Why I love the Internet

There is so much drama, so much strife perceived in every day life. Each day an economic struggle. Every argument an insurmountable disagreement after which nothing will ever be the same. And like a whirlpool, all this flows over my head with overwhelming force, and I struggle and drown and get sucked down into the very heart of the maelstrom.

Winston Churchill spoke of his depression as a large black dog that haunted him, growling and stalking and keeping those he loved at bay. If Mr. Churchill was right, and my maelstrom image fits too, then it might be best to say that for the last week or so, I find myself at the bottom of a roaring ocean, flailing and drowning, with only a large black dog to hold on to... and he bites.

Then a Sunday afternoon comes along which has some spare time and a bright sun peeping past the clouds. The blue sky seems unreal in its electric vivacious coloring, and it glistens behind the Griffith Observatory in a shot any cinematographer would glory to claim for his own. I see all this, but only in passing, temporarily blinded by all the ocean water and dog hair in my eyes. I return to my apartment and do some homework, and access the web, to check accounts, and perhaps peek at a few blogs (a pastime I rarely get to indulge anymore.) And a without realizing it, a life preserver falls neatly draped around my shoulders as I read the words of my tribe.

It doesn't take much to find people who mourn their losses, who sink into despairs. You can find someone bitching in front of you in line at the grocery store.... but until the vast Internet and blogs became a part of my life, I often believed myself alone in trying to persevere. But you... wonderful people you... so many of you speak of hope and joy and invigoration. You have weathered hardships, and have tremendous moments of great doubt, but you keep stepping forward, and I really do love you for it.

It is so easy and so popular to become resigned. Those that try to move past it are often called blind, ignorant, naive. They are mocked by those who secretly covet their indomitable spirit. And that mockery, if well-timed, can suck the wind out of renewed sails and drown barely afloat hopes. (good lord my metaphors are all over the place today... and I'm rambling.) My point is that I have a hard time keeping going. I get lost. I get overwhelmed. Sometimes I tell myself to go on. Sometimes I hope for more, then feel foolish for doing so. But the Internet has shown me that I'm not alone in these courageous charges of perseverance. If anything, I have seen that not only are there many out there who trudge ever forward... but MANY who seem to do it better than I. Who have ideas I haven't tried and wells of energy I haven't tapped into. They comfort me and inspire me and after 30 minutes or so of reading, I find myself possessed by the need to be outside, smelling the air, fascinated by blue sky and overjoyed at the feel of the breeze. I see the beauty in dandelions that grow between cracks in the sidewalk, and I'm blown away by the sound of bird wings as a flock of pigeons take flight.

Thank you Internet. Thank you heart-filled bloggers who express hopes and fears so honestly. Thank you, my dear tribe, for hopeful words, beautiful pictures and communities full of courageous passions. You open me to inspiration.

A Moment of Calm

Is it the cold? The damp? The holiday? Or just the odd free moment in my hectic zoo schedule? I don't know for sure, but I'm feeling sublime and nostalgic.

As I walk across this campus, hood up in a weak fabric attempt to keep myself dry against the light Autumn rain, I can't help but think back to my early college days. As I was pass the Music building, I remember a 17 year old me, listening at practice room doors for my roomie, playing her clarinet scales and cursing loudly at mistakes. I remember nestling into the covers of my tiny twin bed, with a warm cup of cocoa, overflowing with mini marshmallows, listening to the Florida rainfall compete with loud hissing and clunks coming from an antique radiator. I remember the wet stillness that falls across Murphry Green when all the students are hidden away in rooms, or gathering in hallways.

I remember feeling so young, still stunned to already be in college... and yet feeling so old, mature and jaded to be out of high school. Laughably, that same conflicted arrogance is what can vex me so in my younger classmates. There are moments where I cannot tolerate it, and others where I jealously remember being so blissfully self-involved.

Course... here I am, blathering on about my life and my memories in my blog... as if anyone in the world could really possibly care. LOL. Self-involved is apparently a stage I haven't quite grown out of, if anyone really can.

In the library today, there is a warm silence that smells lightly of moist mulch and growing things. The rainy season in Southern California is also the time of growth, and I enjoy watching plants bud, or grass turning vibrantly green. The media/learning lab area is alive with keyboard clicks and IM pings. Laughter behind me as young women mock Myspace fotos and post with friends. Whereas only moments ago, I felt as if I were back at FSU, these new noises now make me feel as if MUCH has changed since I was in college. It was another decade... hell, another century. Wow... I'm crazy old.

I came to the library to work on my final project for Wildlife Education, while staying dry and warm. B.E. Projects were turned in today, and Diversity finals start next week (well, the first of 3 will be on Tuesday.) However, despite those pending assignments and anxieties, I sit fairly calm and composed, reflecting on college and the rain. It is a good day.

When I do find these moments to post, I have half an urge to ramble on about school: its woes, its dramas, and of course, the animals. Big rubber dairy boots and a shovel full of poop seems to all fade into the background with a 300+lb lioness watching you work. Her amber eyes entrance me and all manual labor seems easier when she's nearby. The coyote seems to trust me more than most others, and although I cannot work with her yet, I think about her often. This week, my assigned area of cleaning is Parrot Gardens. I'm admittedly not much of a bird person, but when a kookaburra breaks out into that long exotic call, even jaded ancient me can be impressed.
In short, school is school.... with all the good and bad that every college experience brings with it. But on rainy days full of memories, it is pleasant and playful and lovely to enjoy.

Wishing you all a great grey Wednesday, and may your Thanksgiving, however you experience it, be full of good friends and good food.

Standing in a New Place, looking Forward

I've never been one to participate in politics. I'm not the girl you find in line at most polling places. I have little faith in our legislative and judicial systems, as they are currently practiced. My experience of politics has been 101 promises, 99 of which are broken (and one is reworded to exploit a built-in loophole). Why would I need to vote when I could get that sort of abuse from any number of previous relationships? Deeply ingrained in Generation-X cynicism, I embraced apathy... for it was easier than expressing and channeling the fury that our world's current state aroused within me.

And so, when the pre-presidential flurry began to spin, I tried to ignore it. ALthough I live with a man who has been working to support Obama since it was a grassroots campaign in Chicago, I tried to ignore it. I fought being won because in the end, it all comes down to one vivid and sometimes toxic emotion... hope.

Hope comes with strings attached. Strings of expectation. Expectations leave gaps and opportunities for disappointment, when they remain unmet. And so many times, they do.

Yet somehow, in all the chanting for change, a tiny seed of hope crept in. Small as it was, I did my best to avoid it, and not let it run any major decisions. I did however, find myself willing to vote, for the first time in a long time. Not only for the presidency, but for many state propositions that are important to me. I cast my ballot by mail, as I wasn't in the county during any open polling hours. And once the envelope was sealed, I didn't give it much thought. In fact, inundated with animals and education, I actually forgot several times that today was election day.

But as I killed time between evening classes, dining with a friend and seeing the first peek at the numbers, I felt an overwhelming stirring in my gut. I recognized it at once. The aching butterflies in my tummy were the twinges of hope, gnawed at by the fear of unmet expectations. Momentarily paralized, I did my best to push the news report and the quivering tingles aside, and focus on class.

Time passes, events roll forward whether you pay attention or not, and by the time I was in my car for the long ride home, McCain's concession speech was being aired. Driving east on the 118, tears rolled down my face. Me... my face... the face of a woman who until now has never much cared for election results, who avoids political discussions, and despises the bickering two-party system. Face to face with the fact that I was emotionally invested, I turned off my radio and came to terms with my unexpected reaction.

Can we? Really? Can we Change? Human beings are creatures of habit and radical turns of events have never been well embraced by society as a whole. The best of intentions can still be stymied by fillabustering and stalling. Worse yet, promises may not be kept.... best intentions might not be brought to the table. What then?

Hope. It terrifies me. But I cannot help but fill tonight with it. To let it float like smoke in the air, resonate like the final chord of a piano concerto. It hovers tangibly, waiting for expectations to be not only met, but embraced and bettered.

Yes We Can..... I certainly hope so.

For a Good Cause

Hey folks! Clearly, if you've been reading my blog for any amount of time, you know that a central theme here is the rescue and preservation of all sorts of animals. Likewise, many of those folks who share my world are also concerned for our furry friends. That is why I would like you to go here. The blog belongs to SlackMistress, but on it, she will give you all the instructions you need in order to (1) Visit the fabulous Animal Rescue Site (2) Vote for the Bill Foundation to receive grant money for their work with dog rescue.

It is a simple task that takes only a few moments and can do a world of good. So please, make with the clicky-clicky and help save a dog. :)

Many many thanks!

Mourning

Paul Newman

1925 - 2008

Rest in Peace, great spirit. You were as inspirational as you were beautiful.

As talented as you were endearing. Thank you for sharing with us

all the honest, integrity and laughter. We will not forget you.

The First Update & the Urge to be More

Overwhelmingly overdue, this post really can't begin to capture the last 40 days. A ragged and runaway roller coaster, with all the highs and lows of a soap opera episode. I really can't think straight enough to put together a long cogent post, but I'll try to hit the highlights.

Of my 53 classmates, 52 of them are 10 years or more younger than me. That stings a bit. I mean, with all the demons I've been fighting the last few years, about being past my prime- too old, too fat, too.... well, being surrounded by skinny 20 somethings has definitely punched a few buttons. Then again, many of the conversations I've been privy to have proved to me that one really does learn and grow an AWFUL LOT between 24 - 36. There's just not enough money for me to go back to that time, and my years of experience have allowed me some leeway in staying above the flow of the drama.

Speaking of drama, it really is the worst part of the program. Sure, the hours are insanely long. Many days a week, I wake at 5am, to leave my house by 5:30. On Monday of this week, my alarm didn't go off, meaning that I was late... and thus docked points for the tardy. Still, that personal emergency, as emotionally taxing as it was, is nothing when compared to loves and betrayals and roommate tragedies that I have been made aware of. I remain confident in my decision to live away from other students, despite the long and tiring commute.

Some classes require public speaking and a taste for the theatrical. These are, of course, the easiest for me. Other classes require only that you attend, that you work hard while there, and that you are not ever even one minute late. Short of the "alarm clock incident", I have done well in those. Still other classes are heavy on science and memorization. They require studying and in some cases, comprehension (not just rhetoric). These are a little more difficult, although I've found some study buddies that are most helpful.

Until this week, I would have said that the class as a whole had not gelled. However, several times in the last few days, I have been doubled over with laughter as compatriots and I, delirious from fatigue, found humor and connection in our shared duties and hardships. As one new friend said recently, the early rising, the long hours, the filthy tasks, the stressful tests... they are stepping stones, not hurdles, for "we are exactly where we are meant to be."

As I sit here tonight, on a rare night without studying, and watch the movie "V for Vendetta", I reflect on its message, and remember how it moved me the night I first saw it in the theatre.

Frequently in Conservation class, as we watch another depressing video, I feel overwhelmed with sadness and despair that we as a people are doing so much damage to resources, to the creatures we share this planet with, to ourselves. It feels hopeless, most of the time. But the other night, there was a small stirring in my soul. I don't know why it was there, or how long it has been in there, residing quietly. But it was a part of me that believed in passion and purpose, integrity and making a difference, however small. It is the same part of me that cries a little each time I watch this movie. It is a part of me that urges me to be more, and that whispers to me, that whatever I may think, or even fear, the Universe has her grand design, and I am in fact "exactly where [I] am meant to be."

And So it Begins...

9:41pm and this is my second take at this blog post. Damn you Blogger!

I'm sitting here at the computer, with the Olympics playing in the background. Don't know if I've mentioned it before, but Tag was an Olympic hopeful (Gold Medalist in AAU Nationals.) As such, he has several friends on the American Tae Kwon Do team, and he fervantly cheers on other American competitors. Through his passion, I have been able to view the Olympics as I never have before, through new eyes, filled with hope and pride. It has been a moving experience. However, as thrilling as it may prove to be, it does not keep me from near jumping out of my skin because tomorrow.... school begins.

The road here has seemed so endless. As a young girl, I wanted to be a dolphin & whale trainer. However, the fact that it seemed to require a lot of marine biology scared me away. So I turned to less cerebral, more instinctive pursuits... namely Theatre. And don't get me wrong, Theatre is still one of my greatest loves. There is no feeling like being on stage. But she has proven an unfaithful mistress, sometimes embracing me tightly to her bosom, other times kicking me in the teeth. And I was just not made for the "Business" of Show Business, particularly not here in Los Angeles, where no one is allowed to age or eat. Too many nights, I have sat by the proverbial phone, waiting for the promised call, only to go to bed late, teary-eyed and alone.

Whenever Theatre (or the rest of my uneven love life) left me broken and alone, animals have always been a source of joy and comfort. Nikki, my dear soulmate, has saved my life more times than I count. Beaker is a great spirit clown who has taught me to laugh at the simplest things. And when all else failed, I have often treated myself to a soul-inspiring trip to the Zoo.

Therefore,it is no surprise that when in 2004 my best friend said "Make a list of the things that make you truly happy, and then create a job from that," "working with animals" topped the list (followed closely by "working outside.") However, simply making those discoveries does not place all the yellow bricks in the road. My research took me high and low, searching for the best training programs for zoo keeping, or in-field observation and rehabilitation. Eventually, through one recommendation and the next, I came across the EATM program. Now all I had to do was apply, play my odds with the lottery admissions, find the finances to pay for 2 years of life with school but no job, AND complete the intensive 22 month program. I applied in late 2004 for the 2005 admissions, only to find myself 15th on the waiting list, short on cash and mired in a lousy job.

Flash ahead 3 years. Years filled with further research, paying off debts, & finding a boyfriend who not only encouraged my passion but promised to help me with living expenses. Lady Luck granted me grace with the admissions process, and friends have been nothing but enthusiastically encouraging, reassuring me that they are proud of me, they are excited for me, and they respect the fact that I am following a too long surpressed dream. From the little girl who dreamed of training whales, to the 36 year old woman, nervously giving voice to her "back to school" jitters... I can hardly believe my journey, my luck, my future.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, and keep your internets tuned to this bat channel. I'll do my best to blog all the ups and downs, so that you too can take this facinating roller coaster ride with me. They tell me dreams come true. They tell me to believe. I've been waiting a long time for those promises to be made manifest. Tomorrow, I walk trhough a door untried.... and find out what wonders are on the other side.