blue and the earth to be round. It’s one of those things that just is. Being single is not a negative or a positive. It is just a neutral state of existence.

And even if it does have some scientific or philosophical explanation, just like with the theories on creation, there never will be a response that everyone agrees on or wants to accept.

It is the way it is.

So, now that I’ve cleared that up, feel free to ask me another question…

A Disease I Might Be Happy to Have

Last year I came across an article in Psychology Today that talked about a disease called hypergraphia. It is defined as a compulsive urge to write. It was a very interesting article, and after reading it, I couldn’t help but wish that I could be so lucky as to have it! Ha ha! (But remember, they always say that you should be careful what you wish for…)

At the end of the article, a few famous authors were listed who are hypergrapics. One of them is Stephen King. Another is Danielle Steele.

Yesterday I was at the bookstore, and I couldn’t help but notice some of the books that Stephen King has written. Has anybody ever looked at his novels all together? Not just one at a time. But all of them together. How and where does this man find the time to eat and sleep? And of course, I remembered that he is supposedly hypergraphic.

I might’ve mentioned before that there are times when I just HAVE to wake up in the middle of the night and write. It’s happened since I was a little kid. But throughout my life, I have repressed the urge lots of times. Only now, I just give in to it. But as of yet, it has not resulted in me writing an entire novel or better yet, TONS of novels—like Stephen King. But wouldn’t you know that hypergraphia is also known as “The Midnight Disease”?

Just now I was looking for more information on hypergraphia and happened to come across a recorded session from NPR. I thought y’all might be interested in hearing it. The disease affects the creative mind in writers and artists. I would summarize what I heard, but I figure it would be better if you heard it for yourself. It’s a short recording—just a couple of minutes long. (Just click on the link above if you’d like to listen to it.)

I can’t help but wonder how many of us are affected by this and don’t even know it. I think it’s safe to say that I might have a little bit of it… maybe just not a severe case… and hopefully not one of the ones that it mentions towards the end—the ones who have the compulsive urge to write, but no talent and/or nothing meaningful to say… LOL… but I guess ya never know…

Important News Bulletin (originally written on January 13 2008)

Attention, blog readers.


We interrupt your current activities to bring you a very important news bulletin from Random Radio.

Today's Random Radio commentary is on unrealistic circumstances in movies.

Of course, we all know that movies are not real life, and things are supposed to be… different. But usually, things are different in an exaggerated way—like when a car jumps between two cliffs, or when one guy is able to fight off a gang of ten with his martial arts expertise… that sort of thing.

Well, today I was watching the movie THE PRINCE & ME with Julia Stiles, where this American girl just happens to fall in love with the prince of Denmark, only she is unaware of who he is.

I know, I know… total fantasy… just like it should be… 'cause it's a movie. Right. I get that.

But the "unreal" part that just boggles my mind is when she discovers that he's the prince of Denmark. Rather than feel pleasantly surprised, her twisted intellectual mindset somehow causes her to become very angry. Yes. She is angry because he did not tell her that he was a prince. Damn him!!! He lied and told her he was just a regular guy.



Uh, yeah. I know I'd be pissed.

i heart...

It’s 2:45 a.m. I didn’t even make it to 3:00 this time. What the heck is wrong with me? Geez!

When I was little I used to imagine that I’d work a night job when I grew up. Because, yes, I used to wake up in the middle of the night even then. Little did my mom know that, as soon as she fell asleep, I was up and around the house…

One summer, while in a summer program at Trinity University, we went on a field trip where we got to tour a college radio station. I was able to see what it was like “behind the scenes”. Soon after that I began to notice TV shows and movies about people who worked in radio, especially on a night shift. And I was actually able to imagine myself doing that. I used to think it might be ideal for me since I was awake at night anyway. At least, then, I’d have somebody to talk to and something to do.

Of course, I also imagined myself being a doctor, an architect, a “business woman” (kind of reminds of Romy and Michelle), etc. I figured the doctor thing would be ideal because, for some reason, it always seems like night time in the hospital. Doesn’t it? Plus, I used to be in the hospital all the time. It was my second home. And I liked that when I woke up at night there, I could see lights on and other people were awake, too. All up and down the halls! It was very comforting.

But anyway, tonight we will focus on the career in radio broadcasting—if that’s even what you call it. Of course, there isn’t really a radio, and none of this is audible, but if it were, this is what you would hear:

Good evening, folks! Welcome to Random Radio, where I get to report on anything and everything I want and never have to worry about dead time or FCC regulations… or even getting fired. (I hear that happens a lot in the radio world. How horrible!)

In tonight’s news I would like to comment on Hillary Clinton. Now, I am not a political person by any means. So, I am not going to sit here and debate on where funding should go, or what the current issues are, or whatever else political reporters discuss. Even though I might have an opinion on these things, I would like to just look at the bigger picture--like who do I “like”? Who do I imagine in the position? Simple as that. (Hey! It’s MY show, darnit!)

I know that many people out there say that you’re not supposed to tell other people who you vote for. But I couldn’t care less. I’m going to tell you. My vote goes to Hillary. Yes, I heart Hillary.

Why? You ask. Why do I heart Hillary? Because she is a strong woman. Simple as that. I know, I know… many people out there lost respect for her after Clinton cheated on her with Monica. But, honestly, my question is this: Why does the woman get judged when her husband did wrong? If anything, that whole situation only served to improve my opinion of her… because most women would have crumbled. I know I would have. I’m not ashamed to say it. That’s just me. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s reality. I am just an emotional person. But not Hillary. Nope. She stood in the face of adversity. She never once shed a tear. At least not publicly. She never badmouthed her husband. Never acted vindictive. Nope. She held her head high because I’m sure she knows that she has nothing to be ashamed of. She knows her worth! And I admire that about her. Yup. I do.

I don’t believe it has anything to do with her letting Clinton walk all over her or treat her like crap. I choose to see it in the sense that she stuck to her marital vows. She believes in resolving issues in her marriage. She believes in forgiveness. She’s there for the long haul. Why criticize HER for something she didn’t even do?

I admire the fact that she is emotionally strong. So strong that she has gained the reputation of an ice queen. Right? Yup. Uh-huh.

Yesterday the “big news” was that she got “emotional” during one of her campaign stops. Have any of you seen the video? If people think this is emotional, then I’d hate to hear what they think of MY reactions to things! Ha! She’s sooo freakin’ strong that she didn’t even shed a tear! Her voice just cracked! And THAT’S getting emotional?!!! What I wouldn’t give to have that much strength and composure!





Luckily, this emotional episode might mean something good in terms of her campaign. It makes her seem more “human” to a lot of people. But I already knew she was real. If it had been a MAN who got “emotional” the way she did, people would think he was sensitive and compassionate. Blah blah Blah…

But I won’t go there. I’m taking the high road. Following Hillary’s example. Because, yes, I heart Hillary.

That’s all for tonight. Thank you for listening. Feel free to join me again for Random Radio.

breakfast at lisa's (originally written on January 8, 2008)

It's 4:15 a.m. and I've been awake for the last hour. Just made myself breakfast. I don't know what it is, but I have always been a night owl. There is something about the wee hours of the morning that appeal to me. I don't know if it's the peace or the quiet, or what, but it is a lot easier for me to be awake at hours like this than in the daylight morning hours. I find that my mind tends to be more active at this time than at any other.

I once did some research on it and discovered stuff about circadian rhythms…



But I digress.


So, between bites of my egg sandwich and sips of my orange juice, I am watching Breakfast at Tiffany's. You know, I've never seen this movie in it's entirety… but I've seen enough to know what it's about. To me, it's the movie where Audrey Hepburn acts stupid and annoying. That's right. I said it.



All right, all right… simmer down just a bit, people…


I love Audrey Hepburn, but I must be the only person in this world who finds her character annoying in this film. Yet, I watch it whenever I catch it on TV. Why? Because I hate it so much that I like it… and because I want to know what exactly it is about this movie that appeals to so many people across so many generations. Could somebody please tell me? Lord knows, I'd be willing to watch the dang film again just to see if what you say is true. Is it because of the book? Should I read the book maybe?


I've never read anything by Truman Capote, but I have considered it. I almost bought In Cold Blood once, but for some reason, just holding the book in the bookstore gave me this weird, uncomfortable vibe. Almost spine-chilling. It was like touching something haunted. So, I had to put it back. Yes, that's weird. I know.


You know, now that I think of it, maybe the reason people enjoy watching this movie so much is BECAUSE of the character Audrey Hepburn plays, and not despite it. I say this because I also get a teensy bit annoyed with Barbra Streissand's character in The Way We Were, yet I do love that movie. Still, again, I have to say… Barbra Streissand's character only gets frustrating because she's too complicated, not because she's flaky and aloof (like Audrey Hepburn's character). So, maybe that's it.


I will tell you one thing, though. One thing I love about older films is that everything is so neat and tidy. Like… nobody had clutter back then. Where is all their clutter? It's kind of a minimalist period with not too many knick-knacks, and everybody always looked so neat and pressed and presentable. No wrinkles on their clothes. No hairs out of place. No chipped nail polish or scuffs on their shoes. And ladies always had these cute little handbags that they never had to rummage through. Any time they reached in, they pulled out exactly what they were looking for: a simple little compact, a lipstick, or a tissue.


My great-grandmother used to do that. The contents of her purse were simple: an angel face compact, some Rolaids, and some tissues… maybe a little comb, and a little notepad.


Hmmm… maybe that's why I don't like Audrey Hepburn's character in this movie… because to me, life at that time was supposed to be so simple, and things could have been so easy for her, yet she ruined it all by acting stupid and making things so difficult. Why couldn't she just fall in love?!!! Aaaghh! Stupid girl! Just like K-k-k-Katy in The Way We Were! (except she was stupid for a different reason)


Okay, okay… so the later (or earlier) it gets, and the more I examine Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn's character), the more I begin to appreciate the film…even though she irks the heck out of me…


Besides, I just saw the happy ending… and I love the song Moon River… =)

New Year's Resolve

Several times I attempted writing a blog before the coming of the new year, and several times I went into an emotional frenzy as a result. I didn't want to let go. I wasn't ready to let go. Not of everything. But of one thing, in particular.

For some time, I've been mourning over this particular event. A certain unanswered prayer. One that saddens me to no end. But I know that it is something that I must let go.

After several crying episodes, I resigned my attempts to write a graceful good-bye and wrote to Mine in Manhatitlan instead.

"There is so much I want to say right now, so much that is going through my head, but I am stumped… I don't know how to explain any of it…" I wrote. "The thing that has me sad right now is that love hurts..." I commented pathetically. I rambled about miscellaneous thoughts, mentioning an unrequited love, a couple of other worries, as well as my attempts to deal with all of my grief. "I don't know what the heck is wrong with me," I ended.

As always, Mine in Manhatitlan heard my cries over many states and responded faithfully.

"… this isn't the end of things really. Nothing ever is. Things change. Life keeps going," he offered sympathetically.

Did I know this? A long time ago, I did. But for a while, I seemed to have forgotten. I seem to forget a lot sometimes. Things that are right in front of me go unnoticed, and sometimes I tend to lose sight of my goals, reasons for making certain decisions, reasons to be thankful…

His correspondence continued with more words of solace, and even an expression of regret at not being able to offer a single brother as a potential mate. In essence, demonstrating how he appreciates my worth more so than I do myself. The beautiful thing is that other people—friends and family alike--have expressed similar sentiments lately, reminding me that not only am I not a cast-off, but that I am truly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life. And also reminding me that I am loved… whether I realize it or not.

I've concluded that all this time I've dreaded not having a potential object for my affection worse than I've dreaded losing one that will never reciprocate how I feel, and it's taken me this long to realize that I must let go of the old in order to grab onto something new. As simple as that may seem, it has not been simple to do. But this year I resolve to do it anyway.