Dreamer Girl

The feeling of inferiority rules the mental life and can be clearly recognized as the sense of incompleteness and unfulfillment, and in the uninterrupted struggle both of individuals and of humanity.

~Alfred Adler


Our unconsciousness is like a vast subterranean factory with intricate machinery that is never idle, where work goes on day and night from the time we are born until the moment of our death.

~Milton R. Sapirstein


The moon is high over the forest, but little light makes its way through the thick boughs of evergreens. The pack is running tonight. Their numbers are rarely the same sometimes seven, sometimes nine. It is always an odd number and they are never on the hunt. They are summoned.
The scene shifts. The shaman sits before a fire in a clearing. The smoke curls up into the inky blue night sky. A few stars are visible, but the shaman does not look up. He is waiting. He can hear the paws on the forest floor even at this distance.
The pack can sense they are close. They speed up managing to avoid every tree in their path, plunging through shallow streams effortless on their way to the shaman.
He waits patiently, never moving. Not even when they break into the clearing. The wolves study the shaman with disinterested yellow eyes. They do not wish to be here. Suddenly, the flesh begins to melt from the shaman and slowly his bones appear and he crumbles into nothing more than a heap of ivory.
Some of the pack begins to advance on the marrow filled treat. They may not be hunting, but they will not turn down such an invitation. Then those who do not wish to partake turn against their own to defend the bones. The defenders are often outnumbered and snarling and biting. If the succeed the shaman begins to regenerate. Slowly sinew and flesh knit together into a being. he takes a piece of burning wood from the fire and scares away the members of the pack that would have done him harm. Then he sits down with his defenders and the night fades away.
This was the dream I had over and over as a child. I usually woke up in a cold sweat when the shaman began to decay. It really was feature film quality. One night I forced myself to watch it all. That's when I found out about the pack dividing itself over the remains and the shaman's regeneration.
There always seems to be one dream that reoccurs to a person that is theirs to interpret. My dad had one with cats and spoiled milk; mine was the wolves.
I finally sat down and figured out what it all meant. Whether you believe in dream interpretation or not, I must say that I have only had the dream maybe twice after I figured out what it all meant. That's twice in near ten years after having it nightly or, at the very least weekly, as a young girl.
The shaman represented me as a whole. The pack: my self-image. The wolves that advanced on the bones were all my doubts and fears. Every part of me that beat me up and told me I was no good. That I should be swallowed hold and destroyed because there was no purpose for me. Every mistake I made in reality there was a voice in my head ready to devour me with criticisms. The defenders were that bit of confidence I always had, the last bit of hope. For a very long time that bit of me was outnumbered by the self-loathing. Finally, that part became stronger to the point it could overcome the adversary.
This dream was my mind's method of telling me to layoff myself. I needed to be scared witless in my sleep to see it, but eventually I did. I still hold myself to an overly high standard; just not nearly as bad as before. When I do start to get over bearing the dream will float to the front of my subconcious and remind me to back down for the time being.

Tourist Girl

We all have some taste or other, of too ancient a date to admit of our remembering that it was an acquired one.
~Charles Lamb

Sorry all for missing last week. Never found a moment alone with my keyboard. Classes are winding down and I should be focused on my last quizzes and papers, but right now I cannot. I am a week away from my birthday and as a present I was taken to the House on the Rock today.

I have spent the last four birthdays saying I will go to this attraction that has been practically in my backyard, just off the beaten path about 50 miles but close enough that there was no excuse. I'm sure that every place has that attraction that everyone that lives there knows about, yet never seems to get there. I was amazed at the number of people in Arizona that have never seen the Grand Canyon. It seems that if it's near you, you never go. Vacations are meant to get you away from the familiar, or if you're like my family, either set off for a destination and get lost or set off and get distracted by something else along the way.

So what is the House on the Rock? Just the most amazing example of what can go on in a visionary's head if left to their devices and allowed to follow through! This place is amazing! There's so much STUFF that you can't take it all in. I'm linking to the official site to get a better idea of things. This is a self-guided tour type thing. It is not a museum in the normal sense. The creator, Alex Jordan, collected things, and made a home for them on this rock. He created an entire house and incorporated the natural beauty of the area. There are trees growing out of the floor!

Far easier to just supply the info than babble:

During the 1940's, a man named Alex Jordan discovered a 60-foot chimney of rock in the beautiful Wyoming Valley. It was here he decided to build a house on the sandstone formation called Deer Shelter Rock. Jordan built the house as a weekend retreat and never intended it to be a tourist attraction. However, people kept coming to see the architectural wonder they had heard about. Jordan eventually started asking for 50 cent donations. That was only the beginning. The 14-room house is the original structure of what is now a complex of many buildings, exhibits and garden displays.

Alex was a collector all his life and enjoyed visiting museums; however, he did not want The House on the Rock to be a museum. He intended it to be much more than that. Though parts of the collections could have easily found their way into museums, The House on the Rock is more of a trip through the wild and fantastic imagination of Alex Jordan than a visit to a dusty, lifeless museum.

In December of 1988, Alex sold The House on the Rock to longtime associate Art Donaldson, a collector and a businessman who shared his broad interests. Alex remained at The House on the Rock as Artistic Director until his death on November 6, 1989. Art Donaldson continues to own The House on the Rock and builds on Alex's dream of expanding and entertaining visitors from all over the world. Alex continues to be in his own words, "Present but not voting".
(From: http://www.thehouseontherock.com/HOTR_AttractionMain.htm )

Why did I want to go here? Because I've heard about it for ages! This is one of the attractions my state has to offer that I've never gotten to see out side the 'Discover Wisconsin' programs on PBS that show the same footage year after year. Nothing can compare! In one morning/afternoon (it took us three hours to tour and one of the sections if closed right now even!) I got to see the world's biggest carousal (not a single horse head on it), a multitude of pneumatically control instruments so precisely designed to play that it knocks your socks off, the Infinity Room, a free standing hallway that is supported by one very thin cable, a very large squid fighting a whale, and learned a bit more about history.

I have a friend that has been going on about how crazy this guy had to have been to do this. I don't think she sees the full scope of it. There is a fine line between genius and crazy and in my opinion this is genius! This is what a person can do with initiative and drive. This is what can be done if you don't listen to what is supposedly normal. If someone were to try Alex Jordan's vision in today's world it wouldn't happen. Either the person would become discouraged because of everyone telling him/her that they are crazy or some major company would get involved breaking the enchantment. We tend to look down on people who follow their visions. Maybe the reasons is because too few people are willing to follow their own.

Essay Girl

You only live once- but if you work it right, once is enough.
~Joe E. Lewis
This is actually an essay I did for my Literature in Pop Culture Class. I am very thankful to Wilmaryad O'Scallas for his help in this paper and permission to use his words in this text. Not to mention assistance in the proofreading and editing. For more words from him, check out his blog: http://gayarabguy.blogspot.com/ . The purpose of this paper was to identify a key component of life in this technological Internet age. I chose the concept of Identity on the Internet and how it is not necessarily such a form of escapism but a sense of true self. I lost 1 point on the project because I put on a cover sheet which is APA styling not MLA.
A Greater Sense of Self:
The Rise of True Identity Through the Internet
Who am I? is the question identity seeks to answer. It gives importance to the wielder who knows who they are and what they want. The Real World allows the formation of identity easily. The place where a person grows up, the people they surround themselves with are all factors to create a person. However, there is a part locked within that is still a part of the person but cannot be displayed for all the world to know. A sort of secret self that must remain hidden due to the social pressures of Real Life. The advent of the Internet, however, allowed for a greater sense of self and a place for the many facets of identity to shine brightly.
Initially the Internet was a form of escape. The user could log in and be who/what-ever they desired. Role-playing games are still an online pleasure and offer a chance to show off skills no longer available in the real world, such as the masculine man slaying hordes of demons. There is networking within the games and friendships are fostered. It is not the avatar that becomes known to other, but the person playing. (Roesler, 427)
Now there is a shift to this strategy. Instead of hiding one’s unacceptable traits, the Internet allows the creation of communities for those sharing the same interests or desires. The social pressures to establish and prove themselves real men is lifted from men, and women are allowed to get to know a person better before meeting them thanks to the Internet. (Roesler, 427) Individuals create themselves and are defined by others and this is what goes into the creation of identity, but how can identity be determined or measured?
Most research is staged. The participants know they are being watched. This means results will be inaccurate. Research has not been followed through as to how on-line identities emerge. (Giles, 465) It also takes time to establish one’s self within a community. The level of commitment to the research takes its toll and the research needs to use tiptoe around sensitive situations as to not implicate or prejudice themselves or the observed party. (McKenna, 62)
Web logs, or blogs, have become an integral part of the creation of identity. A new blog is created every second of every day. (Zamora) It is simple to create them and once the writer has made their point or wishes to dismiss the blog they can remove it or start another.
What has started this phenomenon? It is a need within the author. It allows the person to be the star of their own show. It also is a staging ground for identifying with others. When it comes to certain topics the Internet may be the only source to find like minded people. (Zamora)
This is true if the topic is especially controversial. There are blogs and newsgroups on nearly every topic from white supremacist to pro-anorexia to homosexuality. The Internet allows these people to gather. It also allows a place for those who do not have anywhere else to go.
As Wilmaryad O’Scallas, the author of the blog Gay Arab Guy put it:
I hate the word blog; it sounds awful. I write because there is no
way for me to express what's boiling inside me. I have distanced
myself from anybody who's ever called themselves a friend, because
most betrayed my trust or are simply gay-unfriendly.
Sharing my worries with my family is even more difficult. I live
in a Muslim Arab country where homosexuality is a dishonor that
threatens the tradition of honor preservation. So, even if my own
family is not very religious, they care about what people say.
Therefore, I can't simply confide in my mother or brothers when
I, for example, go through a heartache.
I write anonymously because I would be in trouble if somebody
who knows me happened to read my blog. In fact, if you are outed or
"unmasked" as being gay in my country, you can wish your peace
of mind goodbye.
(O’Scallas, interview 1/27/10)
Therefore, a more true personality is unleashed on the cyber world.
Of course, being open with one’s personality opens a larger risk of rejection. Haters emerge. These are people who disagree with the initial idea and ‘flame’ the author. Flaming is the use of abusive and often derogatory language toward another person. (Giles, 471) The anonymity, therefore, goes both ways. The author of the topic or thread has limited interaction with those who respond, and the flamer has the option of anonymity as well.
Whereas this situation may cause the individual to become more isolated and reclusive in Real Life, the online world allows a greater chance of support. Followers of a thread or blog can voice their opinion and often the flamer becomes flamed. (Giles, 471) The distance between people is suddenly narrowed; people living half a world away can now communicate and show support.(Talamo, 110) Research has also shown that the relationships formed on the Internet are real and many have reported that the online friends are just as important as those they see daily. (McKenna, 72)
One need only look to the article by Allucquere Rosanne Stone regarding case of Julie Graham/Sanford Lewin. Those within the social group that considered Julie a real person and loved her as a friend were crushed when they found out about the deception. (123-141) The human set of emotions does not necessarily need to meet or be near a person to form a bond.
The use of the Internet to shift personality and identity is also high. It is hard to change a Real Life personality. When friends, family, or co-workers see a shift in persona they can easily veto the change. Because of this rejection the person will revert to the way they were. The experiment has failed. (McKenna, 60)
However, in the Virtual World, new social scenes are established. In the process self-concept is allowed to change. The stereotypes that plague an individual in the real world are no longer enforced. The slate is wiped clean, so to speak.
The boundaries blur though, if a person enters a meaningful discussion online and finds the effects positive, more of those traits will show off-line. (Talamo, 111)
No matter the mask, the reality behind the person shows through. Hiding from inner truths is very difficult and the character has to be perfect in order for it to be maintained. This, however becomes consuming and, just as positive traits can change a person, negative ones can surface and create a new identity.
Mr. Bungle’s explanation of his actions in Julian Dibbell’s A Rape in Cyberspace : “I engaged in a bit of psychological device… It was purely sequence of events with no consequence on my RL existence.(167)” may seem to argue against the point of this paper, but it cements an aspect. There is a part within every person that they bring forward in the online world they would never do in Real Life. There are hidden desires that make up the identity and cannot be expressed. This is what was meant by a greater sense of self.

Works Cited
Dibbell, Jullian. "A Rape in Cyberspace." CyberReader. Joseph Opiela, 2005. 155-77. Print.
Giles, David. "Constructing Identities In Cyberspace: The Case of Easting Disorders." British Journal of Social Psychology 45.3 (2006): 463-77. Academic Search Complete. Web. 22 Jan. 2010.
McKenna, Katelyn, and John A. Bargh. "Plan 9 From Cyberspace: The Implications of the Internet for Personality and Social Psychology." Personality & Social Psychology Review 4.1 (2000): 57-75. Academic Search Complete. Web. 22 Jan. 2010.
O'Scallas, Wilmaryad. "Blogging in the Dark: Necessity of Anonymity." Online interview. 26 Jan. 2010.
Roesler, Christian. "The Self in Cyberspace." Journal of Analytical Psychology 53.3 (2008): 421-36. Academic Search Complete. Web. 22 Jan. 2010.
Rosanne Stone, Allucquere, ed. "In Novel Conditions: The Cross-Dressing Psychiatrist." CyberReader. Joseph Opiela, 2005. 123-41. Print.
Talamo, Alessandra, and Beatrice Ligorio. "Strategic Identities in Cyberspace." CyberPsychology & Behavior 4.1 (2001): 109-22. Academic Search Complete. Web. 22 Jan. 2010.
Zemora, Dulce. "How Blogs Have Changed The World." WebMD - Better information. Better health. 24 Apr. 2010. Web. 24 Jan. 2010. .

Biker Girl

All of us are watchers - of television, of time clocks, of traffic on the freeway- but few are observers. Everyone is looking, not many are seeing.
~Peter M. Leschak
It's spring!!! Finally. Well, hopefully, there have been snow flurries this week around here and I know there have been downright blizzards elsewhere, but by the sunshine streaming in the window I'm calling it spring and I'm going for a ride today!
I finally got my battery for my bike and it is time to ride. Problem is I have 150 mile drive before I can throw a leg over the saddle. This is kind of sad, but my apartment does not have a garage so Dad's is the safest place for my Black Angel.
There is one thing I am very thankful for and it is that Dad did not discriminate. He had always said that if he had boys they would have had Harleys when they turned thirteen; he had girls instead and Sis and I both got them. It is the most freeing experience to be out on the road and the sights seen can blow your mind. Officially, I have owned my bike half my life once my birthday hits in May, but I have not had a chance to log very many miles. Of course, if you look at the number of test rides and Dad's bikes I have become a pretty fair rider. A long way from running circle in the backyard.
So, today will be my first ride of the season!

(Yes, she is using her air cleaner cover to apply mascara)

The Caption of this Photo: Do this, Do that, Blah, Blah, Blah.

Saved Girl

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
Colossians 4 v 12&13

It is the Easter season. I have mentioned before my religious background and it amazes me the relationship I kept with God while I had so many issues with the clergy. However, I never continued the story. I stopped going to church after my Confirmation (I am Lutheran so this was age 14-ish. It was actually the day before my birthday. So double party and presents!) When I moved to Arizona for school I found a church down there that helped keep me sane.

I saw a shift in the message. It was no longer force feeding me the laws of the Bible, but the ideas of Jesus' lessons. It is these lessons that make a world of difference. I had lived my life trying to adhere to archaic laws that are near impossible to follow. I was still missing the point though.

When I moved back home I did not seem t have time for church. It was only after the relationship with my ex ended and I was two-hundred miles from home that I decided to go back. That was where the above verses were brought to my attention.

I had it all so very wrong. I did not need to try so hard for forgiveness. I was forgiven! God had cleansed me long before my birth by sacrificing His Son! How did I go through so many years of Christian education and miss the most important message? I was missing the compassion part hardcore and it was not toward other people, but toward myself.

I still hold myself to an almost unreachable high standard. I feel no one else will hold me accountable if I do not and it is silly. Dad always tells me to 'let go and let God' and so far every time that I do, it has lead to the best parts of my life.

So this Easter season, as the chocolate bunnies are loosing their ears, take a moment to think about the other meanings to this day. I have my one and only Easter decoration out, an Easter bunny hand-sewn by my Great-Great Aunt Marie, who I last saw the Easter before she passed away.(Amazing woman,96 years old, she and Uncle Herbert were married 72 years!)

I know my readership is varied, that my religious views are not shared by everyone, and by no means am I out for conversion, I merely tell my story.

So today marks Good Friday, the day my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ died upon the cross. It is a symbolic marking considering the date changes every year and it seems to have snuck up on my this year. On Sunday the celebration of the Resurrection takes place and I will raise my voice to shout: He is Risen!

He is Risen, Indeed!


Welcome to my little part of the blogosphere. I started this blog for the express purpose of proving that no matter what happens in life, you are not alone. I am sharing my stories from my school days, dating disasters, and personal trials.