The Tangled Web-My Journey to the Center of the Internet

My darling friend Jane wrote a web log about her experiences on the internet last week. It is a must read.  You can find it here. 

 

http://jerphila.wordpress.com/

 

Her musings have inspired me to write about my own internet saga.  Let me set the stage for you.  The year was 1999 and I was still very much a baby, at least emotionally. You see, I had always led a cloistered and sheltered life, a relativity happy life. Blessed in many ways. . It’s as if I had stepped right out of an Austen novel However, this was a difficult year for me, the hardest of my life in fact. This was the year I walked straight into a Bronte narrative, Emily’s not Charlotte’s.  I was struggling both emotionally and physically. My situation made me a hot mess of crazy (as oppose to my usual quirky mess of nutty) My emotions were all over the place and the quarter life crisis was in full swing.  Good times, y’all.

 Have I set this up enough? Do you get the picture? Imagine “All About Eve” meets “Brian’s Song”. It was the year of my discontent that I discovered the web and all its mysteries. I was like a kid in a candy store, a very innocent and fragile kid.  The internet opened up a whole new world for me and I met some really interesting characters. One would become a lifelong friend and to this day is like a sister to me. The other came into my life for a season to guide and teach me some valuable lessons about myself and the world at large. Lessons that took awhile to take hold, I’m nothing if not stubborn. This person taught me to be real with myself, to be honest.  They helped me find parts that were lost, they showed me parts I had hidden away, they exposed things I did not wish to look at yet needed to and they encouraged me to believe in myself.  Through their support, I learned to stand on my own two feet and found my voice. I learned I had more courage than I thought and discovered an inner strength I never knew I possessed. I learned to appreciate what I have and to live life to the fullest with no regrets, no excuses and no looking back. They also taught me how to let go of fear, guilt, anger, and the hot mess crazy side of myself. On a trivial note, it was from them that I acquired my love for “The Princess Bride”

 

Both these people were my anchors and life lines. They helped me reconnect with my authentic self and discover new levels and depths to my personality. Of course they had to put up with a lot of drama and angst too.  I will forever be grateful for their support. I will always remember their kindness and how they were a catalyst for major changes in my life. All for the better. 

 

It was also through the internet that I met my friends, Jane, Niles, and Mr. Lovely himself Colin. These relationships have morphed into real life. What a blessing.  I am forever indebted to Jane for always being a sounding board, my soul sister and partner in crime. She makes me laugh and amazes me with her tenacity and spunk. She’s beautiful inside and out and the ying to my yang. Niles is my brother from another mother and my eternal introverted bibliophile buddy. He’s a quiet, gentle soul full of knowledge and kindness. Then there Colin he is my mentor and a myriad of the mystic and profound. It is through him that I have learned so much about humanity.  He inspired me to become an advocate, to do more, expect more and be more. Of course there was also the eccentric and magnetic Dr. Suglia but that’s a blog in and of itself.

 

I suppose with any good, there is always the bad. Sometimes the angels become the demons. I have had my fair share of bad experiences on-line. These have occurred over the last few years. I had a cyber stalker. This person created a fake page and used my name and pictures. They wrote horrible things on it. They also tormented my mother. Nobody messes with my mama. GRR! It was absurd and ridiculous. Thankfully, we had a good friend who was able to help us deal with the situation and put an end to it.

I have also come across a few users who prey on kindness. You know the type of people who have an agenda and seek you out to use and then discard. They suck you into their twisted game of deception all under the guise of friendship. Scamming and scheming is all they know.  These people are masters of deception, wolves in sheep’s clothing.  They appear sweet and unassuming but much like the holly at Christmas they are poison They leave behind only carnage in their wake.   They take hot crazy mess to a whole new and terrifying level.

My Granny always taught me to make sunshine out of rain. In some ways even the negatives are positives because through these experiences I have become more enlightened. I’m not the same gullible, sheltered waif I once was. My eyes are wide open. The girl that longed to see the best in people is still alive in me.  I hope I never lose touch with her, her childlike exuberant sustains me. She’s just older, wiser and more in tune with the ways of the world.

I’ll end my saga by saying the internet is a paradox full of wonder and lackluster. It can be the great equalizer and the great enabler.  I love it tremendously and abhor it whole heartily.  It will never take the place of reading a good book, a walk in the sunshine, a glass of sweet tea, traveling the globe, a warm hug, or spending time with those we love. But, it can be a place to connect, communicate, learn, create advocate and be entertained.

Oh and watch adorable cat videos. Meow!

 

 -The End

Love Lost

Love can be unconditional, pure, lustful, unrequited,, uninhibited, immoral, religious, familial, and lost. These are two poems I wrote about the latter.

Nostalgia enters.
Melancholy takes her cue.
Tantalizing and haunting melodies fill the air.
Sitting transfixed lost in echoes of the past-
Nostalgia is lost in a reminiscent trance.
Clinging to ephemeral dreams
Melancholy’s carnival of variegated colors
Illuminates the stage in her mind
Whilst churning away through the scenery of her mind.
Memories linger…
Revelations of the soul’s misdirection
Unveil a plot left untold.
Remorse…regrets…the awful longing that always comes-
With bittersweet remembrances of
Myths of love promised forever.
The mist-bound dreamer chained to chords of reasons
Recalls an ancient season.
The lights go up the curtain falls
Leaving the audience- to wonder and
Longing for another chance to
Make Love to a one true romance.

_________________________________________

Remember at the station, waiting
on the train, on that sultry summer day?

We stood lost in an embrace, breathing in
each other that way. that awful, terrible,
perfect mad and delicious way that took us
to the shrouded place.

Remember at the station that day, waiting
on the train, as the wind hummed a lovers tune?

She sang of sublime ends, from supple beginnings.
the alluring medley of serenity in a war of rhyme
on the sharp bloody edge of Neverland and Narnia,
the peaceful enchanting interlude of rage & myth.

Remember at the station, that day, as
the train churned closer and we cussed goodbye?

His steam a prelude to our eternal kiss, the sun
soaked, never ending fuel of light, of love, of
heat. Basking and bathing, merged and emerged and submerged, Dancing and swaying in time
with golden chariot and the huntress.

Remember at the station that day, as
the train tugged away, on a endless track?

We gazed as it came — as it came — as it went
through the crossroads. We did not know,
our own separate, distant destinations,. Our own
rail-less wild paths cut into unimagined mountainsides
You to the west, me to the east.

Remember the station that day as
the train, conducted our last kiss?

That gaping wound where our lips met. Where
we learned cruel fate is hot love and all love is
the calamity of un-armored battle. We all go under

wrong or right. Each of us blankets miles and the ground
is nothing but a shifting litter with irascible iridescent hope and hurt-dulled dreams, unfulfilled plans and schemes.

Remember the station that day, waiting
in twilight until we forgot and travelled on, and on

alone, with only prayers of new Twilight to set
in stony slumber with hard solace of old loves loss
then found again.

Happy Halloween…A Treat for You.

 

Happy Halloween! May your pumpkins be carved to perfection, your costumes clever, your night spooky and your treat bags overflowing.  In honor of All Hallows Eve, I decided to track down some of  the scariest videos I could find for your viewing terror.  My gift to you, watch at your own peril.  Every time I view these clips, I die a little, my faith in humanity suffers, and an angel loses its wings…You’re welcome!

 

 OK, I hope these little nuggets of horror, terrified you as much as they did me.  I’m off to hide under the bed. Things are eerily off today.. Paranoia runs amok. I’m convinced my cat is possessed by the devil, that the Kardashian are slowly taking over the world and our house is on top of some ancient burial ground where the spirits are royally ticked.

 

London Calling

The thing is, nothing really can phase or touch you when you are in love…and make no mistake, I am head over heels, crazy, twerking in the street Miley style, Tom Cruise chair jumping, Taylor Swift can’t touch this.. IN LOVE!!

And whom, may you ask is worthy of my undying love and affection?

Why, London of course.

I’ve had the privilege of visiting the land of hope and glory four times now, and I am beyond ready to go back. England is such a beautiful, mystical, country. I feel such an affinity for it, perhaps, because my ancestors hail from there, or maybe, it’s just the people and the lush, green landscapes that beckon me. Whatever it is.I’m hooked.

OK, so why do I love London so much?

Let’s see there’s the sheer volume of things to do, the museums, the markets, the fashion, the music and oh, yesssssss, rich history and beautiful architecture. London is a city of culture. You can fill your days with history, adventure, and art. It’s a city so diverse and so big; there’s never a shortage of things going on. The city is alive with a palpable energy that gets under your skin and lingers in your memories long after you have gone.

And then there’s the tea, the lovely accents, the use of the words, “love” and darling “the tube announcer, minding the gap, walking over the Thames at night, the glorious parks, Indian food, THE CHOCOLATE…

London is a city of artists, of rebels, of hedonists, of intellectuals, of eccentrics, of heroes and a city full of surprises, magic and endless possibilities. At least it is to me.

“Go where we may, rest where we will,
Eternal London haunts us still.”
― Thomas Moore

“You can’t stop the future You can’t rewind the past The only way to learn the secret …is to press play.”

 Change is an organic thing that that happens every minute, everyday, and everywhere. We as people are not meant to stay static.  We may grow up but we should never stop maturing and expanding our hearts and minds.   We shouldn’t be held captive by the past or how people perceive us. We create and radiate our own unique way of being.

In some ways we are always changing but yet staying the same.  When I look back at the me from yesteryear, I still see the same quirky, awkward, random, sentimental girl.  I also see a woman who has a wealth of experience, who has endured illness, heartache and loss, but also experienced wonderful life altering adventures. My journey has taken me out of my comfort zone and into a world of growth and enlightenment. It doesn’t hurt that I have been blessed with the love and unwavering support of family and friends. These people teach me so much every day.

I still process information the same way, but experience has altered the way I interpret that information.  Every day, reveals a new layer of character, the years are teaching me and molding me into a better version of myself.  I embrace getting older and look forward to one day being a, “wise old soul”. Emerson said “As we grow old the beauty steals inward” What a beautiful sentiment.

 A work in process is what I will always be.. I’m still evolving. I hope that never changes, even as I change..  However, I know what I stand for and who I am.  Uncertainty has no place in my inner world.  It’s a gift where decisions become easier, temptations become less, and confidence grows stronger.  

__________________________________________

 

“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same; there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.”
Eric Roth, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button screenplay

“My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.”

“My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.”
Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tide

Coming to terms with my homesickness is a work in progress. Life is a series of transitional phases; I know change is inevitable. I consider myself a restless spirit who likes to roam. I am well traveled,, but my “port of call” has always been  Carolina.

Going back home now is bittersweet.  I take part in the activities and festivities that I took for granted before family dinners,: fireworks in the local park, eating at my favorite restaurant, walks in uptown Charlotte, weekend trips to Charleston and the Smokies., enjoying local treats, hours of gut busting laughter with my  mom, making music with my dad., seeing friends, going to Comedy Zone, or hanging out at South Park Mall, listening to Bob and Sherri. I even miss our annoying pest of a neighbor.

Texas has been isolating in some ways. I feel out of my element, out of synch…out of  step.  Life is bittersweet but I refuse to dwell on the bitter, not when there’s so much sweet to be found. I have my wonderful family by my side and of course, Tucker-Rock Star Cat Extraordinaire. I have dear friends and family, who may be far away but are near in spirit.  Thank goodness, for Facebook and Skpe.  I have my nonprofit work that gives my life worth, a fun podcast,, that I host with my best gal pal, Jane..  Soon, I will have a Masters. I’m looking forward to traveling to San Francisco this year, New England, and of course, back home.  I’m trying to look at the move as a grand adventure. There’s much to see and do here.  Everything really is bigger in Texas, the people are friendly and the food is out of this world..  I also know that this isn’t my permanent home, that more changes are ahead. I welcome them with an open mind.

My wound will always be my geography, this yearning for home, that overtakes me at time, filling  me sadness and nostalgia. However, my healing balm is love and the assurance that the memories of the home of my yesteryear are here to stay.

magnolia-tree

Love Song to the South by Tosha Michelle

 

This a poem is a work in progress.

Magnolias in bloom
Honeysuckles on the vine.
Basking in the lazy rays.
Of sweet sunshine.
Summers down by the lake.
Drinking strawberry wine.

Night falls
Singing the tune of a Carolina moon.
Dancing in time with fireflies.
Living beam,sparking light.
On a sultry evening that feels so right.

She calls to me.

Riding in an old Ford truck.
Papa at the wheel.
Little girl beside him.
His Junebug filled with love.
Granny with her Irish eyes
Sits on her other side.

Off on a grand adventure.
Either down by the sandy coast.
or high up in the Smokies.
Either way, it does not matter.
Sure to see the beautiful things.
Simple and lovely.
Palmettos trees, seagulls flapping, waves crashing.
Tall majestic peaks, vistas of blue and green.
These are the moments to keep.

She calls to me.

Lying on a blanket.
Staring at the clouds.
Daffodils swaying in the breeze
Bumblebees buzz around,.
Braves game on the radio
Cheering with the crowd.

Sunday go to meeting.
Singing In the Sweet Bye and Bye
Granny cut a hickory if you get out of line.
Dinner on the table
Chicken fried.
Collard greens and maters..
Dessert? Well. Maybe later.

She calls to me.

A chill in the air
Leaves falling to the ground
College football, becomes the reason.
Carolina or Clemson
Who will win the season?

Sitting on the porch swing.
Guitar making a country sound.
Feet tapping Hands clapping..
Drinking sweet tea
Life in a southern town.

She calls to me.

Mistletoe and holly
Aunts and uncles surround.
Grandpa is feeling jolly.
Gifts are passed around.
Heads bowed, hands clasped.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.
Pass the turkey and gravy
Peace and love abound.

That soulful spiritual tune.
One of old mixed with the new.
Kinship and friendship.
Love and war;
Heartache and hate.
Renewal and Survival
A bitter sweet revival.
A prayer, a curse,
Sweet rhyme and verse.

She calls to me.

 

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The Looking Glass

I finally think I am at place in my life where I can finally be myself, but what a journey it has been to get to this destination. I still find myself at times falling back into old patterns of never quite feeling good enough, or like I just don’t measure up. However, for the most part, when I look in the mirror, I see a me that I can live with. This me is witty and loves to laugh. This me genuinely wants everyone to be happy and feel cared for. She wants to make her children proud and do her part to make a difference in the world. She wants to be the best person she can be. She wants to explore, soar and take in all life has to offer. She is still striving and still becoming . She can still be a spoiled, selfish, brat She is flawed and scarred,but there is humanity in her imperfections.  I know this woman, I like this woman, I feel comfortable with this woman, but I really have to wonder why she feels compelled to write in third person when talking about herself. : The eternal dork, but embracing all that makes me, Me!Image