If

I have a degree in English, but I have never been a big fan of poetry. Perhaps it's because in college I was forced to decipher so much complicated literature, that I am rebelling. Maybe that's why I loved reading the Twilight series so much - it was so easy and fun. I do appreciate classic literature, and I do enjoy making my own interpretations of another's work. But every once in a while, you just want to read something that says what it is. For now, I would like to share my favorite poem, "If" by Rudyard Kipling. It appeals to me not only because I admire strength, courage, and integrity, but also because, even though I find it to be brilliant, I don't have to buy the Cliff Notes to understand it.

'If', by Rudyard Kipling:

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breath a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on';

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!"

Alexander Supertramp

I watched the movie, "Into The Wild" again yesterday. If you haven't seen it, it's about a college graduate who takes off to live in the wilderness of Alaska. Prior to leaving, he donates his life savings to charity, abandons his vehicle, and ends up lighting a match to what little money he did bring with him. He also cut up his social security card and identification. He renamed himself Alexander Supertramp.

Although my current goal is to save money, get a car, and a new place for my daughter and me, I can certainly see the appeal of Alex's way of life. I spend so much time trying to do the right thing, and I have realized the right things have been defined by others, not myself. I envy Alex's need for anonymity and lack of rules. When you break down life that way, the little things are what make you happy - a beautiful sunset, food in your belly, and the occasional company of a good friend. Alex didn't need other people to make him happy. During his adventure he encountered some good people in the oddest of places, but he didn't need them; they were simply a component of a moment that made him happy. He could just walk away from it all. I don't consider that behavior sociopathic in this sense, you know - someone who has no feelings for others. Rather, I consider him to be truly self-actualized. He is at peace within himself, which is something I long to be.

If I had the means, I would just take off with my child. I would head to New England, then maybe Canada, and eventually Europe. Alex didn't have the means, but he survived. He ate plants (the wrong ones, at times) and hitchhiked. I would love to have an RV and just get the hell out of Dodge. I would educate my child by taking her to all the places we read about in books. Disappearing without a trace is so attractive to me. All the people who have judged me, lied to me, let me down and told me what I am supposed to do could just always wonder....whatever happened to her?

AWOL

Well, I'm in a cast and my computer is down for a few days. My daughter is allowing me to use her laptop for brief periods, not long enough to create a masterpiece. I'll be back.

The Southern Curse

Several years ago when a friend returned from a business trip to Chicago, he told me the average cab driver sounded more intelligent than the average North Carolinian. I found this to be very funny and, sadly, very true.

Speaking for myself, someone who has spent most of her life in Greensboro, North Carolina, but who has also lived in Virginia, Alabama, and Maryland, it pleases me to say I do not have much of a Southern accent. At least, that is what people here tell me. I often get asked, "where are you from?" or "are you from up north?" However, times I have visited New York City, men go ga-ga over my 'southern accent' and every time I say something in a crowded area, people gather around and ask, "where are you from," just as they do here ('here' being North Carolina). For the record, my southern friend doesn't have a southern accent, either. (Well, unless it's like mine, and only magically appears when traveling).

I have a Bachelor's Degree in English, but before college, I had the same accent I do now. I do speak grammatically correct, so maybe that helps. I guess what I am saying here is, I feel people can control the way they speak. Southerners are regarded as having inferior intelligence, and it's all because they speak like they just walked off the plantation! And I'm sure our politicians look like total idiots when they stand up to represent us. I will never forget poor Virgil Goode from Virginia, former Republican member of the U.S. House of Representatives. I used to crack up laughing when his campaign commercials would air - he sounded like Barney Fife on helium. This is an intelligent, educated, man, and he sounds like a complete ninny.

I have come to realize that there are categories of southern accents. For instance, if an educated woman has a slight southern drawl, she is a Southern Belle and can still come across as someone with a lick of sense. This can also be said for a man, the Southern Gentleman ,but in my opinion, a woman can get away with it more. This is also assuming there are no grammatical mistakes, because we all know the Southerner is famous for such genius as "ain't got no," "it don't mean nothin', and...oh, I can't bear to say anymore. I will admit I do say, "y'all," but I think people say that everywhere, don't they? Anyway, the poor grammar speakers with the heavy southern accents, those are your hicks, or your rednecks, however you'd like to classify them. I would say they would be the most difficult people to reform, because they have grown up with parents and grandparents who speak in the same fashion, and it's just embedded into their little redneck brains and it's impossible to get out.

Is it hopeless? Perhaps not. Like healthcare, it's all about preventive maintenance.

I propose that the public school system get involved ( just the southern states, of course). The process should begin as early as kindergarten. The first lesson will be to never use the words 'ain't' or 'irregardless,' and that the only 'axe' is the one used to chop wood. There should be intense pronunciation exercises. ("Students, there is no 'aw' in dog.") If this type of training continues through high school, we just might be able to eliminate the southern accent by the year 2050!

And Southerners won't be laughing stocks any longer.

Good idea, don't you think?

Lindsay and Her Laptop

Lindsay, my mini-me, now has her very own laptop. This means I have my computer back. This means I can write and create art and get into all kinds of madness and mischief. Stay tuned for the madness that is me.

Wanderlust

Lately more than anything I want Lindsay and me to just hit the road. I want to take us somewhere we have never been, possibly even out of the country. Or New England might be nice. I want to start anew, make new friends, get Lindsay in a good school, go somewhere where no one knows me, but they want to.

I feel like I am not connected to anyone here. I am so sick of this house and this day-to- day nothingness. I need to make changes and I need to make them now. I want Lindsay to be happy. I want ME to be happy. Maybe I will buy an RV and we'll just travel. Forever.