Serena again?
still trying....
Friday, July 21, 2006
Serena and Myskina
My Grandma was a tennis player when she was growing up in Southern California. She played all through her youth and early adulthood and when we lived with her in the mid 80's, she paid for lessons for me to play.
I loved it at the time and made the High School tennis team; it was one of three Varsity sports I played my freshman year...tennis, basketball and track. I moved to Cincinnati after my freshman year and for some reason abandonned tennis for cross country (though my real love was soccer).
I joined the swim team that same year as a way to bridge the off season between cross country and track. I had no aspirations for the pool whatsoever, I couldn't even do a flip turn when I joined the team, but, I was fast and I kept getting faster in the pool and at some point my coach suggested I give up running to focus on swimming. It made sense to me, so I went full force into the swimming world, where I stayed for the remainder of high school and my first two years of college.
College swimming is all consuming. Think 30 hours a week of training, plus study tables, full time classes and all of your social activites linked to the team. I loved it at first, but as I watched the rest that college has to offer elude me, I ditched the pool for left wing politics, djing and explorations of my sexuality.
By the time I was a senior, I had my first girlfriend, a job at the record store, new best friends and the freedom to return to tennis. I spent a summer after graduation in Athens and played daily with my girlfriend and my housemate. Our evening routine went like so: two hours of tennis, home cooked food and a night on the couch watching the Real World on MTV or highlights of Wimbledon. I broke my elbow playing tennis that summer.
That was 13 years ago and somewhere along the way, tennis got shoved into a corner again. Last month I visited my ex-girlfriend and hit the courts again. I immediately remembered how much I love the sport. This week I did something I've wanted to do for years. I went to Cincinnati to watch professional tennis. It was awesome, we lucked out and got to see Serena Williams play one of the other top ranked players in the world. I didn't care who was on the court, I just wanted to see them whack the ball in person. Serena hit a serve 127 miles per hour. Whew.......
I didn't mean to write all of this when I sat down, I was just going to post the video, but I think my relationship to tennis is kind of like my relationship to a favorite pair of shoes. I love the memory of the shoes, I can't get rid of them, I like to know they are still sitting there in the back of the closet, sometimes I like to get them out and wear them again, and everytime I do I wonder why I have neglected them for so long and then I remember why I never got rid of them in the first place.
Speaking of shoes, the ones I have on in the picture are first edition Nike velco tennis shoes. That's me, forever on the tip of the latest fashion trends!
I loved it at the time and made the High School tennis team; it was one of three Varsity sports I played my freshman year...tennis, basketball and track. I moved to Cincinnati after my freshman year and for some reason abandonned tennis for cross country (though my real love was soccer).
I joined the swim team that same year as a way to bridge the off season between cross country and track. I had no aspirations for the pool whatsoever, I couldn't even do a flip turn when I joined the team, but, I was fast and I kept getting faster in the pool and at some point my coach suggested I give up running to focus on swimming. It made sense to me, so I went full force into the swimming world, where I stayed for the remainder of high school and my first two years of college.
College swimming is all consuming. Think 30 hours a week of training, plus study tables, full time classes and all of your social activites linked to the team. I loved it at first, but as I watched the rest that college has to offer elude me, I ditched the pool for left wing politics, djing and explorations of my sexuality.
By the time I was a senior, I had my first girlfriend, a job at the record store, new best friends and the freedom to return to tennis. I spent a summer after graduation in Athens and played daily with my girlfriend and my housemate. Our evening routine went like so: two hours of tennis, home cooked food and a night on the couch watching the Real World on MTV or highlights of Wimbledon. I broke my elbow playing tennis that summer.
That was 13 years ago and somewhere along the way, tennis got shoved into a corner again. Last month I visited my ex-girlfriend and hit the courts again. I immediately remembered how much I love the sport. This week I did something I've wanted to do for years. I went to Cincinnati to watch professional tennis. It was awesome, we lucked out and got to see Serena Williams play one of the other top ranked players in the world. I didn't care who was on the court, I just wanted to see them whack the ball in person. Serena hit a serve 127 miles per hour. Whew.......
I didn't mean to write all of this when I sat down, I was just going to post the video, but I think my relationship to tennis is kind of like my relationship to a favorite pair of shoes. I love the memory of the shoes, I can't get rid of them, I like to know they are still sitting there in the back of the closet, sometimes I like to get them out and wear them again, and everytime I do I wonder why I have neglected them for so long and then I remember why I never got rid of them in the first place.
Speaking of shoes, the ones I have on in the picture are first edition Nike velco tennis shoes. That's me, forever on the tip of the latest fashion trends!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Incredible
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To see this woman perform live is absolutely unreal. She has more passion, energy and love for her music and her fans than any performer I have ever seen (Garth Brooks comes a close second).
For three solid hours she had us screaming, laughing, dancing, bawling, you name it. It sounds cliche for my big ole dyke self to be so moved by Melissa Etheridge, but she is superb.
Honestly, what touched me so much about her show was that she shouts all these truths that so many people refuse to acknowledge. She sang about homophobia, 9/11, Matthew Shepard, Breast Cancer, Global Warming, coming out. It made me realize how much heavy shit we, as a society, have been through in the past 10 years.
I wish I could meet her and just say "thanks."
She is one courageous, powerful, inspiring woman.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Ramblin' man.
Sometimes men are gross and they overstep boundaries in the guise of being "friendly."
Elis and I went swimming last week at Sunlite Pool in Cincinnati and encountered one such specimen. He was strolling around the grassy area where people were lounging in the sun and "serenading" bikini clad teenaged girls.
As if his leopard-print draped wanker weren't scary enough, his hideous and repetitive renditions of "Margaritaville" were.
Yikes! Beware of half naked, guitar toting, overaged, ramblin' men.
Elis and I went swimming last week at Sunlite Pool in Cincinnati and encountered one such specimen. He was strolling around the grassy area where people were lounging in the sun and "serenading" bikini clad teenaged girls.
As if his leopard-print draped wanker weren't scary enough, his hideous and repetitive renditions of "Margaritaville" were.
Yikes! Beware of half naked, guitar toting, overaged, ramblin' men.
Monday, July 03, 2006
New pill on the block.
So, in a time of funk, one often discovers the best in friends and family. One such discovery came delivered with a cozy hug and the wry suggestion that I try a new white pill with the best packaging ever.
Who could argue?
P.S. Johnny, you rock.
Who could argue?
P.S. Johnny, you rock.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
FUNK
I have been in a funk lately. It might be about that little white pill. Or, perhaps the absence of said pill.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Meteora
I am so terribly behind with blogging, it is almost shameful.
Greece was amazing, so much so that I will probably hit you all with a barrage of posts over the next few days chronicling our trip.
You won't be sorry though, because I will include historical tidbits and stunning photographs, starting with breathtaking pictures of Meteora.
Meteora is in a mountainous region of inland Greece, about 4 hours from Athens. The area takes its name from the giant cliffs that dot the landscape. The word Meteora translates to 'rocks in the sky'--the root of our word 'meteor.'
The massive rock formations are a result of a large body of water that was present thousands of years ago. After the water dried up, the shape of the rocks morphed to form pockets and grooves over centuries of decomposition.
In the 11th Century, Greek monks were persecuted by Turkish invaders. In order to be able to practice their Orthodox religion, monks built huge monastic outposts on the tops of 21 rock formations in the area. Today, six monasteries are active sites for the practice of Greek Orthodox peity. We visited the St. Stephen Nunnery pictured below.
Nine hundred years ago, the only way to the top of the monasteries was by riding in rope baskets draped over the craggy rocks and pulled the several hundred feet above by your fellow monks. Today, the rope bags are still in use and have been supplemented with rudimentary cable car systems. We saw several monks moving throught the complex in these cable cars.
The monasteries at Meteora are one of the 812 sites listed on the United Nations' compilation of World Heritage sites. These sites are deemed possesions of the global community because of their historical significance.
The pictures barely do them justice. If you ever get to Greece, take the time to see actual 'meteors' with religious and cultural significance.
Greece was amazing, so much so that I will probably hit you all with a barrage of posts over the next few days chronicling our trip.
You won't be sorry though, because I will include historical tidbits and stunning photographs, starting with breathtaking pictures of Meteora.
Meteora is in a mountainous region of inland Greece, about 4 hours from Athens. The area takes its name from the giant cliffs that dot the landscape. The word Meteora translates to 'rocks in the sky'--the root of our word 'meteor.'
The massive rock formations are a result of a large body of water that was present thousands of years ago. After the water dried up, the shape of the rocks morphed to form pockets and grooves over centuries of decomposition.In the 11th Century, Greek monks were persecuted by Turkish invaders. In order to be able to practice their Orthodox religion, monks built huge monastic outposts on the tops of 21 rock formations in the area. Today, six monasteries are active sites for the practice of Greek Orthodox peity. We visited the St. Stephen Nunnery pictured below.
Nine hundred years ago, the only way to the top of the monasteries was by riding in rope baskets draped over the craggy rocks and pulled the several hundred feet above by your fellow monks. Today, the rope bags are still in use and have been supplemented with rudimentary cable car systems. We saw several monks moving throught the complex in these cable cars.
The monasteries at Meteora are one of the 812 sites listed on the United Nations' compilation of World Heritage sites. These sites are deemed possesions of the global community because of their historical significance.
The pictures barely do them justice. If you ever get to Greece, take the time to see actual 'meteors' with religious and cultural significance.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Yamas
Saturday night we went to a traditional Greek dance party in honor of the island of Ikaria.
Ikaria is known for their brief period of independence in 1912 and for their potent red wine.
At our table of 10 people we shared 5 litres of wines. Helen and Vaso hogged three of them!
Liv learned her favorite new word, Yamas, which means cheers in Greek. She's pictured here on her 34th Yamas of the night, just before she deteriorated into the boat.
By this point it was "No more Yamas" for Liv.
Ikaria is known for their brief period of independence in 1912 and for their potent red wine.
At our table of 10 people we shared 5 litres of wines. Helen and Vaso hogged three of them!
Liv learned her favorite new word, Yamas, which means cheers in Greek. She's pictured here on her 34th Yamas of the night, just before she deteriorated into the boat.
By this point it was "No more Yamas" for Liv.
Ouzo
After 22 hours of cars, buses, trams, airplanes and moving sidewalks, we made it to Athens.
Helen and Vaso met us at the airport and we went straight to Varkiza, a beach on the outskirts of town.
Our first taste of the Greek life appropriately included saganaki, horiatiki, tzaziki, and calamari (I passed on the calamari...my fish/sealife phobia thing, ya know) all washed down with Ouzo.
Vacation rocks.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Me
This is what it looks like for a girl from
Southern Ohio, raised in a military family,
to shout "No Blood for Oil."
'Friendly Fire," the ultimate oxymoron.
Text from an November 5, 1991 Washington Post article exposing the circumstances of my cousin’s death during the 1991 Gulf War.
The military reported that he was killed by Iraqis during a conflict near Kuwait. It turned out that the military lied and that he was actually killed by another American tank. This false reporting was rampant during Desert Storm.
I was in college at Ohio University during the first Gulf War. While I supported my cousin as a soldier, I was actively involved in large scale anti-war protests on my campus.
Upon learning of his death I wrote a letter to the school newspaper decrying the war and my cousin’s death. Soon after the article was published I was called into the ROTC office and harassed by military personnel for my “unpatriotic behavior.”
I am curious, just how patriotic is it to lie to the family of a fallen soldier?
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Eagle Scout/Marine
After having my Dad read a few of the letters he wrote from overseas, we talked about the feelings that came up for him as he reflected on his career in the military.
He, his brothers, his nephews and now his daughter have all had long military careers.
His time as an Eagle Scout clearly informed his time in the military. I can't locate any military pictures of him, but the Eagle Scout picture foreshadows his time in uniform.
He is on the left, his brother Howard is on the right.
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Christmas Abroad
My Dad was one of 9 children, 8 of which were boys, 7 of whom served in the U.S. Military during the 1950’s and 1960’s.
While serving in Cairo, Egypt my Dad wrote letters home to his mother who was in Portsmouth, Ohio.
Here he writes about spending Christmas in a Muslim country.
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letters home
My Dad was a Marine during the late 60’s.
He served as an Embassy guard and was stationed
in Cairo, Egypt during that time.
While there he wrote letters home to his mother.
Here he reads from one sent around Thanksgiving 1966.
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Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Yard SIgns
An audio piece I made in the aftermath of the last presidential fiasco.
Even though Bush "won," tons of people in my neighborhood kept their John Kerry signs up in their yards for months after the election.
Liv and I went out one Sunday to find out why. She filmed and I interviewed and in the end the piece seemed to work as an audio piece rather than a video.
Here 'tis.
5 mg
It's finally Spring and I've been looking forward to the sunny weather with great anticipation this year. 18 months ago the counselor that I have seen off and on for 10 years diagnosed me with SAD, the acronym for Seasonal Affective Disorder. Known otherwise as seasonal depression. She recommended I combat the affects of this depression with a daily dose of Lexapro, 10 milligrams of a little white pill that would help moderate the levels of serotonin in my brain. I was not easily convinced to try medication. I have weathered so many family storms without medication and still managed to keep my head above water, I just didn't think I needed a daily pill to get by. I discussed it with my partner and sister and with gentle urging on their parts, decided I owed it to myself to give it a try. It's been 18 months since then. My doctor said it would be best to try two full winters on medication. I've done that now and am ready to taper off. Under her care she has recommended I cut my dosage in half and move off completely after 4-6 weeks. I've had a good year and a half. Liv and I bought a house, I have started school again, I am doing yoga on a regular basis and am training for a triathalon, and most signficantly, I am much less fragile around my oft explosive mother. I don't know what to attribute to the pill and what is simply a function of wise decision making, that's the hard part, especially as I make the decision to go off the medication. No one can say for sure. There aren't tests for serotonin deficiencies in the brain. I sat down to cut my pills in half today and suspect I may soon gain some insight into how much the 10 mg have done for me on a daily basis.
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