And it just hit me.

Dude and I haven’t been together long, just over a month. It’s been great, I’m not complaining. There is absolutely nothing bad or irritating about the guy. What’s wrong is me. I’m cranky, impatient, sarcastic, snappish–basically not very pleasant. Not to mention the fact that I’m messy by nature. It’s not intentional. That’s just the way I am.

That’s why instead of being over the moon last night, I started crying. See? I’m a crybaby as well. Because Dude said the three magic words that meant he was in for the long haul, that he wanted this relationship: I love you.

Wow.

Of course I love the guy too. How can I not? But he is so wonderful and I’m..crap. Flies-swarming-over-crap. “I don’t get you plenty of times,” Dude said, “but I know this time you’re being ridiculous.”  Let the evidence speak:

1) I always forget to return the towels to the bathroom, where they can hang and dry, and often leave them bunched up on the bed or the floor. So when it’s left on the bed, the bed gets wet too, and the towel doesn’t smell so nice. It drives Dude crazy and I really, really forget. As a guy who always sees argument as the last resort, he picks up these towels and hangs them in the bathroom.

2)I sat on his glasses, crushing them. Dude just shook his head and even laughed. “It’s not like I can’t get a new one right away,” he said. Why wasn’t he upset? Because I forgot that my boyfriend doesn’t have trouble in the finances department. But if he did that to my glasses, I’d be pretty upset and maybe even tell him that he’s pretty careless.

3)He calls the MMDA, the cops, waiters, “Boss.” Maybe I can understand why you call a waiter boss, I mean if you treat him like crap he’s gonna spit on your food, for sure. But those cops who get drivers to pull over for some dubious offense during lunchtime? Dude calls them boss! I get their badge numbers and mouth off my rights as a citizen. For me argument is always an option.

4)He doesn’t want me doing anything when eating at his place. Not even set the table. Or wash the dishes. He said my job was to just sit there and admire his prowess with washing the dishes. Oh-kaay. Or I can cheer him on.

5)The other day, while looking for my glasses, I opened a drawer and saw a small picture in it. It was me. I knew he saw that often because it was where he kept his new eyeglasses. I keep his photo in the bag that came when I had a stack printed out. Buried somewhere in my room.

6) He calls me Funny Face. Dude is the closest to my giving him a pet name but that’s just to hide his real name. Couple names such as “sweetheart,” and “honey” make me cringe.

7) He brought me to lunch with his mom, a small, smiling woman with his eyes. I haven’t even told my Mom about him. Mentioned maybe, that I was seeing someone, and not serious.

He thinks Megan Fox isn’t that hot. I know. There is something wrong here.

9) He has iteneraries for the day. Sometimes for the hour. He keeps lists of what to do. I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. He says organization helps in tempering temper when crazy hits. He might be on to something but I can’t keep still long enough to even think of planning.

10) He thinks I’m wonderful just the way I am. Sure, I could be less cranky, less annoyed and more patient but I’ve been like that from the very beginning. “Besides, it’s not like you need a major overhaul,” he told me. But I do want to be less annoyed and be more patient. I do want to be a better person. As for Dude, he’s great. Just..great.

Just nu är jag irriterad på dessa små fjortisbloggarna!!! Varför ska man ha en blogg när man lever på att göra folk ledsna, eller att bara klaga??? Mina två största irritations moment är dessie och kissie. Fast Dessie är den jag tycker är värst. Kissie har man liksom överseende med eftersom man vet hur hon är. Men när den andra bimbon håller på att skriver om hur mycket hon avskyr feta människor osv. Ja, jag är en av tjockisarna, en av dom där som hon ser ner på… Det dom inte fattar är att man inte alltid kan rå för hur man ser ut. Jag har inte ätit mig till min övervikt! Och man behöver inte höra från alla håll hur ful och fet man är, för tro mig, när man är kraftig så VET man det!!! Och nej, det är inte alltid lätt att göra någonting åt!  Jag gick upp till att börja med för att jag åt mediciner. Det var inte särskilt roligt kan jag lova, för innan dess var jag smal, ett tag var jag till och med riktigt riktigt smal. Vilket gör det hela ännu jobbigare när dom ska tala om hur äcklig man är. Och visst jag behöver inte läsa, jag vet det. Men jag tycker det är så förbaskat onödigt att dom ska sätta upp sjuka ideal för unga tjejer. För oavsett om dom vill eller inte så är dom folks förebilder, och jag måste erkänna att dessie är en väääääldigt dålig förebild.  Blir så arg!!!!

Idag har jag jobbat. Hemma och irriterad eftersom jag ringde vårdcentralen och skulle förnya ett recept, då ger jag mitt nummer och sen ringer de upp, och efter en halv signal lägger de på, får ringa  imorgon igen, tror de bara  har telefontid till 16. Sen är jag fortfarande irriterad på att det inte går att länka youtubeklipp i bloggen, är det bloggen eller youtube det är fel på? Who knows.

Eftersom det snart är dags för decennieskifte, så kan jag passa på att summera 00-talet; HEMSKT! Inte lika hemskt som 90-talet, jag avskydde 90-talet då det begav sig, och jag avskyr 90-talet nu. Finns iof vissa saker med 90-talet jag gillar, men det är inte mycket. Jag är dock en äkta nostalgiker, så om tio år då 90-talet ligger som en geggig dimma i min hjärna så kommer jag säkert tänka tillbaka på det med en tår i ögat. Allt blir fantastiskt efter tillräckligt lång tid. Men det var 90-talet det, och vi skulle prata om 00-talet, skärpning.

Hade jag vetat vid millenieskiftet hur 00-talet skulle bli så hade jag förmodligen tagit livet av mig, men det gjorde jag inte, och som tur är vet jag inte hur 10-talet kommer te sig så det blir inga självmordsförsök nu heller. Men nu orkar jag inte summera 00-talet mer, jag får fortsätta senare.

Spotify: CDM Project – Tears Don’t Lie

Vaken och inte naken. Jag är irriterad, går inte att bädda in youtube-klipp på bloggen. Ska jobba senare idag också.

Spotify: Lady Gaga – Eh, Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say) – Pet Shop Boys Radio Mix

Om jag ska vara lite positiv igen så köpte jag nya batterier till staven…jag menar…datormusen, idag. Mitt tålamod höll på att försvinna ut i rymden efter fem minuter då muspilen börjar fladdra åt håll den inte ska fladdra åt. NYA batterier som tar slut på fem min, det är inte acceptabelt. Så jag ska antingen (för att jag inte orkar tjaffsa) gå någon annanstans och köpa nya, eller lägga butiksinnehavarens testiklar i en sån här:

Bye så länge.

Spotify: Sven-Bertil Taube – Fritiof Och Carmencita (Tango I Samborombon)

Jag står inte ut med mig själv vissa dagar och idag är en sådan dag!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Som om inte det vore nog så håller batterierna på att ta slut i tangentbordet OCH musen, och detta bara för att jag hatar sladdar som samlar damm.

Spotify: Gitte Henning – La La La (Lyckolåten)

I can do things differently than upset and irritation.

Il pleut. Ça me rappelle qu’on est en automne et qu’on a été très chanceux de ne pas avoir plus de pluie à date. Il a fait soleil régulièrement et on a eu une température tolérable.

Je pense que l’automne commence enfin à me rentrer dedans, là. Je suis plus distraite, plus irritable, moins concentrée et motivée au travail. Et je procrastiiiiine.

J’ai besoin de bottes d’hiver avant qu’on reçoive une bordée de neige de 3 mètres. Et je pourrais remettre mon manteau de l’année passée, j’ai envie d’un beau manteau. Un manteau qui va me donner l’air d’une femme et pas du bonhomme Michelin. Mais, je niaise. Je vais être à la dernière minute et il n’y aura plus rien dans ma taille. Le temps que je me décide à me chercher un manteau, ce sera le linge d’été qu’il y aura en boutique et probablement que les gougounes moches à bijoux seront aussi sur les étalages. Et les bikinis. Ça va me donner des cauchemars jusqu’au printemps.

Mais, j’ai toujours une bonne excuse…les devoirs à faire, mon sac est déjà assez lourd, j’ai trop chaud, pas d’argent, ça me tente pas.

LÀ, je suis décidée. Je vais affronter les foules en fin de semaine après le gym. Allez hop, les bottes et le manteau. On est déjà le 20 novembre. Ça serait bien que je sois équipée pour la première tempête !

What the hell!

Does anyone know why the heck I can sit here for four friggen hours without one damn phone call coming in on the main lines, but as SOON as I get my tush up, to use the little girls room… THE DAMN PHONE WON’T STOP RINGING!

My pre-new years resolution is to shatter this here POS phone as soon as humanly possible…

GAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

anywho.

So I was thinking, and reading other people’s blogs. I have come to the conclusion that “Bloggers” are a different breed. What the heck is everyone talking about????

like seriously talking about stuff that makes no sense. Or maybe I’m just on another planet and suddenly lost the ability to think competently. I just don’t understand why people have photos of Llamas and a starbucks coffee and suddenly its a four page conversation on our healthcare system. How did a Llama even get involved.?!  Did he kill a doctor? Is he pregnant? Does he have a comprehensive benefits package through his “alpaca” farm?

I. am. SO. confungled.

With Love and a little sarcasm,

Kymlee

Hemma från jobbet. Är ett  vrak eftersom jag bara fick tjugo minuters sömn inatt. Det berodde på att jag drack kaffe sent igår eftermiddag, det fungerar inte för mig helt enkelt, för koffeinkänslig. Nu ska jag sova ett par timmar så jag blir människa igen.

Spotify: Peggy Lee – Is That All There Is

Det här jävla numret ringer mig 4-5 gånger om dagen. Varenda dag! När man svarar är det bara helt tyst i luren. Jag är nästan helt säker på att det är ett telemarketingföretag som har något fel på sitt automatiska uppringningssystem. Jag kan absolut ha förståelse för att systemfel kan uppstå, men det här är terror. Letat och letat, men hittar inte innehavaren. Vid sökning på numret på Google ser man att jag uppenbarligen inte är ensam om problemet. Det är fler som lider av numret. Det verkar vara Transcom, men inte helt säkert. I morgon ringer jag Telia och försöker spåra de här idioterna. Sen tänker jag ägna mig åt att busringa till VDn för företaget, lika många gånger som hans system busringer till mig. Jag slutar när de slutar. Nu får det vara nog!

So if you can believe everything you hear and read the world is about to implode. OK I am being a little bit dramatic. But in reality there has been a lot going on with Iran in the last couple of weeks. One of witch being the President of Iran’s visit to the United States. I am not even going to attempt to spell his name. I watched his interview with Katie Couric and found the way he turned every answer around to be anti-American sickening. Being an American I know that I am biased and pro American. Look I know that there is more to the story of the Iranian election, but the truth is that he didn’t allow western media to come into the country. The only information western media outlets received were from angry citizen’s twitter pages. And we all know that people are sound and rational on the their twitter pages. As a historian I know that bias will always happen. There is no such thing as an unbiased angle or an unbiased story because even if all you have are the facts, and are presenting no opinion, it is your opinion how and in what order you present those facts. So opinion will always rage on.

En snabb kvällsuppdatering från mig, humöret är inte på topp och inte energin heller för den delen.

Igår så var vi till Umeå över dagen och vi kan konstatera följande (citat från det jag skrev åt Hanna på MSN ikväll när jag berättade om gårdagen och hur uppgiven jag är) : Att ha med svenska sjukvården att göra är som att slåss med en tandpetare mot en hop zombies.

Däremot så var det roligt att tillbringa en timme på Myrornas secondhand och kika runt, det är ganska mycket större (och dyrare) än här i Luleå. Hittade flera snygga lampor och lite annat vi var sugna på men som jag skrev ovan så var det rätt så dyrt…

Vitsen med secondhand är ju att fynda billiga och gärna lite annorlunda saker, då har man ingen lust att betala 200 kr för en taklampa och så vidare. Men vi fyndade lite smågrejer iaf, inget dyrt och inget vi har idas fota.

Idag har vi bara slappat och vilat, älsklingen var ganska sliten efter gårdagen vilket man kan förstå, ingen av oss tycker ju om sjukhus och när det dessutom inte går som väntat så är det ju ännu värre.

Fick förresten paket från Estland idag… En klänning från Hanna som jag ääälskar!! Har redan samma klänning i enfärgad lila, brun (2 st), svart och en mönstrad i blått och svart. Nu har jag tack vare Hanna en sjunde klänning som är mönstrad i rött och svart

Direkt den kom så åkte den på och fick bli dagens outfit, tack för presenten vännen!!

Klänning Gina Tricot strl M (dagens post från Hanna), stickade leggings H&M strl L, svarta mockaskor Scorett strl 38

Och här kommer gårdagens outfit :

Tröjan är strl M från H&M. Leggings strl L från Lindex. Overknee sockar från KappAhl.

/ Sarah

Sluta spekulera i varför jag åkte hem. Sluta säg att jag har gett upp. Ni har ingen aning om varför jag tog ett uppehåll, ingen jävla aning alls. Så snälla, bara lägg ned.

Annars; stickar mig en ny mössa, har hälsat på min farfar, har fått ett nytt kusinbarn, och läst hp nästan hela dagen.

Here’s my excuse:  Apparently Kindles need a break every now and then.  My Kindle has been returned to me.  (See yesterday’s entry.)  It is like a boomerang. Here’s the history of my Kindle.

I received it sometime this summer, with great excitement and glee and it instantly became my dearest inanimate companion.  (You can read yesterday’s entry for more on that.)  I bought it a purple leather cover.  I made a shrine to it… okay, I didn’t, but I love it.  No more teetering stacks of books on my bedside table.  Just one sleek electronic device.

In late June I took the Kindle to Sequim Washington where Jesus and I were doing a seminar on the Constructional Aggression Treatment.  I had to leave early because I received a call that my ailing father had taken a turn for the worse.  I and all my stuff were taken to the tiny airport where I would hitch a ride to Seattle and fly to Dallas, then drive to East Texas where my Dad was entering hospice care.

I stepped off the teeny plane and walked across the tarmac dragging my suitcase and lugging a carry on and got all the way inside the airport before realizing I’d left the Kindle in the seat pocket.  I panicked and asked someone to help because the plane was ROLLING and I was afraid he was going to taxi off to the runway with my Kindle.  A very nice young man (probably in his 40s) went out and got it off the plane, and returned it to me wearing a bemused… nay… annoyed… expression.

I went out front and got on a bus which would take me to the big airport.  I started chatting with the folks around me.  I hopped off the bus and went off toward the airport terminal, and realized I’d forgotten my Kindle in the seat pocket.  Note to self: DO NOT PUT KINDLE IN PUBLIC TRANSPORT SEAT POCKETS!!!!  I dashed back.  Dashing is something less than running, but still took my breath away.

I got off the bus again and scurried (slower than dashing, faster than walking) through the very long airport to catch the next plane only to realize that I had my Kindle … but I didn’t have  MY SUITCASE!!!!  This wasn’t a normal lay over.  It was a wee-plane to big-plane switcheroo, and I had zoned out thinking about my Dad and forgot that it was do-it-yourself service from thither to yon.

I ran back (literally ran… if you can imagine that) back to the other end of the airport only to see two men standing with my suitcase, scratching their heads.  Between gasps I called out, “That’s mine!”  They looked at me as I slowed to a dash and then a scurry and finally a stertorous stop. One of them said, “Well, did ya forget your luggage now?” I refrained from offering a clever retort only because I was out of breath. He said, “We were just deciding what to do about it and here you came running!” I replied something like, “Pant, pant, pant… Thank pant you pant pant… so pant pant… much pant pant pant.”

“Are you alright then?  Anything else I can help you with?”  The other man was just grinning.  I wondered if they knew the guy who went to grab my Kindle off the wee plane.

There have been nights when Kindle spent the night at one of my offices.  There have been days when my Kindle was at home and I wished it were with me, where ever I was.  But I got the DX… a bigger version of the Kindle… and it didn’t fit well into any of my purses so I was always leaving it elsewhere because I have so much stuff to tote at work.  That lead to me buying the nice purple tote I wrote about yesterday.  I’m hoping it will resolve my Kindle forgetting.  We’ll see.

So, what have I learned from all this?  That I do indeed have an attachment to inanimate objects problem. I wonder what I would have felt if I had forever lost a couple dozen of my favorite hard copy books.  Would I have felt the sense of panic … and of dukkha … that I felt last night when my Kindle was missing?  I don’t think so.  I think it was the $500 bucks we doled out on the device and the $50 more on the cover that made it such a big deal.  It is actually a device I coveted but didn’t need, and certainly didn’t miss before I got it.  But I had an attachment to getting it.  I really wanted it. And when I found out I could get a purple cover for it… well… it was mine.

Another lesson in dukkha.  What do you do about the attachment when something is lost then returns to you?  If I were a good Buddhist I might get rid of the Kindle.  Sell it on Ebay, donate the money to the SPCA?  But I would still have my attachment to books.  I would still have attachments to all sorts of things.  And I’ve learned much of what little I know about Buddhism on my Kindle.  So.  I don’t know what else to say about that except that I’m keeping my Kindle.  Unless I lose it for real sometime.  (I’m not really a Buddhist, I’m just saying…and I’m going to write separately on the Complete Buddhist… stay tuned.)

And that brings to mind what I automatically did last night.  I quickly came to the conclusion that it had been stolen, possibly by one of the two women standing in the bag section looking at wallets.  I very quickly dismissed the notion that maybe I forgot it somewhere again. I did fleetingly think that if I had left it in my cart (which I had) someone had already swiped it.  But I had, they handn’t, and no one did any swiping.  It was just me being forgetful.  (Forgetfulness drives me crazy but I’m SOOO good at it!) And me learning that blaming people isn’t too helpful.

Here’s what I did with my dukkha last night.  Whenever I would think about the Kindle and feel angry or sick, I would stop myself and say, “Okay, be with that feeling.”  And I would think about the knot in my stomach and just make myself stay there with that physical sensation.  And the sensation went away.  By the time I went to bed I was still disappointed, but I was okay. I had let go.  I was doing okay with the loss.  I still had work to do on it, but I was very nearly okay.

This process seems to have desensitized me to the loss.  This morning when I first woke up and thought about it, I felt a lesser sense of loss, but went into it, just went to that dull feeling and stayed with it.  It diminished.

So when I checked my voice mail and got a message saying the Kindle had been found in the shopping cart where I’d carelessly left it, I felt a little bewildered.  Really?  I was so sure it was gone for good.  I’d done my homework in letting go of the attachment.  I’d refrained from ordering another Kindle, not just because it was expensive but because I wasn’t sure I needed to have one.  (Okay, to be sure I did peek at the new Kindle model when I went online to cut off my Kindle service last night.  It’s smaller and will fit in more purses, AND it has global wireless, not just in the USA.  I don’t leave the country that often, but that would be cool… At cocktail parties I could say, “Oh, yes, I downloaded that book while vacationing in Belize.”  Of course I haven’t been to a cocktail party in 20 years. And I’ve never been to Belize. But the DX has a rotating display, and that does come in handy sometimes.  So, yeah, I would have ordered another Kindle.)

Kindle is home now, and fortunately I did not return the purple Kindle Purse, although I have yet to find a bag for inside the Kindle purse.  Maybe Ziploc makes something suitable. (See yesterday’s post for more on that, too.)  I re-registered her immediately.  It was super easy to do… even a thief could have done it.  See?  There I go again.

Good Karma to you,

Meditator Tot

Ännu en gång höjs kritiska röster mot Internetoperatörerna för att de väljer att radera logguppgifter som gör en koppling mellan ett ip-nummer och fysisk person möjlig efter så kort tid att man inte kan begära ut uppgifter i brottsutredningar.

En mer rättvisande rubrik hade varit att Ipred saboterar brottsutredningar eftersom det är precis det som det handlar om. Polis och åklagare hinner inte begära ut uppgifter som rör grova brott, därför att en skräckslagen industri ville ha en gräddfil till dessa uppgifterna efter att ha insett att HD inte bedömde illegal fildelning som ett tillräckligt allvarligt brott för att man skulle få ut sådana uppgifter.

Istället för att kräva lagändringar kanske man skulle ta sig en funderare över hur det egentligen ligger till. Ipred möjliggör att privata aktörer kan begära ut uppgifter för att lösa ett brott som HD bedömer saknar det straffvärde som krävs för att polisen ska kunna begära ut motsvarande uppgifter. Är det en rimlig ordning?

Och att lägga skulden på operatörerna är bara fånigt eftersom det i LEK står klart och tydligt att operatörerna inte får lagra dessa uppgifterna längre tid än nödvändigt för faktureringsuppgifter och för att kunna upprätthålla säkerheten i sina nät.
Alltså begär IFPI&co. att operatörerna ska bryta mot lagen för att de ska kunna leka polis, alternativt att den lagstiftande församlingen ändrar i berörda lagar för att uppnå samma syfte (något som kan ske i och med datalagringsdirektivet). Båda alternativen lämnar en besk eftersmak.

Att Ipred innebär att polis och åklagare mister möjligheten att utreda grova brott ser jag som problematiskt, men felet ligger inte hos operatörerna. Felet ligger hos en industri som förklarat krig mot sina kunder, att lösa problemet är enkelt; släng Ipred i papperskorgen och låt riktiga poliser utreda riktiga brott.
Illegal fildelning kommer aldrig någonsin att kunna komma upp i samma nivå som de brotten som krävs för att polisen ska få begära ut motsvarande uppgifter som Ifpi vill åt, hur mycket upphovsrättslobbyn skriker.

När jag ändå är inne på denna linjen så har ett flertal de senaste dagarna påpekat att det finns siffror som pekar på att de enda som förlorar på fildelning är skivbolagen och inte artisterna som lobbyn ofta vill påstå.
Något som inte direkt är någon nyhet.

Andra som skriver: Mary X Jensen, Leo Erlandsson, Fritänk och Stefan Wikén
Intressant

I had a Kindle DX.  It was the object-love of my life.  Aside from my Element, my Kindle was my favorite inanimate object.  Well, except for my angled rug hook, my sock monkey slippers and my computer.  And my Merrell’s work shoes.  And our Tempurpedic bed.  In fact, the Kindle and the Tempurpedic … does anyone need anything else, really?  Really?

I was having this problem with the kindle.  It didn’t fit in my main purse, and any other bags I had were too giant and irritating, so I went out looking for a bag for my Kindle.  It’s own pursey bag to be carried in.  I went to TJ Max.  (You can get the max for the minimum at TJ Max.)  Brought my Kindle.  Let it try on several purses.  Settled on a purple tote that somewhat matched my Kindle’s outfit, a purple Kindle Cover. I was happy, Kindle was happy.  I paid for the bag, and some hand lotion, and went to my car.  I drove home.  I started to get out of the car, and Kindle wasn’t there.  I panicked.  I said Burma.  I freaked out.  I searched the car and SPED back to TJ Max.  The manager was quite pleasant but hadn’t had one turned in.  I wanted to have an anxiety attack or something.  I was just sick.  I retraced my steps through the store, when it dawned on me that it had been stolen.

The store was packed.  It looked like Christmas shopping going down in there.  I had pulled up next to a couple of women looking at clutches… I was hoping to find a small bag to fit inside my Kindle bag that could be pulled out when I wanted to go places Kindle didn’t need to go.  (Not many places, but I was in a very consumer mood.  A purse for my Kindle, a bag for my Kindle’s purse.  Made sense to me.)

I realized that just before that was the last time I saw Kindle.  I called home and my hubby dearest got online and realized, no, there isn’t any insurance on it, and no, Amazon doesn’t really have any way to stop people from re-registering a device as stolen and preventing downloads … or at least no policy of doing that.  Apparently Kindles are big business in the Thieving and conniving business these days.  They could easily make a stolen Kindle worthless by never allowing it to be registered again without certain backflips, but no.  All I could do was “Deregister” the Kindle and feel like crying.  I didn’t actually cry but I really, really felt like it.  I LOVE MY KINDLE AND WANT IT BACK.  It had my business cards in the pocket with my work phone number, but my work cell hasn’t rung, and it’s not going to.  At least not with someone saying they have my Kindle and want me to have it back.

So I drove back home, feeling just like crap, really.  I mean, really!  I was BUYING my KINDLE a PURSE and someone STOLE it!  Now I have a stupid purple tote that doesn’t have even one Kindle DX to its name.  I was driving and it was dark and people are SO STUPID when they drive at night.  They just cruise along like they have all the time in the world and don’t even CARE that someone MIGHT have had her KINDLE stolen, DAMN THEM TO HELL AND BACK!!!

So, I’m driving in the dark and I happened to touch my neck and a tiny little pendant I got in the mail today.  It is a silver circle.  On one side is a Japanese character, and on the other, the meaning translated into English.  Zen.  Meditate.  Be here now.

I didn’t want to be there, because there was very, very VERY very annoying and I wanted to be anywhere but there.  But I wasn’t somewhere else, I was there.  I was there, in my car on a dark Irving Texas road with someone else reading my Zen library… what is someone else going to do with 20 Zen Buddhism books?  Only I need them, do you hear me?

But I touched the little silver sliver and I came back to here, now, and I thought, “This feels really bad.”  Then I’d think of what kind of stinking jerk would steal a Kindle, of all things, and I said, “Okay, but be HERE now.”  And I stayed for a while, but I didn’t really want to at all, so I wondered how mad my husband really was… Kindles aren’t cheap, you know… and I said, “Okay, but be HERE now.”  So I stayed there for maybe a few blocks.  I felt how bad I felt, and I felt the attachment to this thing, this electronic book, this object that had taken on a life of its own.  I thought about attachment and how it causes dukkha (suffering).  I thought about my Kindle.  I thought about dukkha.  I was having a bunch of dukkha.  I hate dukkha.  I think a Buddhist teacher would say I made my dukkha more powerful by staying mad at the person that stole my Kindle.  But I don’t have a zen teacher, so I might as well not get too attached to that whole idea or I’ll have more dukkha.

I thought about the purple leather tote.  I got so mad.  How could I ever use that purse knowing I got it when my Kindle needed something to ride in and that now I don’t have a Kindle at all?  Damn, damn, DAMN!!  Damn, I miss my Kindle.

So I thought, “Be here now.  HERE now.”  I thought, “Damn, I miss my Kindle.  Missing my Kindle hurts.  Now hurts.  I miss my damned Kindle.  I have to let go of my Kindle because it’s gone and I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to, damn it, damn it, damn it.  But that’s all there is to do. All I can do is miss my Kindle because it’s gone.  And most likely, no one is going to give it back.  It is gone.”  I breathed.  I felt the tightness loosen in my chest.  I didn’t feel like crying any more.  I didn’t feel like punishing myself for being so careless anymore.  I still felt sad, but that was valid.  I lost something I didn’t expect to lose.  I’m going to have an extinction burst since that form of reinforcement is no longer available.   There may be another Kindle in my future, but that one is gone.  Breathe.  Gone.  Breathe.  Gone.  Breathe.  Breathe.  Breathe.

I am not quite through being here with the idea that someone has it, but I really have to accept that they have their own Karma.  They have to live out their own choices. They wanted my Kindle, and they didn’t think about what dukkha that would bring on them.  I have no idea if everyone feels dukkha for wrong-doing.  I think they do, but I’m not sure.  What I do know is that it doesn’t help me to create my own dukkha by attaching to my anger at whoever it was.

I’ve lost so many people this year and last.  The Kindle was a little glimmer of happy in a sad couple of years. I could hide in my Kindle.  I felt so rich, knowing I was carrying not just one, but many, many books.  So much knowing in one little place.

I got home, called the Police who very politely took my story over the phone, although I did think they were going a bit far to ask my WEIGHT, for crying out loud.

I’m going to go watch a movie on TV with my husband.  I’m going to drink a glass of wine and I’m going to scratch my dogs where they love to be scratched and when I think about my Kindle I’m going to try to stay here now.  I’m just going to try.  That’s all I can do.

Meditator Tot

. . . and indeed they have.

First, I finally tried out the two cameras I had pulled specifically to use for work for the shop and they both weren’t working. I finally have one up and running but the other is still giving me just a bit of grief.

Second, I just spent a few days making bags. After REPEATED runs through the washing machine AND boiling – everything white IS NOT FELTED.

Third, I feel like all the pictures I took look like poop. Will have to wait until the OmNomNomStudios model, Elizabeth K. – is free.

Fourth, I am feeling more than incredibly nervous about the opening. Worry? Launch fail.

Now that this bleak blog has been written and is ready for post it’s off to begin a new bag that does NOT contain the “colour” white so that it will felt correctly.

This is a practice from my latest book: “Leap Before You Look.” This practice is chosen from the section “Compassion Practices.”

Whenever a judgment or evaluation
Arises within you,
Whether positive or negative,
Add the three words: “. . . just like me.”
You can go ahead and judge another as lazy,
But be inclusive with it:
He is so lazy, just like me.
She is arrogant, just like me.
They are incompetent,
She is unreliable,
He is angry,
Just like me.
Call back positive judgments in the same way:
The Dalai Lama is so wise, just like me.
She is so compassionate,
He is so strong,
Just like me.
In this way, call back every judgment to yourself
And realize that there is no other out there:
It is all you.

Why should it be that when you go to a gathering of people there is always one person who irritates you completely, while your friends or partner find that person quite interesting? And why should it be that someone whom your partner could not stand, you had no issue with? People are not bad or irritating in and of themselves. It is because we project our own disowned fragmented parts outside ourselves that we feel judgment.

It is the habit of the mind in separation to want to externalize everything. If we have not fully accepted the anger or hurt or rigidity we carry within our own hearts, we seek it out in others and blame or judge the qualities we see. You can walk into a room filled with a hundred people, and something unconscious will scan the room and cast out a lasso to the one person there who can reflect back to you the things you could not see or be with in any other way. Usually, we leave that quality out there in the crowd, projecting our disowned ghosts onto other people and situations. We judge another as lazy or rigid or cold or closed only when we do not want to see those tendencies in ourselves. It is in this way that we create division between a you and a me, an us and a them. On the other hand, if we can feel the judgment and immediately call it back, we can turn it into an opportunity to pass through a small process of expansion and growth.

These three simple words, “just like me,” will transform judgment from separation to self-acceptance. Practice this as often as you can. You can use this practice silently inside yourself, or you can speak it out loud. Either way, you will start to laugh at what previously seemed so serious and begin to celebrate the areas of yourself that had been hidden by your judgments.

You can discover 72 practices like this in Leap Before You Look. Buy it now from our new online store at a discounted price.