Keep right, except to pass.

To my right, I see someone terrified of rain, driving ten miles below the speed limit. To my left, a concrete barrier. Directly in front of me, the self righteous asshole who's been consistently speeding when I'm in the right hand lane and brake checking me when in the left lane. A hundred feet ahead, yet another sign that says "Slower traffic, Keep Right".

Now, I'm not sure if these aforementioned self righteous assholes are actually self righteous assholes. There's a lot of options. They could be opposed to reading, and therefore never understand the signs all over the road indicating that they should probably get into the right hand lane. They could just be deliberate assholes, picking a car at random to piss off. Or they could be the self righteous assholes, deciding that they have the authority and the right to control my behavior.

I enjoy my right to the pursuit of happiness. For me, that means competing with myself to break my times home. But then Self Righteous Assholes (hereafter abbreviated as SFA) decide that they both a) have a right to judge me for the way that I pursue happiness and b) have the right to discontinue my pursuit. I don't quite remember exactly where the right to oppress your fellow drivers is in the constitution is, but whatever.

My goal is simple. I want to get home as fast as possible. If I get a ticket, that's alright. It's my paycheck and my car. SFA are dangerous to me and to others on the road. They encourage unsafe passing procedures, like blowing-your-gosh-dang-doors-off-on-the-right when the originally happy drivers become irritated at the cat and mouse game of SFA containment patterns. SFA's also trigger road rage, and suffer from preoccupation concerning where that (previously happy) car is that often leads them to wander over the lane lines.

Just move over. You have no right or authority to blockade my speed.

what now?

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Success is so strange. There's always one more step that we have to take before we're considered "successful". Having just finished a major accomplishment, many of my friends are discomfited by the question "What now?"
So many of us have spent our lives working up to this graduation, this degree, that the notions beyond the piece of paper are vague. So many are expecting to go into the normal ideology -marketing manager, executive assistant, researcher- that many will forget to do what they enjoy doing.
I have an answer for the "what now?" question, and also for the "and after that?" question, and I feel blessed to know what I'm going to do. I'm going to go out there and make a difference. I'm going into a career where my instinct to over-mother everyone will be an asset. I'm going to bandage up the hurting and save the world, one person at a time. I'm going to travel, to inspire, and to breathe life back into whomever I can. I'm going to be a doctor, a helper, a listener wherever people need me. I'm going to have a black bag, for emergency house calls. I'm going to have a horse, and ride off into the sunset at least once.
We all must define success for ourselves....and not let the world tell us what to do!

I was an immigrant, too.

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me.

-emma lazarus

Unless they're mexican.
or cuban.
or honduran.
or peruvian.
or someone that threatens our sense of entitlement.
Is that what you're saying, America?
That we'll take anyone who's rich and white and healthy?
Because I'm pretty sure that's not what the motto is. I'm pretty sure that having to provide papers of nationality is how Hitler got started with the Jews. What next, they all wear tiny flags showing their home country? We start heading them into "detainment camps" for "relocation"?
They learn English at gun point before being chucked back over the border?

The new york times says this is a point of generational conflict, that the older generation says it's perfectly acceptable to be inhospitable and cruel to our fellow man while the younger generation is outraged by this law. The times had some stats, showing that the year after woodstock had the least immigration, down 10% from normal influx stats. Maybe it's good that I was born well after then.
I might be young, but I grew up in a neighborhood full of mexicans, legal and illegal, and they were all good people. I worked with them in the garden, played with them in the park, ate their delicious food, and learned their language. All of them had a dream- a dream of fair wages, of opportunity, of rescuing family trapped in their home country.
Which is what I thought America was all about.
But in these later years, I've seen that our country is a money-grubbing power whore, selling herself to the same groups over and over again as bankers and oil rigs despoil and rule over everyone else. We're not about to share the opportunity. We're so concerned with our own personal status that we're glad to see people less well off than ourselves. And we're not going to let go of those farming jobs, by God. We may not want them, but if they have them they will raise themselves up and we won't be able to look down on them any more.
We hated the Irish.
We hated the Blacks.
and now we hate the Mexicans. It's our proud legacy.

This is wrong, people. I know you may not agree with my hippie, socialist ways- but surely we can all agree that the maltreatment of our fellow man is despicable. We should be following in Martin Luther King Jr.'s footsteps, not in Hitler's.
So please- write to the Governor of Arizona. Tell her that this is wrong (Peacefully!) and tell her why. Let's get this law revoked. Our generation will not stand for injustice. Our generation will not stand by while they take everyone else away. Let us return to the ideals of our country.

The address-
The Honorable Jan Brewer
Governor of Arizona
1700 West Washington
Phoenix, Arizona 85007

Please, raise your voice.

freewrite.

I read a series called the Dresden Files (which is also a show on the Scifi channel, I know, I know, but I'm talking about the books) and I remember being struck by the concept of soul fire, and of how it was explained.
The way it works is by breaking a piece of your soul, and using it. In the books, and in real life, we get really hung up on that breaking bit. Maybe breaking is too strong of a word.
We share ourselves, and our souls, with everyone who comes into contact with us. It grows back, expands, fills over the nicks of being wrenched through an unequal share or an unrequited share. But still, the pieces are scattered. We share energy, self, with everyone whom we've loved.
There's no such thing as a one true love, or if there is- that couple is sorely limiting themselves. It would be like a mother who had less and less love to share the more children that she had. Love is not a limiting entity. It is meant to be shared, the more given away- the more returned.
We profoundly affect everyone with whom we share ourselves. We give ourselves away, intellectually, physically, emotionally, and hopefully that is returned. If not, our souls grow back. We cannot expect to be loved simply because we love, but even unrequited, we know that we have shared, we have created, we have changed.
Love is not static.
So our souls grow and spill over and are broken, but they keep growing and spilling and breaking and the greatest of this is simply, love. Faith and hope fade away, but love....
love is a choice.
and I- freely knowing that this will break my soul, knowing that I may never get anything in return, knowing even that it will change me and my life- love you.

oh, these lazy summer days.

It's absolutely ironic that we fall out of touch with anyone, ever. Facebook, email, instant message, text message, blue tooth- and yet I still only call my family about once a week. I still communicate with one of my uncles by letter only. How is this possible?
Of course, communication requires two people. I can send as many messages as I like, and if no one responds to them, communication is not happening.

and now, for something completely different:
this summer I have

• Taken a bus
  
• rollerbladed
• skinned my knees
• stared at jellyfish
• watched more than one season of a tv show
• gone on a several mile walk
• eaten at three new restaurants
• tried a new drink
• started packing
• finished my exit interviews from the school
• sent an email to a friend I haven't talked to since christmas break
• started praying nightly

Some other things on my list for summer include

• figuring out my paperwork
• moving twice
• floating down several rivers on a giant inflatable orca
• skinny dipping
• having a super soaker war
• helping in the garden
• going to the beach
• getting burned a glorious brown
• dying my hair back to its natural color- brown
• going to the jazz and blues festival
• going to the National Naturopathic conference
• having an anniversary barbecue
• getting into better shape
• riding a bike
• having fun with friends
  
• staying in touch with far away friends
• making new friends

with that in mind, I should probably call my grandma and then get started. There's never time to waste

choices.

With all of the wedding bells ringing around me, I figured today was a good day to talk about love.
Love is the single hardest thing you're ever going to do in your life. It's not made out of sunshine and cuddles.
Love is turning around and coming back home when the only thing you want to do is run forever.
Love is subjugating yourself to the needs of another person, always above and beyond your own needs
Love is easy to fall into and hard to stick with.
Love is sending messages that you know the other person will never send back, just because you want them to know that you're thinking of them.
Sometimes love is something small. Folding laundry. Fetching a soda pop. Rubbing a shoulder. Being an alarm clock.
Sometimes love is something huge. Surrendering yourself, sacrificing your time and your sweat and your blood and your tears to better the lot of your loved one, dying to save them.

But in all things,
you must remember:
Love is a Choice.

Your fuzzy feelings are going to fade. The sweet summer picnics are going to stop. There will be plenty of evenings where you sleep alone and empty. And even then, you have to choose this love. You have to be willing to love someone even when it's not rewarding, even when all you want to do is strike out at them, even when it hurts you to love them.
So choose wisely.

And once you've chosen, talk to them, all of the time. Keep no secrets, even your shameful ones, because your lover will surprise you with their understanding. Make your choice to love them at the beginning of each day. Find something to adore at the sunset. Because love is a choice, you can push through the darkness and create new moments of sunshine and cuddles, and even in the darkness you can find joy in knowing that you love truly, and not only at the hours that it is easy to love in.
Once you choose to love, you must also be faithful to that choice. You have to make that choice every day, for the rest of your life. That's what it means to be committed.
You can throw away paper plates, and you can microwave your burritos, but you cannot throw away love. You cannot inspire heat over a thirty second period. Your disposable lifestyle must be checked at the door to your love life.
You must choose.

Magic 8-ball.

I downloaded an 8-ball app for my droid yesterday, and when I checked through the settings the application could be set to only deliver custom responses.
I think this is really innovative.
We're all just searching for our own inner wisdom when we shake that ball anyway.

Without further ado, here are 20 answers that I give myself when in doubt.

1. Knock it off
2. You'll be sorry
3. Fear not.
4. Every day is a new beginning
5. you're the judge of that
6. just do it.
7. yes, definitely
8. es no bueno
9. regret is a terrible thing
10. ask felix
11. if not a mortal sin, proceed with cunning.
12. who's going to know?
13. walk it off.
14. don't be ridiculous.
15. don't stop believing.
16. you can't have that
17. you're forgetting something.
18. if cloudy, then no. Consult weather before proceeding.
19. love is a choice.
20. The only thing left to lose is yourself

Pretty sure that covers every question I've ever asked myself.