...And, we're back!

Hello, dear friends. I wanted to check to see if anyone still had this on Bloglines before I bothered to type up the novel that is my life for the last few months. When my life falls to pieces, I have a tendency to drop out of sight. I’m convinced that no one wants to hear about my trials and tribulations on a daily basis and, to be honest, I don’t know that I much feel like talking about them that often. For the last year, it feels like my life is a soap opera and I really got tired of blogging about that. With the death of my father-in-law followed by the deaths of Ritchie and Dale followed by my life becoming slowly depressing, I just started feeling like it was becoming a serious drag to read my blog.

Many of you know that I’m in the middle of a divorce. I don’t feel like going into the details at this time but please know that I’m OK and I have been fine since I put M on a plane back in early November. Did I mention that I’d started knitting him a sweater about a year ago? Yeah. Never finished it. But I have a plan for the yarn…

I decided to take Sachi’s Purls offline for at least a while. I still have the inventory (no, I have not knit it all up…) and I even did a local craft fair with my SIL over the summer. But the new tax laws make things difficult for online retail and I simply did not have the energy or desire to do the research at the time. The site was broken anyhow because my service provider decided to upgrade and then was of absolutely no help in fixing it so I just took the site down. I’ll do so re-evaluating and soul searching in the coming year to decide whether I want to keep an honest-to-golly business going or if I just want to run the Etsy and craft fair circuit.

All the animals are doing well. I’m sure y’all have heard about the amount of snow we’ve gotten in the Pacific Northwest. I worked 10-12 hour shifts for 2 weeks straight and I’m back in again tonight as we’re under 8-6” of snow at the moment, depending on where in the county you live.

Anyway, I’m good. I’m alive, still knitting, still spinning. I could use a drink and a date but other than that, I’m doing fairly well.

Hello?

Ahem.... does anyone out there still read this blog? :-/

Hello.

Hi. Remember me? I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I certainly haven’t forgotten about you and I’m sorry if I made it feel that way. My unread posts on Bloglines reads 1,415. No, I never clicked “Mark All Read” because I still can catch up on y’all. That's the game plan, anyhow.

Thank you, everyone, for all your kind comments on the death of our two friends. I am torn as to whether or not I want to post those things when the happen because, in retrospect, it can feel like a pity party. But when Ritchie passed, it felt like a small way in which I could honor him and Dale.

Where have I been? In practice… Practice almost nightly with my Partner In Crime (PIC) for about 3 solid months. (This is probably the longest post I will ever write… just a little forewarning there for you.)

The last few months have been trying here at Chez Segal. Unfortunately, it’s nothing that I can put up for the internets to examine. Fortunately, there have been good times as well, mostly with my PIC. The good times, I can put up for public consumption.

A few months back, the family went to an Eisa performance. There were many people in attendance that I knew growing up. Many new faces as well. The thing is that I rebelled against my heritage for my entire childhood. Perhaps because it was forced upon me. Partially it was because there were a good many things about the Japanese culture that I found unpalatable and sometimes, an assault on humanity. When Mom would have 20 of her closest friends over for a party, we used to call them “Hen-peck Parties” because they would all peck us to death slowly, telling us how we needed to improve our lives and be better people, do a better job at whatever.

Sometimes the husbands of these women would come but there were usually only 2 or 3 and often they had nothing in common with my poor father aside from the lineage of their wives and the fact that they were all US Navy at one point. By about 9:00 PM, the conversation between the men would be over and they would try desperately to find something on the TV even though we didn’t even have basic cable. By 10:00 PM, the entirety of the living room furniture would be filled with snoring men.

It was an amazing freedom when my brother got his driver’s license and we were no longer forced to spend time at the house while the parties were going on. I recall one instance when Mom was having the entire gang over for Karaoke. (It did, of course, originate in Japan…) Knowing that no one EVER shows up on time, my brother and I were able to wait until the last minute to leave. When the doorbell rang for the first time that evening, he and I were out the door like a shot. As we were climbing into his car, my father came running from the front door, shaking his fist at us, “Don’t you leave me here with them, dammit!!”

Some of Mom’s friends were terribly unpleasant. We already had one mom and we didn’t much like the prospect of people who didn’t know us trying to mother us. Some of her friends were a blast to be around, especially with a little bit of sake intervention. Mostly, they were just noisy.

Anyway, when I was very young, Mom volunteered me to do some traditional dances with some of the other half-breeds around town. It was mostly fun but the other girls didn’t socialize well with me. I was a year behind them in school so I was, to them, a serious dork. To top things off, I didn’t look anything like them. They both were very obviously Japanese where as I didn’t look like I fit in any pigeon hole. I did, however, look slightly like an Alaskan native but not 100% and that was mainly because Mom usually put my super-long hair in two braids for much of my childhood.

So, yeah. Didn’t fit in. Didn’t like it. The trouble was that I never fit in ANYWHERE. I didn’t look like anyone else that I knew and I certainly didn’t act like anyone else. I know now that my brain simply worked differently and that’s why I felt so out of place all the time but, back then, I was searching for someone to belong to outside my family.

Due to those experiences, I avoided the culture. I moved to Los Angeles and found myself needing something. I spent time in sections of town populated mostly by the Japanese, shopping in their markets and eating at their restaurants. I spent time in what they call “Little Tokyo” buying the things I needed to make the dishes I knew from Mom. Did people push me out of their stores or say bad things about me in Japanese when they thought I couldn’t hear? No. But I still felt not-quite-right about the whole situation. I didn’t look like them and I didn’t think like them. Something was still missing.

Fast-forward many years and I’m home, with my family. I’m an adult now and I’ve learned the value of independence and individualism. While hanging out with Mom and some of her friends, we hit upon a topic that reminded me to think differently than I had before. We often discuss the differences between Japanese and Okinawan food. The differences between the cultures and genetics are pretty amazing. My mind started mulling over the subject, but just in the back of my mind; like a thought not yet fully formed.

The entire family bought tickets to a taiko performance that was featuring Eisa, a style found only on Okinawa. When we arrived at the venue, I felt overwhelmed with a feeling of deep understanding and belonging. THESE were my people. This is where I belonged. I didn’t understand it immediately but I realized, as the evening went on and Okinawan after Okinawan was on stage doing one form of dance or another, I belonged here because I am Okinawan. These people looked like me, moved like me, were moved like me. They were as different from the Main-land Japanese as I was, even if I happened to look a little whiter.

I spent so many years reveling in not belonging to a group, probably because I never found a group to which I could belong. I didn’t know how to deal with it at first. Eventually, I embraced it. I joined the local Eisa group and, upon attending my first practice, I was hooked. It’s not the Eisa that hooked me, although it certainly is cool; it’s the people. There is no one there my age but it doesn’t matter. When I am there, I am a cog that fits into place. I was a happy person without that but it really is a wonderful feeling.

I think I’ve finally found the missing piece in my identity. It’s not with this group per se, but it includes being a part of this group. I’ve never liked the idea of defining myself by my ethnicity mostly because many who do seem to love to exclude all else. I think I’ve finally excepted that my ethnicity can be a part of me without defining me.

So, my PIC and I have been busting our asses for about 3 months. I am not athletic and she is not exactly gifted in the world of rhythm so we had to work twice as hard as most. I had to work hard on my jazz hands (I’m kidding… but it’s something similar) because, when you’re on stage, you have to be over the top with your movements. We’ve put my family under some serious stress as we practice in my parents’ living space. Mom practiced with us sometimes but mostly she supervised. My poor, neglected M. had to mostly be alone with his thoughts when Ritchie and Dale passed away because I couldn’t let myself slow down with shows so close on the horizon. My animals are slowly forgiving me and have stopped acting out their frustrations on the rug. (I don’t even want to think about it…)

We had our big Sakura Matsuri (Cherry Blossom Festival) in Seattle this weekend. It was good times but mostly freaking out on my part. Actually, I think I was OK even though I may or may not have been on the edge of hyperventilating for much of the performance. Seriously. Most of the pictures show me with my mouth hanging open, trying to breath. There were some parts where my mouth is hanging open because I do the Kakegoe, like a "Hi-ya" in Karate but this is with music. I have a big voice so I do it with the guys and a couple of the ladies.

(Anyway, we have another show on May 10th. We probably won’t need to practice daily anymore until it comes time to learn another routine so I hope to get my butt back into the blogging swing. I've been knitting and spinning but not a bunch of product to show for it.)

And here comes the parade of pictures. Most of these are of poor quality and I think that I look retarded but I am so proud of the performance that I really don’t think I care. We were letter perfect, PIC and I. I have accepted that I will probably never do that well again but maybe next time I’ll smile while on stage. ;-) 'Cause seriously, I look angry or at least distressed in all the pics.

Me, before the freaking out.


Me and my PIC


I'm on the big drum in the back, left.










"Hi-ya-sa-sa!"


Kindly ignore my tacky, purple Converse logo-adorned shoes. It's a long story that involves a lot of poor weather and stage-shifting.


Me and my home-girls.














Mommy


Mom's on the left.


You can catch the whole slide-show here, horribly fuzzy pics and all.

Rest In Peace

Mark and I have lost two friends this week, both to cancer.

Good bye, Ritchie and Dale. I am a better person for having known you both.

Spirituality

Thank you all for your input on my voting plight. Because I work for the local government and I value my job, I’ve decided not to pursue the matter further. I guess the main issue is that I support my local government whole-heartedly, flaws and all. I believe the people I work for are genuinely trying to do what they believe is right and, although they are human and make plenty of mistakes, I see enough good that I place my faith in their abilities.

I’ve spent the weekend dying up some superwash for more sock yarn spinning and I was pleased to be able to spend some quality time with my iPod. Along with the many knitting podcasts I listen to, I also listen to Beyond Reality Radio, a podcast about the paranormal. I thought this might make a lovely bloggy topic.

I am an atheist. My definition of atheism is that I do not believe in a god. I do not believe that there is an intelligent design to the universe. That being said, I believe that the universe is orderly because chaos cannot exist. By its very nature, chaos would fall apart. I have not studied quantum physics but, from what I understand, I should. It sounds like it would completely blow my mind and probably shake up my entire belief system but, for now, take this for what it’s worth.

Do I believe in the paranormal? I don’t know. I’ve been fascinated by it for as long as I can remember. I wrote a paper about it in high school. The word “paranormal” means simply “above the normal”. Taking that at face value, it’s not something that one can “believe” in. It’s just something that is considered abnormal. The common use of the word refers to ghost and references to the afterlife. In general, things that, as of yet, cannot be explained.

In the last year or so, I’ve found myself drawn to a show on the SciFi channel called “Ghost Hunters”. I know that this is a pretty popular show but I don’t know anyone besides my MIL and M that watch the show. M watches because I hijack the remote on Wednesday nights and force him to either watch or leave the room. I adore the show and all its players. The investigations are done with the hopes of debunking all claims from the outset. The claims that cannot be debunked are simply left as personal experiences and are never presented as proof. It is rare to hear these guys call a place haunted. They just sort of present any sounds recorded or images captured to the property owner and say that, based on the evidence, there is “paranormal” activity, not necessarily implying a haunt but rather that they have not been able to debunk the activity.

I find these people to be very genuine and scientific in method. They are tangible personalities and they are not asking their clients to pay them money which usually adds that much more credibility to what they do. I’ve seen video footage on their show which, if I take them at their word and the films have not been doctored, I cannot explain. It blows me away.

Given my belief system, I am convinced that, if there really was a guaranteed afterlife for all of us, my first husband would have come to tell me. His ties to this earth were so strong that he would not have “gone into the light”. He was a prime candidate for being a trapped spirit. Since I have yet to see him, hear him or feel him since his passing (I’m still watching) I tend to believe that there is no guarantee of the afterlife.

The most common question here would be, “But what if he can’t come back? What if he’s not allowed?” Well, based on what the majority of paranormal researches say, we all have free will and that includes the will to be in denial about our death or to make the choice to stay behind. I believe that our bond of love was more than enough to have made him stay behind for my sake. To make sure that I was OK and to warn me that my belief system was incorrect and that I needed to change the way I believed.

Why do I keep watching these shows if I don’t believe? Because I want to believe. I want to believe that he is still watching over me and that he is still in my life. I am, however, convinced that he is not. To those who say, “What about…” or “What if…” suggesting that something prevents me from seeing or prevents him from doing, I can only say that they did not know him. Nothing would stand in his way, especially in this regard.

I have made a point in recent years of reminding people that being atheist does not mean that you cannot have a spiritual aspect to your being. Having spirituality does not mean that there is anything mystical going on inside. It’s just that you have a soul that you feed, whether it’s through spinning or doing yoga or meditating. As I’m typing this, I’m starting to realize that this is such a huge topic that I can’t cover it in one blog post. So I’m setting a goal for myself. Over the next month, I will tell you about my spiritual pursuits, my mental awakening since returning home and about how that awakening started with the death of my first husband. There. I’ve typed it. Therefore it must be true. ;-)

Sorry about the somewhat rambling nature of this post. So how about you guys? Where do you sit in your beliefs? Do you believe in a god? Why? Has anything ever happened to you that have shaped your beliefs? Inquiring minds want to know!

Why I Didn't Vote

Here, in this fine state, I am not registered with a party. This is primarily because I don't fully agree with any party and I feel that it would be disingenuous for me to register with one unless I could support it whole-heartedly. Due to my non-affiliation, I am not permitted to vote.

I could think that Clinton is the best thing since the dark ages or that Obama will solve all my problems but I can't voice my opinion on a ballot. I could think that McCain is the way of the future because of his past but no one would know I feel that way because I cannot support him on paper; because I am not permitted to support him on paper.

I recognize that this is the case in many states but this is far more sinister. This goes further. Rumor has it (I don't know first hand yet. I have not been through a major election in this state since moving back.) that I cannot vote for any individual for office. I must vote party. Therefore, if I think that a particular person would be a great mayor, whatever that individual's political affiliation is what I will have to vote for every other elected office during that election. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this one because I can't believe that any system could possibly be so stupid. But I keep hearing it and I'm truly worried about what will happen to my "voice".

On a different topic but in the same vein... In my state, if you are among the elite and are registered with a party, you better hope that it is Republican. Why? Republicans get to vote twice. Seriously. Two opportunities to have their voices heard. Democrats, I'm sorry for you. If you sent in a ballot, it won't be counted. The Dems have decided that the polls will simply be a popularity race or, more accurately, an exercise in exit polling. The Dems have decided that they will only count votes through the caucus.

Republicans? They intend to count all the votes. So, if you sent in a ballot, you get to vote again by simply attending the caucus.

How is it that the Democrats cry so loudly when people are disenfranchised but they have decided to alienate their own people by shutting their ears to the ballots? WTF is happening to people???

It wasn't easy...

I named them all but I feel inadequate next to Laurie Ann's score.

In 3m 51s

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