CENSORSHIP SUCKS

I don’t want to be told what I can READ.

I don’t want to be told what I can LEARN.

I don’t want to be told what I can KNOW.

It terrifies me that we are looking at bills that could potentially limit the amount of information available to us on the internet.  Freedom is what this country was built on and one person or, for that matter any group of people, having the power to decide that I should not see something is the opposite of freedom.

Borrowed from Kate Bartolotta at Elephant Journal is this excerpt:

“There are other parts of the law that say that if there are sites overseas that the Attorney General doesn’t like, the Attorney General without any other adversarial proceeding can get an order asking American internet companies to cut off that site. In essence, this law takes a page out of the playbooks of China and Iran for internet regulation.”

~ Jonathan Zittrain, Professor of Internet Law; Harvard Law School.

All over the internet you’ll find far more eloquently written information than I could possible put out here, but I can put it here and that’s what matters.  I can look at the links and gain insights here and here and even here.  I can ask you to visit those links and make your own assessments.  I can continue to use the internet to search for more information on SOPA.

or I can choose not to.  but it’s my choice.  as it should be.

So…. now what?

Wow, it’s funny, for all the bitching I did about how marathon training was cutting into my social life, I guess on some level, I didn’t realize how much of my life it was really taking up. Not just the actual training, but the being constantly aware of it, wondering if I’d slept enough, ate the right combination of foods and was it too much or tool little and did I get enough yoga in to counter all the muscle tightening from all the running…. It took up a huge chunk of my brain power. But it also gave me purpose and direction. My running was all of a sudden focused on an end result.  A solid goal. So with the marathon has been completed (hold applause, thank you), now what?

Ummm…… (crickets)

I literally don’t know what to do. Should I get up to run? All of a sudden, it seems weird to run, just to run. Pre-marathon training, this was not an issue. All I ever did was run, just to run. Now it seems…off? There’s no goal? I have no schedule to follow? How do I know what to do? Should I run hills? Intervals? Distance? What distance? This is weird! This is how race directors suck you back in! They know you’ll be flailing to find purpose and direction again. This is why I keep getting emails from RunDisney. They’ve got me. I don’t know how to stop. All of a sudden I’m not only considering the Princess Half Marathon at the end of February, but also another full.  On February 12, my brother’s birthday.  I ran one on my birthday, how cool would it be to run one on his birthday in the same year.  It would be touching.  It would be EPIC. What the fuck is wrong with me? Yikes. Ok, I need to get control of this before I end up dead smack in the middle of marathon training again.

Step 1. Breathe in.
Step 2. Breathe out.
Step 3. Repeat as necessary.

Here are some other things I might try…

Practice yoga. Whoa. I wonder what my body could do without all that running tightening up my hips all the time.

Go swimming. That’s right, there are other types of exercise out there. Remember that? Swimming was fun. It made my arms look good.  Also, nobody yells at me for holding my breath.

Ride a bike. I’m sure that I remember how. It’s just like … riding a bike. Sure, I can do that.

Go running.  Wait, how did I end up back here?  Yeah, I’m admittedly a little afraid to lose my newfound endurance.  Plus running still presents so many challenges.  New distances, like the Gasparilla 15k and the Ragner Relay from Miami to Key West.  Plus, I could certainly put in an effort to get faster.

Maybe it’s time to try a tri?  Definitely a new challenge.

Sit still.  Uh, scary.  Really, really scary.  You know what happens when I sit still?  My brain goes on a crazy bender.  It’s not pretty in there.

Well, I guess the truth is, I don’t know yet.  It’s really only been three days since the marathon.  I’m not quite feeling totally wound up yet.  I’ll take a few more days off to think about it.  In the meantime, I’m open for suggestions…

You’re better than that…

This phrase is a gem.  One of my personal favorites.  It’s nearly always said after you’ve already done something totally stupid.  As in “Oh, last night I slept with that guy I broke up with 6 months ago.”  To which your friends kindly respond with “You’re better than that.”   Um.  No I’m fucking not.  If I were better than that, I wouldn’t have done it.

You know I’m right.  I mean, what is the purpose of saying that to someone?  Just to make them feel bad?  Cause there is no other reason.  It’s not like I’ve ever looked at someone who said that to me and responded with “Wow, thank you for saying that.  I feel really loved right now.”  No, the closest thing I’ve ever come to in response is more along the lines of “No, fucking shit I’m better than that.  That’s why I’m spilling my guts to you, you fucking moron.  So that I can confess the sins of stupidity, seek redemption and move the fuck on.  But now that you’ve pointed out how stupid my decision was, let me jump in my god damn time machine and go fix it.  Thanks for your insight.”

Yeah, that phrase really bothers me.

2012

Breathe. Consciously.  Drink more water. Eat less sugar. Run. Stretch. Remember that Karma is only a bitch if you are. Give more. Want less. Love, love, love. Have fun. Be BRAVE. Cry as necessary, but no more.  Remember that life begins at the end of your comfort zone.  Remember that only you can change your fate.  Remember that an eye for eye makes us all blind.  Learn.  Create.  Inspire.  Have a little faith that it will all work out.  Believe in the here and now.  Be present.  Dance more.  Dream more.  Be reckless with your heart, but not other’s.  Own your decisions.  Own your thoughts and stances.  Own your sexuality.  Sleep enough.  Meditate.  Spend more time barefoot in the sand.  Relax.  Take a picture.  or two. Draw.  Paint.  Play.  Embrace life.  Enjoy the journey.  When you fall down, get up.  When the going gets tough, get tougher.  and bring back-up.  Smile.  Remember that bad decisions make good stories.  Try something new…anything.  Be the change you want to see in the world.  Don’t just live, thrive.

Being Brave

So I’d bounced the idea of blogging around with several friends. Some who are new to blogging, some who have done it for years.  And ultimately, I started one.  On the advice of a dear, dear friend, and experienced blogger, I started a blog under a pen name.  Her advice was good at the time, it gave me the courage to create that first blog post.  What difference did it make what was out there if nobody knew it was me, and couldn’t even find me if they googled me.  But after the first post, nothing.  It occurred to me recently, that the reason I’ve done nothing more with it, was because it sort of felt like hiding, which was just the opposite of what I was I was trying to accomplish.  See what I was really looking for was a bit of an outlet.  I place to share my random, zany thoughts and maybe the occasional crazy story.  So I’ve started over.  Right here.  Where I’ve decided to be brave and where I can be me and people (you) can judge me on the good, the bad and the ugly of who I really am.   Because ultimately, as the ever wise Dr. Seuss puts it , “those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.”   So I’ve copies my little intro blog below and this is me.  Really me.  Tatum. Ann.  Bacchi.  Being brave.  Whoa.

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So I’m going to go out on a limb and say they first blog is the hardest. a. I’m sharing my innermost thoughts with you, the reader (who may exist only in my mind.) b. I’m undecided if I should jump right in from where I sit, or if there is a need to bring you up to speed on my life. So based on these two things I’m having a hard time getting started, which will no doubt end in a plethora of verbal diarrhea which may or may not be funny, sarcastic, thought provoking and/or heartbreaking. Probably not all tonight.  Also there’s pressure. People read blogs. I read blogs. I want people to enjoy my blog, like I enjoy the blogs of several people I do and do not know.

So here are a few things I feel like I should get out there.

I use the term “friends” loosely and may or may not elaborate on that in my “writing” (another term I’ll use lightly).  Sometimes when I say friends, I mean friends. Of which I have 15-20. I recognize them as people who are relatively local, who would join me for a beer, who may or may not be there for me in a time of need (i.e. blown tire) should I try to call.  Sometimes I say friends and I mean acquaintances. I have about a hundred or so. Someone I may go out of my way to meet for a drink if I happen to be in walking distance of where they are standing and who entertain me, generally through social media. Most of these friends don’t yet know that I’m crazy, much less have they learned to embrace my insanity.  I have my best friends. I have about 5. Don’t ask me how I have 5 best friends.  The term ‘best’ is overrated when it comes to friends.  These friends are the best friends I got and I love them. They are not all local. Most of them would laugh at me if I asked them to change my tire because they already know I can do it my damn self and if I’m calling them it’s cause I’m being lazy.  or want someone to buy me a beer.  Some of them would get on a plane to buy me a beer if the situation called for it.

Next, plan on seeing a lot of quotes from me.  Not actual quotes, but quotation marks, air quotes if you will.  I embrace the use of air quotes in my day to day life and feel the need to translate that to paper.  (Is that backwards?)  Anyway, you’ll commonly see quotes on words such as “working,” “focused” and “meditation.”  You may see them with one quote mark like ‘this’ or two, like “this.”  Mostly because, based on an apparently questionable education, I don’t know the difference.

Here’s my general deal.  I’m single.  I own my own home where I live with two dogs who I love more than life and drive me nuts.  I am the female version of the stereotypical bachelor.  I’m typing this in my underwear.  My underwear are probably cuter than the stereotypical bachelor’s.   It took me eight tries to type “stereotypical bachelor” twice because I’m a bottle in to a nice organic red wine.  (let’s go ahead and make that 10 for 3.)  I drink in “moderation” and “moderation” is an imaginary place that exists wherever I am.   I alternate between playing too hard and working too hard because frankly, the concept of actual moderation is lost on me.  I steal quotes and don’t always give credit.

Lastly, I have horrible language.  If some giant blogging conglomerate picks me up and tells me to clean it up, I may or may not consider doing so.  Fuck is part of my everyday language.  It is unfortunately not part of my everyday life (one of the many things I’ll be vomiting on you, my now faithful reader.) So if you’re easily offended by foul language, honest sex talk, stories of drunken debauchery or the use of air quotes.  This blog is not for you.  Just sayin.

So this is it, my first few paragraphs into becoming a blogger.  Hopefully this blog will get sexier and more entertaining as time goes by and I figure some shit out.  Like me.