Embracing fairy tales

"Why do you read those to your kids?", my friend asked.
"They're fairy tales. They all have a lesson to be learned." I said
"Yes, but you read them the original ones. Everyone dies in those. why cant you let them watch TV and be done with it?"she looked at the book in disgust.
"Well, yes, but reading these tales fosters their imagination and problem solving skills. I mean, how else would you know how to handle a big bad wolf, or a giant? Do YOU know when it's appropriate to call out Jack Frost's name?" The blank look she gave me told me everything I needed to know. She didn't. What a shame.

This was probably the zillionth time I'd had this same conversation with this same friend. She honestly believed that I was harming the girls by letting them learn about all kinds of mystical creatures and old folklore, because that's what fairy tales are. In her mind, they're old, have no lessons whatsoever, and therefore, no value at all. I disagree completely, which is great, because that alone fosters discussion...but, I digress.

Fairy tales are wonderful! They do teach lessons, no matter how embedded in the tale they are. They are meant to be frightening because the world is not always such a kind place and their value is astronomical! These tales were collected from elders a long time ago. We should treat them as treasures and not some stories meant solely for the entertainment of children. When did it become ok to dismiss these stories this way? How is it harmful to feed a child's imagination?

I love watching children's faces as they hear about Hansel and Gretel, about Little Red Riding Hood, about Snow White and Rose Red, about creatures that haunt the woods: pixies, fairies, goblins; you name it. It's akin to lighting a torch in a dark cave! They want to know what the lesson in each story is, how the problem was solved, how they could have done it better....it's a perfect way to engage them in conversation. Why not foster that? I mean, it's wonderful to teach children facts, give them the truths of daily life, but why take away all magic? I think my friend is missing that part of it all.

I get a little mad when I have conversations like this. Not because I have to defend my position, there just isn't one right answer when it comes to how people parent their children, but because people are losing their love of reading and the magic that comes with it. That's really what it boils down to. It's ok to watch a show about facts, the reality of life, but it is absolutely boring to pick up an old book and get lost in it. There is magic let loose in the world, when a book is opened. You're absorbed, transported, taken away to a different place, different worlds, and take part in an adventure that is unfolding right before your eyes. What is so harmful about that?

My friend just doesn't see that. It doesn't make sense to her because she has replaced books with electronics. She loves techie stuff, which is probably where the disdain for books and fairy tales comes from--it's just not "in" enough for her. That's fine for her but not for me. While I love the techie stuff too, I respect these tales from long ago. Someone thought they were valuable enough to put into a book, to preserve for future generations. This information, no matter in what form it was presented, was deemed valuable or essential to life. Surely, they still hold weight today, in this age. At least, they do at my house.

So, our friendship plods on, not as strong as before. My friend has since moved away, life gets busy. My consolation: when she does come to visit, she can continue to look at me blankly, or even shake her head at me as I teach all our children about when to call on Jack Frost, or how not to upset a house brownie. Deep down, I know the little girl in her is listening and thinking about walking to that dusty old bookshelf and letting a certain book's magic choose her to be its next great reader. There is magic everywhere, you just have to know how to find it, right?

Happy birthday from the Mile High City

This weekend, today in fact, is my birthday. It is not a happy day for me at all. It is a day that comes with a lot of emotional baggage; a cousin who passed away at a young age shares this day with me, as well as the inevitable countdown to the death of my Aunt Emma (March 6th). So, needless to say, my birthday was not celebrated with too much pomp and circumstance. Oh, we had the parties and the family came over to have fun, but there was always that undercurrent of gloom. We knew what was coming around the corner, as it were. It wouldn't be until much later that I would figure out that I shared this day with Dr. Seuss and Jon Bon Jovi. THAT made it a bit more tolerable! Because of this stigma though, or in spite of it, the Sailor decided to gift me a trip to Denver, where the Navy Band is on tour. He was determined to make it a fun day, no matter what. Laissez les bon temps rouler, cher!!

As a birthday surprise, it is awesome. I got to fly on my own to Denver, a place where I'd never been. I am all for adventure at any time of the day, so it was not a surprise for it to begin at BWI Airport. In the TSA line, no less. Yup, there I was in the line, waiting to have my ticket and ID checked, minding my own business. The TSA agent was sitting on his stool and as I hand him my paperwork, he says: "You're very beautiful." Vanessa (my alter ego, who is always on the prowl for mischief), decided to show up right then, look him intensely in the eye, move a little forward to encroach on his space and answered: "Thank you." He was dumbstruck. I am not sure what did it. Maybe he has never experienced anyone staring him down or actually answering him, but he whispered: "WOW." I walked through the line, not giving him a look back, even though he was attempting to regain his composure. I believe the other agents were laughing at him. It was hilarious and classic behavior for my alter ego. Oh, Vanessa!, I thought. My birthday is going to rock.

Vanessa was born in my youth, due to some rogue pixie dust, some empanadillas(I AM Puerto Rican),  and an overactive imagination. She didn't receive her name until I was in my twenties, and it happened outside a club in DC. Go figure, right? A random guy in the club had been trying to get my attention and as we left the club, he saw his opportunity to approach. He invited me to an after-party at a different club and asked for my name. I told him the name was Vanessa, and immediately gave him the phone number for the Reject Hotline, all while laughing in his face. Vanessa, as an alter ego, is brutal. She loves strong women, hates lecherous men, and has a degree in mischief. She is the part of me that comes out when it is time to let loose and have fun. Naturally, she would make her presence known on my birthday weekend. At the airport. Sigh.

The flight itself to Denver was great. The lady in the seat next to me fell asleep and used my boob as a pillow. She was comfortable, so I let her stay there. Nice of me, huh? I was half asleep myself, but the funny thing was that her husband was sitting next to her, so I am sure he had all kinds of odd visions going through his head. I couldn't help but giggle once I figured out what was going on. WIN! Soon enough, we landed in Denver and the airport is huge. While I was waiting for my Navy Band chauffeurs to pick me up( I travel in style, baby! Ha!), I decided to people-watch.

The experience was amazing to say the least. I saw people meeting their family there, people arguing about who made who late in getting to the airport, babies running away from their parents(Run free!! There's freedom, outside!), and a rogue cowboy or two walking through on their way to their destination. Lots of interesting fashion, even more interesting shoes, and a nice mix of color. Enter my next adventure in the form of a young nice guy, who was waiting for his friends to make their way to the airport. He struck up a conversation with me and for the next ten minutes or so, we talked about my spawn and the Sailor. He also talked about his trip there and what he was doing. I remembered he did mention he was busy, so this was a nice treat for him. It was all very fun. Out of nowhere, a group of tween girls looked in our direction and started to squeal. I had been so immersed in our conversation, that I got startled and grabbed his arm. He mentioned that his sort of thing happens a lot, which I thought was kind of random. (Aside: I might have forgot to mention that I wasn't feeling well, and my brain is not functioning on all turbines at the moment, remember that as you read the next sentences.) The girls proceeded to ask him for a picture, to which he obliged. I thought that was nice of him too, and I watched the curious exchange--remember, I thought he was just a regular guy. It turns out, per one of the squealing tweens, he was one of stars of the movie Twilight. D'oh! I couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing. This was total Lisa-candy: make conversations with strangers and have them turn out to be famous. Sheesh! My sister is notorious for getting mad at me when this happens. She always shakes her head at me and says, "Are you serious?! Why does this keep happening?! You need to start taking pictures or SOMEthing. God!". I can't help but laugh because I think the same thing after the fact too. Sorry, Leelee.

Luckily, shortly after that the Sailor and another sailor buddy of ours arrived. It was very nice to see them both after their being away for tour. It had been a long tour for everyone, I am sure. We drove around the airport, saw the teepee-shaped roof, and the blue pony with the red eyes outside the airport--it was a blast! I remarked on the amount of wild rabbits jumping about the grounds of the airport and I think the Sailor mentioned he had counted quite a few on their ride over. Enter our next adventure, it now being 1am and officially my birthday. Yup, it got better!

We ended up having to take a cab back to our hotel, because our ride got a flat tire, and $75 later(or thereabouts), and quite a few local flicking off our cab, we made it to our hotel. I couldn't help but think that this was the way Denver was welcoming me: drunk people having such a great time, that they didn't realize the cab already had a fare, and needed to flick me off. HAHAHA! Vanessa did flick them back off! You get back what you put out there, right?! Right?! The hotel, though, is a nice joint! Kind of dead in the wee hours of the morning, but it was very warm and welcoming. We made it upstairs to our room and I found some cupcakes and a card that the staff of the hotel had left for me. It was perfect timing and a lovely surprise, as I was very hungry from the trip, and needed a little snack before bed. Talk about a great way to end the night!

Cue the sun; my nemesis. After a couple hours of sleep, he kinda gets on my nerves but I was determined to have a good time. After finding some awesome birthday wishes on Facebook, today's adventure led me to an awesome bookstore on 16th Street. Predictable of me, yes, but where do you think a bibliophile goes for their birthday? I guarantee you, it ain't gonna be the nearest bar. That's for nighttime!(giggle) I was able to browse the stacks, sit in the children's section there (a total happy place with lots of Dr. Seuss books today), and take a picture of a book with my mother-in-law's name on it so I could text back to her later. We walked around the mall area there and took in some local color. It was the perfect way to spend the day. I also got hit on again in the street, to which the Sailor and I laughed, because I haven't done anything different to myself. The Sailor seems to think that it is my eyes that are causing a stir. I recently colored my hair very dark again and naturally the gray color pops out. Personally, I just think that my boobs looked great in the top I was wearing, but I digress.

As far as birthdays go, it has been amazing. Full of fun tales to share with my spawn when I see them tomorrow (squeeee!). Most important though, I got to leave home and explore a brand-new place. I got to let Vanessa come out and just be myself, not have to worry about anyone else and spoil myself a bit(Buying books. Watch out! Big spender on the loose!). All that aside, I am grateful for my 32 years on Earth, and glad that I get to experience so many fun things daily, while totally making an ass of myself half the time. Why the universe keeps choosing me to experience so many interesting things, I will never know. I am going to enjoy it all to the fullest while I can, with my ragtag band of misfits, of course! I am hopeful that the spawn is not driving my mother and my sister insane. For the record, they were both laughing at the girls when I called, who apparently had decided to dance around and be silly.

As for my tonight: The night isn't over yet! My birthday is still underway. Who knows what new adventures are awaiting me tonight? Is it wrong that I'm hoping it involves a romp at a vampire bar,  a burlesque show, followed by some dancing at an LGBT dance club? Definitely not, I say! It's all about fun, plus the Sailor is with me. He is a good sidekick for everything! Happy birthday to you, says the Mile High City. I am wondering now what I will answer back later tonight. (Insert naughty laugh here).

On writing, or blogging as it were...

It had been 10 years since I could write. I had a massive writer's block episode and I couldn't break out of it. Writing prompts, doodling upside down, drinking absinthe...nothing worked. No, I won't tell you where but yes, you can still get it, illegal though it is. The Green Fairy helped quite a lot of writers back in the day, why couldn't it help me? Sigh. I went from writing daily in university, helping others brainstorm ideas,  and winning awards for my writing to doing nothing. Nada. The imagination machine simply ceased to work.

It was probably one of my darkest periods because it is the one thing I really wanted to do. To write. I loved grabbing my pen, or turning on the laptop and just letting it flow..whatever came out. It just wasn't happening. It was like the drive, the excitement of creating something had just dried up. During this time, one good friend(who sat next to me in all those writing classes, incidentally) kept encouraging me to write. Not to worry about anything, just try. With his encouragement, I did. Didn't get very far, but the effort was there on the page. Maybe this would go away and I could get a move on with things. Yeah, right!

Time went on and soon enough, 10 years had passed by. I still hadn't really broken out of it but this friend kept at me. He encouraged me to write, mentioned that one of our professors wrote his own book, and was just there always providing me with the fodder for creation. He is an amazing friend, to say the least.

 I don't know what did it. What turned the imagination machine back on? Maybe it was his stubborn encouragement, maybe the stars aligned in the just the right way, or maybe I finally had gotten over the need to create in order to please others and just please myself. I am not sure, but I finally decided that instead of writing a book , a story, poetry, I would write a blog. Weird leap, I know. Purists would say it is not even real writing. To me, after not doing it for a while, it is probably the best way to jump in with both feet and just do it. To write for the sake of enjoying writing and not to please those around me. Not for a grade, not because I was told this is a subject you NEED to write about....just for me.

I am writing almost every other day. Sometimes more than that, sometimes less than that. But, I AM WRITING. It is a release from a prison of my own making and can I just tell you how wonderful it feels? It is like a huge weight has fallen off my shoulders, because I am now comfortable enough to allow the ideas to flow.

I am hopeful that I keep it up. That nothing stops this new creative process, but what I most hope to gain out of this whole experience, is that I am doing something I love. I am writing this for posterity and also writing it for my friend. Because he believed in my skill more than I did. It's nice when someone believes in you like that, it keeps your light from dying out.

As I am writing this, in freestyle as it were, or a madcap diary entry of some sort, I can't help but thinking of Anne Shirley and her conversation with Gilbert Blythe. In that conversation, he told her to write what she knew about because there would always be plenty of people that would read her stories. Anne Shirley scoffed at him but when she had matured enough to heed his advice, she wrote and wrote about the things she knew about. She used her life as the starting point and went on from there to create a novel. A good one too!

I am hoping that I have now matured, like Anne, have the courage to write what I know about, and enjoy it. So that one day, my friend, Gilbert Blythe, can read it.

"Hey, are you from Baltimore?"

It was cold and quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you look around for shadows where there aren't supposed to be any. Then out of the quiet stillness came this: "Hey, are you from Baltimore?!" "Well, yeah and you're not," I answered as I ushered my little pack away. Score one for me!HA! The voice had come from a group of drunk guys, obviously celebrating SOMEthing.  They thought that I was extremely funny, and the Sailor just shook his head at me, smirking because he knew I couldn't leave it alone.

It isn't usually this quiet in Baltimore at ANY time(even with the screaming drunk guy), except that the Ravens were playing and it was 6:30pm on Sunday. The city was dead, which made me a little sad. Baltimore always offers some kind of pulse, even in the oddest of conditions. Suck it up, lady! Let's have fun anyway!

 I had won my spawn a couple of passes to the National Aquarium from the Pathfinders for Autism society. The night promised to be relaxing, as the Aquarium was closed down to the general public and only open to pass holders. They also made it more sensory-friendly, so the lights were turned down a bit and the music was turned off. The girls were extremely excited. In fact, so excited that they were skipping down Pratt Street in anticipation. It was rubbing off on me.

It wasn't that long ago that I would zip out of my university and come to this same place to sit in front of the dolphin tank to think. You see, every Friday you can stay in late if you get in by a certain time and boy would I milk it.I think most of my papers were written in front of the observation windows to the dolphin tank. While most college kids were closing down bars, I was closing down the Aquarium.  On Fridays, anyway.

We made it into the main entrance, after our encounter with the drunk kids on the street, took our coats off and went to touring the Aquarium. The Sailor was a bit excited too. It had been years since our last date there and the place "has changed quite a bit!" There was some construction going on, so the sting ray exhibit was closed off, but other than that...it looked the same, smelled the same, and the walls felt the same. Talk about a sensory experience!

Lots of families with children with special needs and children living with autism were present, which was nice since the night was so they could all enjoy the place without the crowds. In reality, it was quite loud and busy. I looked at my Banshee for the tell-tale signs that she was uncomfortable(she can't do crowds, at all) and to my surprise..she was ok. She pulled on my hand and said, "Mama, it's ok. Let's go."
 And go we did. We jumped on the escalator(Woohoo! You rock on escalators girls!) and managed to wade through all the exhibits(Sorry! Your butt was in the way), pouted when we saw that the Rainforest and the Dolphin show were closed(Why would they close the bestest parts?), and were excited to see all the awesome jellyfish floating about like spacecraft(Dude, those are SO aliens). She took turns looking at things, laughed when she saw the real-life Nemo and Dory, and "concetrated" (concentrated in Banshee-speak) when asked to find the tarantula in a certain exhibit. Even Pixy got in on the fun! We made a bet that whoever found the snake first, who was expertly camouflaged in a branch by the way, got the honor of buying everyone a snack. Pixy won! SCORE! We all had a good laugh and soon enough, two hours had passed and it was time to go. The Sailor had to work extremely early the next day and we wanted out of Baltimore before the bars let out. Gotta head home, chicas!

We made our way out of the Aquarium with lots of lamenting, because "we really want to stay with our dolphin friends, Mama" and "Daddy said we can hang out in Australia with the crocodiles"(I am SURE he did, girls), back out to the quiet streets. We walked in front of the Hard Rock cafe, behind Pier V, all in quiet observation of the night. "Can you hear what it's trying to tell you?", I asked the girls, "besides that the Ravens rule." I looked at both of them pointedly, which gave us all the giggles.

I am sure it was then that we all felt it. The city was welcoming us there. It was happy that we appreciated it. It's pulse or city-melody was intoxicating: the lights on the buildings like glitter, the drunken songs drifting on the breeze, the sounds of water hitting the pier, the smell of the sea heavy in the air, and the feel of comfort and safety all around us. It assaulted all our senses, which was ironic as we had just left a venue that was supposed to be "sensory friendly", and there it was...the nameless feeling that I always looked for in my youth and always found in Baltimore: the feeling of home and belonging somewhere. We belonged there. The city was ours and it was wonderful. She makes no apologies for who she is. In your face, friendly, full of shadows and light, happiness and sadness too. She is history made and history being made. She is Baltimore. Whoa!

On the drive back home, I kept thinking about the reason why I answered the drunken guy that way...besides me being a smart-ass, I mean. Maybe I read him too well and could tell he wasn't all there(he WAS drunk), maybe it was the regional US accent(he said BALTimore, not Bawl-mer), maybe it was the way he was dressed(like Zack Morris), or maybe it was just plain obvious that he didn't know where the hell he was or where the hell he was going...but I was certain of this: I knew where I was, what I was doing, where I was headed, and who I was going with. It felt good.

So, if I could have a rewind of that moment, please maestro!
"Hey, are you from Baltimore?", asked the drunken guy in an overly loud tone, while he weaved in between two other drunken guys.
"Well, yeah and you're not," answered the no-nonsense city she-wolf, as she ushered her littles and her mate to their destination, without a glance back...

Yup, it still seems like the right answer to me!

Letter to my 15yr old self

Hi Lisa!

You might not know me now, but you will know me later on in life. See, my name is Lisa, and to put this simply, I'm you. You see, I'm sitting in a dark dining room of a house you will know in the future  and I thought to myself there are some things I think you should know. I'm not sure the why of it all,  but maybe that will become more evident in this missive.

I want to begin by telling you a story. There once was a forest, and in this dark place, lived a she-wolf with her pups. She was a strong thing, always kind to her pack, loving with her pups, and free. Free to go wherever she pleased. By her side, after dealing with more line wolves than she'd care to admit(thank ya very much), there stood a wonderful male wolf. He was kind, bold, daring, and a bit of a jokester. Even though the she-wolf was strong, she was faltering. You see, she'd lost two pups through no fault of her own, members of her pack had left her, and she found herself not as free as she used to be. She would go through the motions doing wolfy things, but she had lost her way. That is a bad thing for an Alpha. It means that the rest of the pack is confused, unsure about what to do because their leader isn't there. When one falters, they all falter together. Well, in one of her usual trips for food and such, this she-wolf saw a ray of sunshine. She decided she would chase it and eat it, because that's what wolves do. She never stopped to think that it might be to replace the light in herself, because she'd become as dark as the forest. She chased it, tumbled a few times, and she thought she ate it. Well, the truth is, she didn't eat it. How can you eat a sunbeam? But, a funny thing happened to this she-wolf. She regained her strength, she walked in beauty, and for once felt she was at peace. When asked by her pack what changed, she'd mention the day she ate a sunbeam and it changed things for the better. The pack would smile and were happy for her, but they wondered what was up. Then, something happened to one of her pups; she wasn't as happy as her other pup, something was wrong. The she-wolf faltered and was angry because the sunbeam she ate must have gone out. She was so angry at the forest, at her pack, at the world, that she went out looking for a new sunbeam. She didn't find it and became angrier still. So she ran until she couldn't run anymore to get this anger out. When she stopped to catch her breath, there in front if her was a little meadow surrou ded by new trees, new flowers, and all throughout there were sunbeams! She didn't believe her luck and attempted to eat every single one of those sunbeams. Suddenly, after trying to eat the sunbeams for what must have been hours, she stopped. She looked around her and thought how silly she must look doing this thing. Seriously?! Sunbeams?! She thought, meditated, and tried to figure out why she felt so happy when she ate the first sunbeam. Did she eat it? She wasn't sure anymore but she knew that she felt happy, carefree, like her old self after that. Maybe that's what made her feel better! That she paused long enough to be impulsive and do something just to see where it went....like she used to before she had terrible times. Well, she trudged home, thinking all the way and she told the pack about her journey. That's what it was, a journey! She told them how she felt, how she was feeling, and that she wanted badly for things to change for the better. The pack felt her strength returning and so they were happy. It was almost like there was a chain connecting all of them and they were all themselves again. The she-wolf didn't know what was ahead of her, but she knew that as long as she remembered her sunbeam journey, she would be all right. She'd never let herself go back to that dark place in the forest again, she'd walk in sunlight and beauty wherever she went.

Do you understand the story, Lisa? That she-wolf in the forest? She's you. You as a young girl, as a young mother, as a young woman...she is you. I want you to know that there will be times that you will find yourself in that deep, dark part of the forest. You will feel lost, confused, and weak. I cannot promise that you will find that meadow of sunbeams right away, but I never want you to stop looking for it. You are not alone. You will have a great partner who will love you above all things, you will have two children here with you, and two you have lost. You will surround yourself with your own pack. And all will be as it was meant to...in its own time.