So I know this person who is the self-help queen. If there's a book on how to improve it, she's got it. How to be your own Best Friend. How to cope with the loss of a family member. How to get over the death of your goldfish (did I mention she doesn't have a goldfish?) But I digress. After graduation, I was overcome with such a wide range of emotions, I didn't know which one was the true me. I was scared to go out into the "real world" and be an actual person. I was angry about all the high school bullshit I never let get to me before. I was relieved that I'd never have to take another chemistry class. I was sad that I'd never eat lunch in the quad with the music playing, enjoying the sun on the steps. But the one emotion I lacked was what everyone else seemed to be feeling; happy. And I thought to myself, maybe there are some people who never reach that level of happiness everyone else has. Maybe that part of me is broken. Maybe I should be on medication (scary thought for me, I hate taking meds.) And then....swooping in like superman in a pink mini-skirt and sunglasses, was my friend. Armed to the teeth with every book that could possibly apply to my situation; Coping with empty nest syndrome (that would be more for my mom..), You Graduated...Now What? and All you need to know about life after high school. I chose the least scary one of the bunch, and hoped my friend wouldn't stand idly by and wait for me to read. Fortunately, she didn't. With a hug and a wink she was gone, taking with her the smell of bannana boat sunscreen and an air of joy. Feeling bereft, I looked at my prize; How to be happy, dammit. I couldn't believe this is what my life had come to. A self-help book where the author swore in the title in some vain attempt to shock the reader into choosing the book. Ah, well. Let the healing begin.

This entry is going to be a little long, so if you're one of those people who don't like to...well...read..feel free to click out of this blog. Not all of us can be readers. Go ahead. Go. Enjoy the beach and your summer job. You don't need to learn the life lessons of this funny, true, wise book. I'm sure you're a complete person. For the rest of you who are (*gasp!*) not perfect, here's the book. I promise it's worth the read.

"                                                                       you.

You are born into this world an innocent. Guilt-free. Sugar-free. Caffeine-free. You are noble and pure. Then suddenly....

You are spanked. Really Hard. This is unfair. You have done nothing wrong. You know that for a fact.

You haven't had time to catch your breath, let alone time to covet a neighboor or furtively screen calls on your answering machine. You don't even have an answering machine yet. You don't even have people to avoid yet- you are that spanking new.

although you are only 3 1/2 seconds old, you have just been taught a big life lesson.

You must not live in denial that dissappointment and failure and pain and conflict and darkness and evil exist- they are out there.

Every silver lining has its cloud.

This is a world of duality; of good and bad, yin and yang, decaffeinated and caffeinated. So you must always be prepared!

It's like this:

If you don't accept that Good Humor Trucks existed, then you'd risk getting run over by one someday. Well, the same goes for those "Bad Humor" Trucks that are dangerously careening around out there. You also know that just because Bad Humor trucks exist, does not mean you must walk around constantly looking for fleets of them- or else you'll never be able to get anywhere- and you'll miss out on the now.

Life lesson #20

You must have Great Non- Expectations.

It's self-defeating living in a tense future-tense, second guessing, third-guessing, 158th- guessing life. You accept: you live in a world of uncertainty. This uncertainty ingredient is what makes for that hot and inimitable entree called "The Future"- otherwise all would be permanently frozen in time.

You realize uncertainty affects everyone and everything on this planet- right down to the teeny-weeny electrons. You've heard even your Local Quantum Physicist cannot predict the future of pet-laboratory electrons when they are let loose in experiments. Sometimes these electrons live the life of a wave, sometimes a particle- one never knows, which can be very unsettling. You realize that if even a smart Quantum Physicist can't predict the future of an electron- one of the teeniest particles found in the vast universe- then you are no better off trying to lay down bets on that bigger and lumpier chunk of the universe called "Your Life." So you resign your frequent flier membership at the Frequent Flier Club into the future. And you ban those Frequent Flier Club Cheerleading Chants, like:

1. "I'm worried that..."

2. "I can't wait until..."

3. "Someday I will..."

4. "What if..."

5. "I'll have another scotch on the rocks..."

Which brings you to...

Life lesson #21

You must remember: You are here now...no, NOW...no, NOW! You are a human being not a human was or a human will be.

So you try to spend more time being present- and less time being busy. Though granted, things have gotten a heck more hectic since you were born. You now have an answering machine. (You now even have people to avoid on your answering machine.) You also know that sometimes you can get so outrageously busy that you could pass by a troll standing on the street corner waving a million bucks at you...

and you might not even notice.

meaning?

Life lesson #22

It doesn't matter how fast you get there, if you're heading in the wrong direction. So...you must slow down, and see where you are going, buddy! Though you think instead of calling it "slowing down" it should be called "slowing up", because when you take your time...you save time.

"Slowing Up" (a quickie explanation)

It means you do not live in the past (with old habbits), nor in the future (with not-so-great expectations), but here, in the moment- where thr true you- and your true power- and the true answer to your problems- can all be found. Which reminds you of yet another little story.

"I'm Dancing as Slowly as I Can"

You remember back to a dance class you took at your gym. The teacher showed you this complicated dance that you were expected to learn by the hour's end. You remember thinking: "Yeah right, lady." But then she slowed down the music- played it at a much slower tempo- so you could see the steps weren't so mindboggling- or feetboggling. And sure enough within the next 60 minutes you were a regular Fred Astaire.

You know the same approach works for the fancy footwork it takes to switch out of a bad relationship or a bad career. At first glance it looks like so much efort. Then when you relax you see what the Buddhists see... the 1,000 mile journey begins with one step. It's like how in the movies, folks like Clint Eastwood or Sylvester or Sigourney know to remain cool and calm even when their future looks bleak and doomed. Although these people are often called "action heroes," you know their real power comes from being "still heroes," masters of the art of staying still within- of being fully, deeply present. The Buddhists call this mindfullness. Though in many ways it's like mind-unfullness because it's all about entering into an empty-mind state, void of worried and fears and insecurities.. a state that can best be achieved through regular meditation. Which brings you to...

Life Lesson #23

When you practice regular meditation, you find you are able to see so much more.

Meditation works like one of those shake-up-snow-dome thingies- it helps the flaky stuff in your mind settle down, so you can see more clearly what you need and want. So once a day you just sit, stop, become a human still life. Do nothing. Be nothing. Except breath. You become at one with your breath. You breathe. in and out. In and out. In and out. You shhhh and ignore the shhhh*t. You've found that once you open your eyes from meditation, that's when you see stuff like...

Whaddayaknow...that chain around your leg is attached to a teeny weeny twig. Whaddayaknow...You are really an eagle who longs to soar in the sky. All you have to do is flap!

Which brings you to....

Life Lesson #24

When you become calm and serene on the inside, the world becomes more calm and serene on the outside.

You find that when you meditate more, you make better choices more- find better people more- and better opportunities more. So much so...it feels almost like magic!

Some may call this good fortune "synchronicity." Some may call it "luck." Some may call it "intuition." Some may call it Ralph. (Admittedly very few people, though.) Some may call it "tapping into the collective universe." But you're a rational person. So you prefer to call it what scientists call it: The invisible theory of chaos at work. Which brings you to...

Life Lesson #25

You must understand that there is chaos in this world- as well as order in all chaos. In the same way there's a order in a seemingly chaotic subway station, there's order in all the chaos of life around you. The trick is to try to see the order in your chaos, and to accept that...nothing in the universe is random. Both form and formlessness are connected within the same vibrating field all around you. All molecules are energy- and all energy is in motion at varying speeds- all around you, at all times. Some molecules vibrate at slower speeds- and those vibrating at very slow speeda are what you presently perceive as the material world. And those molecules vibrating at hyperfast speeds are the invisible energy of your thoughts. Yes, thoughts, too, have energy. In other words: the only difference between you and this book are the configuration and speed of your molecules. Otherwise, you and this book are made of the same stuff, vibrating in the same interconnected field. OK, it's metaphor time...

"Field Goals"

You are like a tiny fish surrounded by a field of water but unable to see this water. What's going on in this field around you sends out waves that affect you. Likewise, what you do- and think- sends out waves into this field around you. This includes your negative thoughts- which can create distracting tidal waves that block you from seeing how to best get to your goal.

the explanation:

You are like a tiny fish surrounded and connected to the energy field that originated from that pot of Bubbling Primordial Stew. You- yes, lil' ol' you- are connected to all the infinite knowledge found in this original macro Primordial Stew ocean.

the explanation of the explanation:

If you shift your awareness from the ordinary- which can be done through meditation as well as basic relaxation- you can sense this infinite, invisible, vibrating, all-knowing energy that is within you and all around you, and can tap into the stuff that some call intuition, some call synchronicity, and some call Ralph

the explanation of the explanation of the explanation:

When you are calm within, you can better see the order in the chaos- almost as if you have been given a secret map of this chaos that shows you the paths you need to get where you need to go!

For example part 1: This infinite, vibrating, all-knowing energy is what dogs tap into when they sense an earthquake coming.

For example part 2: And what mothers tap into when they sense that their distant baby is in danger.

For example part 3: And what you tap into when you think of a person and then they call you moments later.

For example part 4 to 1,000,000,000: And what you tap into when you meet the very type of person that you have in your head that you've been needing to meet- in business and/or love, etc. etc.

Once and for all...all is One. You know: all of this sounds weird, freaky, psychedelic, man. You also know: it explains a lot of the weird, freaky, psychedelic, man things that have happened to you. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #26

You must show more respect for the invisible world, because often what you don't see is what you get. Just look at odorless gas. Well, that is if you could look at odorless gas. It's invisible, yet it has the power to change your life...i.e. kill you. And look at television. It is merely a box with wires. Yet when invisible energy passes through it, it too has the power to change your life. i.e. kill your taste level.

And look at harmonic resonance- which you can look at, on any two guitars. When an "E" string is plucked on one, it will resonate on the other. You believe harmonic resonance works with people, too. When you speak openly from your heart, the hearts of others seem to open. This is because you are helping the people around you to vibrate at your same higher harmonic level. You've heard this called "companion energy." And you believe that in the same way the invisible germs of a cold can be contagious, or the invisible oxygen dynamics of a yawn can be contagious, the invisible energy of thoughs are contagious.

Your Local Quantum Physicist has even documented how the brain has electical energy that gives off varying vibrations depending on thoughts and mood. Because like energy attracts like energy, it makes sense that positivity might indeep attract positive results- even "positive, lucky coincdences." You believe this may also explain why the rich get richer, why misery loves company, and why whenever you've already got a paramour it's way easier to get a paramour. Ans this is also why fear attracts fear. Like your fear of not being able to fall asleep seems to attract the problem of your not being able to fall asleep. Ditto for your fear of being too successful.

Life lesson #27

Worry and doubt can actually be prayers and visualizations- and self-fulfilling programming- for things you do not want. The world is your mirror. Everything is created twice. What you have running in the programming of your mind eventually manifests itself in the outer world. So if you want to change your outer world, you must first change your internal mental programming. When you try to change the external world first, it's like trying to change the picture on the TV screen by rubbing it will a cloth. You can rub, and rub, and rub- but it's futile, baby. However, when you change your mental programming- who you are thinking you are and what you are thinking you deserve- you find the world around you changes simultaniously. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #28

Chaos Theory affects you daily-

From the turbulence of today's weather to the complicated beatings of your heart, to all sorts of assorted areas in your life. The theory states that there is order and pattern where you might think there is only randomness and unpredictability. One of the most talked about principles of Chaos Theory- The Butterfly Effect- goes so far as to say that even the tiniest action can set off a chain of larger reactions- like the mere fluttering of a butterfly's wings in New York can transform storm systems in Tibet next month. And the tiniest actions can also create reactions within your brain, heart, and body. Your Local Neurologist has even documented how the "action" of the mere twitch of a smile can set off the "reaction" of a stream of happy endorphins throughout your body. It seems the smile forces certain facial muscles to contract, which decreases the flow of blood in nearby vessels, which cools the blood, which lowers the tempurature of the brain stem, which then produces more of a neurotransmitter called serotonin - which then puts you in a perkier mood. Plus your Local Neurologist has also documented how a person who is happy is better able to retrieve happy thoughts/ideas from their brain because these information bits are simmering at similar tempuratures. Which leads you to...

Life lesson #29

There's great power in: I Think Therefore I Have

For all four reasons- psychological, biological, and that other "fuzzy universal spirit (Ralph) zone" - you recognize that positive thinking is a powerful force in achieving your goals. So you decide to follow A Positive Diet Thought Program:

You start your day by reminding yourself how you are the type of person who attracts the thing/quality/love you want. You end your day by loking for the positive things you've brought toward you (in a similar way to when you are waiting in a long, long, movie line, look at how far you've come, rather than at the hopelessly long line ahead.) And...speaking of waiting time...you use yours (waiting for movies, elevators, buses, call-waiting) to repeat the positive thinking mantras

You make a list of all the reasons why you're worthy to get this thing/quality/love you want- and fully convince yourself of it.

You clip photos from magazines of your goal, and keep them for an emotional boost.

You remind yourself of all the other times you've gotten the thing/quality/love you want-which means you can do it yet again!

Then...you do ditto for how others have achieved their goals.

You transform any negative jealousy into positive inspiration- as proof that what you want can be gotten!

You exercise and eat healthy foods so as to keep your mental attitude up and perky.

You recognize that mind and body are one- except during PMS, when mind and body are about 2 1/2

You keep in mind what Ralph Waldo Emerson said about the mind: "A man becomes what he thinks about most if the time." (In other words, you can fall prey to the ol' "I think...therefore I am depressed.")

Whenever you're feeling pissed off or pissed on, you grab for a positive thought and use it as an emotional jack to get your spirit up and running smoothly. Plus, you jump-start positive endorphins by reading something funny- or seeing a funny movie.

Or...you write a list of 10 funny interpretations of that something bad in your life.

Or....you retrain your mind not to focus on this bad thing at all, but on the 9 great things happening

Or...if you only have one great thing happening, you refocus on this, knowing even if it's a tiny positive thing- a little teeny-weeny ember of positivity- if you fan this ember it will gorw.

You know this Positive Thought Diet Program will shape up your life if followed- as long as it's followed regularly.

Life lesson #30

You cannot expect to see results from your Positive Thought Diet Program unless you follow it consistently. You recognize that: work + time + faith = results. You must not give up on your faith. Believing is seeing. Which reminds you of an old joke..

An Old Joke

"H2- Uh-Oh"

A man was drowining in the ocean, hoping maybe God might save him. Soon, a small boat rowed up and offered to help him, but he, still testing to see if God would save him, sent the boat away. Next, a big Yacht came by and offered to help him, but he semt this yacht away, again testing to see if God would save him. Next, a helicopter flew by and offered to throw down a ladder, but the man sent this helicopter away too, still holding out for God to save him. Soon after, he drowned. When the man got up to heaven, he asked God why he didn't save him? God explained, "Who do you think sent the boat, the yacht, and the helicopter?"

YOU KNOW: You're being sent boats, yachts, and helicopters all the time. You just have to jump on board. Actually, this is also the divine principle behind the ordinary story of a girl ultimately marrying the boy next door- how/why/when she finally notices he's right next door.

IN OTHER WORDS: If you want to find a big, sexy, communicative soul mate, you have to first believe in the existence of sucha creature, so you can recognize this creature when it walks by- and not to give up on your search.

AND IN SOME MORE WORDS: If you believe a building exists, then even if you get lost on your way to finding it, you'll keep driving because you know it exists. And you know what you're looking for.

Life lesson #31

Your faith determines your destiny. So you must make sure your faith remains stronger than your mood. You must resist the temptation of giving up when your hoped-for goal doesn't just seem to be showing up! Which reminds you of a quote from that underappreciated Zen Philosopher, Bazooka Joe: "Your success is limited only by your desire." You realize: Joe is right- and pretty deep for a bubble gum guy. In fact, Bazooka Joe has given you another juicy piece of philosophy you often find yourself chewing on...

Life lesson #32

"Never compromise your dreams" Bazooka Joe has said.

Joe's quote reminds you of another famous quote: "The greatest eneny of the great is the good." And what is "the good"? Another way of saying "the choice you accept because you are afraid of pursuing- or have given up on pursuing- a greater choice."

Which reminds you of an old Groucho Marx joke...

Groucho Marx was talking to a friend about marrying an unattractive mate, because a beautiful one could leave you. His friend reminds him: "An ugly one could leave you too." Groucho agrees, but explains, "Yeah, but if they do, who cares?"

You hear that joke and you know: you don't want to be a Groucho Marxist when it comes to compromise: You want to resist settling for second best, or third best, or 127th best, when your #1 choice seems scary or slow in coming. You see: if you cowardly settle for only the 5s life gives you (in lovers, friends, jobs, shoes, etc.) then you won't have a 10 life. Even if you gather a million 5s ( i.e. a million 5-level lovers), because you'll still be creating a median of a 5 life. Not the 10 life you want. You realize: this is also why sometimes after you get a 5 something- you do not want that 5 something- because it is the wrong something- selected by the fearful, insecure, 5-esque something inside you- that pesky 5-esque phantom of your 5-dom past, who holds you back with those convictions that life can only come in one 5-osity flavor. You know, you must let go of those 5s. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #33

When you let go of unnecessary attachments, you pick up speed heading toward your true goals.

For this reason, it's always better to have a short bad relationship than a long bad relationship. Or a short unsatisfying career versus a long unsatisfying career. The sooner the eagle flies the coop, the sooner the high-flying eagle livin' begins. Though you also know it's scary to

let go.

What if you fall? What if you don't have wings after all- and cannot fly? Which brings you to...

Life lesson #34

You must live your life using the same philosophy as a mountain climber uses to climb a mountain: "Never look down. Keep looking forward and upward."

You've read: Most people are not risk averse- but loss averse. They spend too much time looking at all the dangers that can happen if they let go. Not you. You consciously decide to stay focused on what you have to gain by letting go of that unsatisfying job or messed up relationship. But you also know that...it's hard to let go. It takes great emotional strength and endurance to climb up to another level. You also know, the more you climb upward, the stronger you will get because you will be building your emotioal muscles over time. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #35

Letting go and climbing up to higher life levels, means building new emotional muscles. And just like with all muscle growth, you will always feel the pain before you see growth. You've felt this pain first hand- and first heart. Like the last time you broke up with an unsatisfying paramour...in hope of finding a highly satisfying paramour. It was not until much later that you realized this pain did lead to your emotional growth. It just took time, dammit.

So remind yourself to remind yourself that next time you feel emotional pain that you arelucky. You are getting stronger. Things are improving- although you might not see it right away. It's like when your home was being painted and it looked its utmost worst. Total chaos. However, underneath this chaos was renovation in motion. And because you were aware that this painting action was leading to a more beautiful home, you could relaz, breathe easily, accepting the chaos around you. Same goes with your life. Its messy areas are simply areas under construction. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #36

Everything has its process. You must respect this process. Just like with the painting process, you life improvement process can't be rushed. Which reminds you of something very deep and wise your painter told you as he headed out the door for midday pizza: "You can't paint over a wet coat." he said. "You gotta wait for it to dry, otherwise you keep painting and painting and you get nowhere, you know?" Which leads you to...

Life lesson #37

Often doing less, gets you more. Truly. Less is more...more or less. Getting what you want does not always mean hard work and struggle. Often, it's when you relax and stop resisting that what you want can't resist you. The Taoists advise about this: "Be careful not to turn over a fish too many times or it shall fall apart." However, the Taoists believe in duality, meaning- the opposite is also true. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #38

You must create your own good luck. You must be pro-active- and even pre-active. You must know when it's time to stop sitting around all relaxed, waiting for things to just happen to you- and instead stand up and take life by its shirt collar- and not be afraid to wrinkle that shirt collar. You alone decide on your own level of love and money and happiness you attract to yourself.

Or as Roseanne once said: "The thing women have got to learn is that nobody gives you power. You just take it." You know Roseanne is right. Whether you be a man or a woman- you are your own waiter in this cafe called Life. You decide what to serve yourself- the cheeseburgers of existence or the caviar and champagne treatment. And although the aforementioned champagne was metaphysical champagne, you also need to know what you need to know when it comes to induling in that real good materialistic champagne stuff. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #39

Money will never bring you true happiness- however, happiness will bring you true money.

Expensive champagne will never be the panacea for extensive emotional pain. However, if you are happy doing what you are doing, then that's when the money will surey come. And you also know that when the money does come (as it will) that...

Life lesson #40

You need balance, baby.

It's called the weekend- not the "weakened."

It's not "he who dies with the most toys wins." It's "he who has the most time to play with his toys and the most fun playing with them wins." In other words: all work and no play means a life of all ego and no spirit. True success is not about making lots of moola so you can get yourself expensive toys for your ego- nor is it about getting yourself a cute, sexy person for your ego. True success is about satisfying your spirit with spirit things. For instance, your ego looks at a cute, sexy person and says "Yum, yum. I want that person." But your spirit is smarter. It looks at loving, joyous couples and thinks, "Mmmm, I want that joy, that happiness, that love."

Your spirit wisely knows: it's not a mate's superficial qualities that ultimately make you happy, but the dynamic this mate and you have together- and the blissful feelings this mate can give you in your true (and eagle) heart, Which reminds you of a lesson you learned reading The Little Prince: "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is most important is invisible to the eye." And with this in mind- and heart- you decide to let this wise spirit of yours do all your

life shopping.

And with this in mind- and heart- you also decide: next time a paramour's not gonzo, then you're gone-zo. because you now know: a paramour without love is simply an empty container. And who wants an empty container? The container is not the sustainer. You must not confuse the bottle for the juice. The bottle might satisfy your ego, but the juice can feed your heart. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #41

Prozak Schmozak. Love is the Drug. Love is what you're always looking for in all the things you're looking for. Even your yearning for sex is a dyslexic search for love. AND YOU KNOW IT. AND AD AGENCIES KNOW IT. Love is the #1 marketing strategy, used as a promise in ad campaigns for products from cars to toothpaste to floorwax. And all this lovemania reminds you of a Zen saying: "Basically the archer aims at himself." If you are not a happy person inside you, then nothing outside you will ever make you happy and able to feel love. This makes sense because you already know from Lesson #27 how the world is your mirror. It therby makes sense that if you can increase how happy and loving you feel about yourself on the inside, the more happiness and love you will see and attract from the world around you.

Soon the simplest things around you can bring you happiness and loving feelings- like the way a beam of light shines on a flashy sportscar-

instead of the sportscar itself.

Or the sight of a perfect flower- or an imperfect flower. Which brings you to...

Life lesson #42

Just like there's sexual attraction, there's love attraction.

When you feel the love energy inside you, other people feel it coming off of you- and find themselves wildly- and oddly- attracted to you. You've witnessed this yourself- how whenever you're in love you seem to attract more love to you- as well as other positive stuff. Yes, love is a boomerang, baby. What you have and give away is what you get back. Love energy attracts love energy- for the reasons you learned back in Life lesson #26. It's all about "harmonic resonance" working it's energies on those around you. And so witha fierce heart you work at attaining and maintaining this unconditional self-love for yourself and life within your fierce heart- and when you do, you see how life just loves the bupkiss out of you right back- and big time! Which brings you to...

Life lesson #43

There's a difference between knowing vs. doing

You know all of what is in this book is true- and should be followed. Knowledge and ideas are not enough. You must put in the effort and discipline of action. You must truly live these life lessons daily. You must seize the day...And seize the night...And seize the 3 o'clock coffee break!

You get the idea.

Seize it all. What you seize is what you get.

Life lesson #44

Live now, procrastinate later. Like now, dammit.

Thick, silvery fog misted over the surrounding cars, giving them the appearance of dead beetles, or rocks carelessly scattered across the road. Twisting clammy hands together, I caught the watchful eyes of my father through the rearview mirror. My mother, childlike in her exitement, babbled endlessly about supermodels and how they made it "to the top!" Her words were an essay of fall fashions, world travel, and glamorous photo shoots. Carefully nodding in all the right places, I pressed my palms against the flatness of my stomach, feeling the slight bulge of the toast I'd eaten the night before. Gazing up at me with expectant smiles, the models from Seventeen magazine encouraged me to try harder next time. Wearing perfect bodies and porcelan doll faces, they laughed through the pages; happy, healthy, perfectly at ease in their string bikinis. I wondered when I too, would be perfect. It was my first photo shoot, and I was 13.

Like strange, exotic birds, the photographer and crew dotted the barren shores of Coronado beach. Their faces hid behind oversized sunglasses and porqupine hairstyles. One had a goatee, and all of them wore women's designer jeans, except for the woman; her legs emerged stork-like from a rusty-black mini skirt. She was the first to notice I'd stopped walking a hundred yards or so from where they stood. As if part of the same body, the rest of the crew turned my way in unison, sizing up their play-thing for the day. In fear, I turned to my parents for support, but they'd already left for breakfast. Abandoning their youngest child took no toll on their conscience. Stork woman's legs moved towards me, and I found myself unable to tear my eyes from that moving skeleton. At least it was smiling. "Helloo honey you must be Amanda!" Her voice managed to sound enchanted even at 6 in the morning. "We are sooo exited to see you!" The black paint on her toenails was perfect; defying the sand to touch her feet atop platform sandals. Ebony eyeshadow smeared her eyelids, giving her the appearance of a malnurished raccoon. Fascinated, I had to ask, "Are you going to do my makeup?" A light hand grazed my shoulder, "No honey, I am. That's Beatrice, the photographer's girlfriend." Whirling around, I matched the voice to it's owner. With his spiky highlighted hair, large almond eyes, and pouty lips, he almost looked feminine. The women's jeans hung loosely about his slim hips, accentuating his long torso. He looked like he could be a model himself. Like seagulls drawn to an old sandwhich, the photograpger and crew drew in closer, scrutinizing the tiny little girl; armored in faded jeans and a baby-blue t-shirt. The photographer, by far the most beautiful of these strange birds, held my face in his baby-soft palms. "Let me look at you." He murmured in the gentle voice sometimes used to comfort stray dogs. His fingertips, cool against my hot cheeks, tilted my face towards the soft light of the rising sun. Against my fear, I closed my eyes, trying to decipher their language of photo terminology spoken beneath their breath. A rougher hand with sharp nails pulled dirty-blonde locks back from my face, muttering something about bone structure. The ocean told me to be perfect with it's gentle shush of waves rising and falling; I tried to envision what perfect would look like.  It was then that those soft hands let go, and I opened my eyes to smiling faces. "You're beautiful. Such lovely features." Declared the photographer, and I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "We can do a lot with you. I'm Chad." In a daze, I shook hands with him and all the members of the crew, forgetting their names the moment they were spoken. The makeup artist, Pablo, or it could have been Paulo, set to work immediately to make me beautiful.  
His hands, like Chad's were cool and soft as he applied layer after layer of foundation, color and moisturizer. I'd never known a grown man's hands to be delicate, but he worked with the lightness and precision of Da Vinci on the Mona Lisa. My father's hands, clumsy with affection, preferred to pat my bony shoulder as a substitute for a full-on embrace. He had the habit of tousling my hair with his hands, made rough from years of hard labor. Years of sanding, welding, and putting together broken pieces had earned him numerous callouses, like badges of honor. Dad never felt ashamed of his worker's hands; he earned them every day by doing what he was passionate about. "Follow your Bliss." My Senior English teacher would later say. But that day I wondered, wondered and did not know, if his hands were the same rough texture they had been before. By the time I was in 7th grade, they reached for a glass before any of us, and to his temples in frustration, before any of us in love. Even worker's hands should show affection once in a while.
"You're finished." Blinking away the memory, my eyes focused on Pablo (Paulo?), who sat back to admire his work. Beatrice held up a flirty pink dress, tapping her ebony toenail while I peeled off my clothes in the stark openness. "Too young to be embaressed." I reasoned with myself, goose bumps rising to my nearly naked flesh. Besides, they didn't seem to have a changing room handy on the beach. Unceremonioulsy she pulled the light fabric over my head, let my hair loose from it's hair tie and smiled. "Wait." Cautioned another spiky-haired man who will forever be nameless in memory. He bent me nearly in half and sprayed what felt like gallons of hairspray over my hair. Tossing my head back like I'd seen the Herbal Essences models do, a wave of dizziness rushed over me, and white spots appeared before my eyes. Beatrice caught my swooning body and smiled sympathetically. She knew. Like a best friend, Beatrice giggled and whispered, "Nerves." to the men around us, who also knew. She pulled out a mirror and crowed triumphantly, as though she had created me herself, "Look at you." It must have taken me a full minute to recognize her; that girl in the mirror. Luminous blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, framing delicate cheekbones and gracefully pointed chin. Green eyes, made huge with eyeliner, peeked from beneath long mascaraad lashes. Flawless skin shone brightly beneath rosy cheeks, as though she'd just gone for an afternoon run. The flirty pink dress fell just below her knees, subtle ruffles at the bottom and along the heart-shaped neckline. She looked at least 16, and confident.  Layers of makeup covered her face; like the altered hair and clothes, they armored her against the harsh realities of the Real World. "If you walk into a room like you own it, people will think you do." My runway instructor always told me. For the first time, I saw someone who was actually capable of owning that intangible room. Someone who was capable of being loved. Beatrice squeezed my shoulder in exitement, "Amanda, you're a model." A model. I found my identity.

Obviously, I'm not a model anymore, and I wouldn't want to be even if I could.  Perceptions change over time.  I had such a glamorized view of the industry, it was so magical.  Everything was fresh and new.  Even though memories fade as the years progress, I can recall those experiences as though they were yesterday. I never lost that nervous exitement, walking into each photo shoot.  It was truly beautiful  A chance to be anyone they created; like living art.  The entry above was an excerpt from my senior project, and I thought it kind of applied to my last entry; about feeling the rush of being alive.   I think a lot of that rush comes from new experiences, or an old experience; made new by an altercation of it's usual pattern.  Sometimes the enormity of the newness can be overwhelming, but to quote baz luhrman (The Sunscreen Song) "Do one thing every day that scares you."  It doesn't have to be extreme, like jumping off a building or anything, just something that quickens your breath a little, speeds up your heartbeat.  It can be something as simple as offering your opinion to the class on a subject you care about, talking to a guy/girl you like, or trying a new work out.  Whatever makes you happy, seek out ways to do it.  Make it a priority.  Although I don't want to be a model anymore, I'll never forget that feeling of bliss I got from doing it.  I learned so much about self-confidence and poise, about meeting new people and losing inhibitions.  I believe you get that out of every new experience; some piece of wisdom to carry around for the rest of your life.  If you continue the same monotonous pattern of rituals day after day, what are you living for? Sure, you're alive.  Anyone who breathes is alive.  But that doesn't necessarily mean you're living. 

"Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind." -Rudyard Kipling

I haven't alwasy been "a writer," in textbook definition. In my younger years, I didn't run around the neighboorhood, pad and paper in hand, jotting down the activites of my neighboors. The only time I can recollect such an odd practice was the summer after "Harriet the Spy" was released into theatres, and I just followed suit with the rest of my companions. However, I've been fascinated by the written word as long as I can remember. Part of this fascination comes from my mom, who is, like me, an avid reader. I'd follow her around incessantly, book in hand, begging for just one more story. When this routine wore thin with her, I'd scrounge up the local neigboorhood kids, and we'd act out a story, or invent one of our own. As a last resort, I'd pull out my old stuffed animals so that they could act out whatever fantasy I imagined. More often than not, I'd end up telling the story, rather than acting it out, much to the irritation of my impatient friends. It's only natural that this verbal creation of worlds would translate into written stories later in life. In lieu of the word "writer," I'd like to think of myself as a "creator"- of people, of stories, and ideas. Although everything I've created is somewhat based on real life (write what you know, right?), I'd never written an actual autobiography until my Senior Project. Rehashing important moments from my childhood has been enlightening, refreshing, and a little bit scary. It's amazing how seldom I looked back on the past and really connected it to who I am today. By forcing myself to reach back to the most personal moments, I've learned more about myself, my family, and people in general, than I thought possible.

I never thought that the autobiographical writing process could be so difficult. Unlike other stories which I just "fabricated," this one deserved actual research. To give an accurate depiction of my life, I had to determine who I was; something I'd mulled over in the wee hours of the night but never seriously pondered. Fortunately, I had more resources than I knew what to do with. Since the seventh grade, I've saved notes written in class, love letters to beau's, and kept a journal about my thoughts and feelings. In my room there's a hope chest, intended to contain my wedding dress and other things for when I get married, filled to the brim with notes, stories, and journals. I also began senior year by purchasing enormous notebooks, which I could fill with prayers, old movie stubs, magazine adds, notes, emails, and anything else that I could look back on to remember this transitory period of my life. Sifting through everything took days, not to mention the time it took to organize and read everything. I'd set out looking for specific papers (written about key moments and feelings about a specific time), but became so absorbed in those years I'd nearly forgotten, that I spent nearly twenty four hours straight sprawled out on the floor, pouring over the words which spilled across the pages like marching soldier ants. At that moment I understood the magnitude of the task I was attempting to complete. How does someone decide what's important enough to be included in a life story, and what should be tossed aside with the trash? It all shaped who I am. Having things to write about wasn't going to be a problem; stopping writing would prove to be a challenge. I began forming an outline of key events I wanted to include, and a description of the main characters.

I began writing the story in my old five-star notebook, an element of comfort in that revealing task of throwing myself out for the world to see. Every night I dedicated to writing an hour, which spoke nothing about the bulk of what I wrote from night to night. Sometimes the words came faster than I could write them down, and I scribbled furiously everything I could catch, my writing illegible. Other times I wrote a single sentence, the rest of that hour spent in quiet reflection. The most difficult parts of my life were the hardest to write about, and you can tell I struggled with it by the sentence structure and poor word choice. Sometimes I left things out entirely; there were no words for what I wanted to say. As a result, the most fluid passages are those which deal with events of little or no consequence; moments I enjoyed simply because they were a wonderful experience. In the early stages of writing, I grew very nostalgic, and tried to obtain contact with some of those people I'd mentioned from the past. Unfortunately, only a few replied, and those who did had changed, as people tend to do. It was disheartening to see these people I'd known so well transform into complete strangers, and I still wish I could picture them as the people they used to be from my childhood. I wondered if they felt the same way about me; had I, too, been changed by the ever-present continuation of life? My notebook suggested a strong yes.

The due date for our projects was rapidly approaching, and I wasn't even halfway done writing out the rough draft. My survival instinct suggested I speed up the process. So, I transferred everything I had on paper to the computer, making corrections as I went along. Unfortunately, our ancient word processor has no spell check, thesaurus, or helpful sentence-fragment alerts, so I was completely, 100 percent alone on this. I typed everything from the journal, and disaster struck; serious, undeniable writer's block. So you do what you can: push ups by the computer, play music in the background, use visualization techniques, whatever it takes. In one midnight episode of insomnia/writer's block, I actually believed tuning into John Mayer's "Real World" and dancing around the room in my pajamas would inspire the words to come. This is the insanity of a writer's life. I'd never felt the pressure to "get it done" before; writing was always an oasis, an escape from the pressure of school life and the real world. Sure, I'd been assigned essays and book reports in my AP English class, but those were fun, and short. More than once I wondered if I'd gotten in over my head. The ESLR papers were starting to look mighty good about a week before Senior Projects were due. I had absolutely no idea how I could finish this interminable writing.

And that's when it hit me. At about 3:17 A.M. on an idle Wednesday, I had what can only be called a Thomas Edison moment. Imagine a huge lightbulb positioned directly over my head, glowing with a force worthy of Las Vegas. I wasn't doing this for a grade. If that were the case, I would have just volunteered at some old folks home and explain that they'd helped me find the meaning of life. I would have fed some starving kids in Africa and proclaimed that I'd realized how fortunate I am to live in such a prosperous, beautiful country. Teachers like those kind of revelations. But that wasn't the case. My project is completely, totally, 100 percent selfish. I don't care if anyone reads a word I wrote, because I needed to write down everything for me. In seven weeks I leave for Basic Training in the Air Force, and I'm not even sure I know who I am. The reason I chose an autobiography instead of just some story; is that in writing about myself, I learned more than I could have from years of therapy (which some people might say that I need.) But in truth, this has been an enormous catharsis, a release of everything I've been holding inside for the past seven years. It feels good to be completely honest, without regard to the reaction of everyone else. This project gave me a freedom I'd never experienced even in writing my journals. I was forced to take an honest view of my life, and write about it all- not only the moments which made me look witty, or smart, or funny, or beautiful, but the bad moments, too; the times when I was completely irrational, devastated, and lonely. I could see my reactions to different situations, and the way I handled life. I uncovered characteristics I'd never expected in myself- some good, some bad, all unpredicted.

Here's what I discovered: I'm a raging insomniac who can't eat, sleep, or sit still when I'm stressed. Not being able to package everything into a neat little compartment frustrates me, and I have to overanalyze everything. I pretend to ignore my problems so other people won't talk about them with me, but really I'm very methodical in my efforts to solve them. I try to write down exactly what is wrong and come up with a logical solution. When this doesn't work I majorly stress out and direct my energies towards more productive activities (working out, homework, writing etc.) I tend to be a procrastinator, and put effort into my homework only when I'm in the "mood." In order to get in that motivational mood, I have to think about or see someone whom I admire being hardworking, and I want to follow his/her example. I'm really worried about what people think of me, avoid conflict like the plague, and rarely, if ever, yell at people. I live for moments when I can have a genuine connection with someone, and I can talk about anything without worrying about judgement. I have so many goals in life- what I want to do and who I want to be- but ultimately I think I just want to be happy. When I am old enough, I want to have a close family and husband who cares about the kids, and I want them to grow up in a healthy family environment. I give people less credit than they deserve; so many have been "there" for me when I really needed it, and I didn't realize until later what an effort that must have been for them. As a defense mechanism, I tend to push away people who could possibly be a big part of my life, and search out immaterial faults as an excuse to get away from them. I don't care about grades, except that I don't want people to be dissapointed in me, but generally I put effort into the activities I enjoy or find important. Mostly, I'm just this lost little girl searching for herself in an overwhelming world with endless possibilities. I think the reason I like writing so much is it's something I can control; I create whatever reality it is I want to project, and that's comforting. My autobiography was scary to write because I forced myself to be brutally honest, and I couldn't "cop-out" when faced with something I didn't like. I chose to write about my life as a means of discovering myself, and I discovered that I'm still searching for the real me, and probably will be my entire life.

I owe so much to that amazing teacher, Mrs. Barnett. I never knew my passion for writing until I met her, and she encouraged what little work I did turn in. Everything was so crazy with my homelife, that I rarely, if ever, did homework. That is, until the day she assigned us creative writing journals. In these flimsy three-ring binder's she told us that we were allowed to write whatever we wanted; nothing would be off limits to her. At this announcement the class gaped, literally shocked, at the possibility. She told us that the world's greatest writers had often been censored (Salinger, Hawthorne etc.) and who was she to deprive the world of another fabulous author? Social conventions, she told us, went out the window. Of course, I'm sure many people took advantage of our liberal-minded teacher, but my thoughts focused themselves farther than "what I could get away with." I decided to test her theory; that is, to create my own world. Isn't that what she'd told us? That in writing we could create whatever world we wanted? My sanity that year was saved by writing. I scrawled down countless poems and short stories, essays and descriptions which will never see the inside of a publisher's office. I admit, at first they were shaky. Definitely romantic (a style I can't help adhering to even today), and very surreal. Looking back on those works, it's hard not to laugh at my own naivetee and superficial dreams. But then again, there's a large possibility that I'll one day look back on all this and laugh as well. So I decided to include an excerpt from my creative writing journal, which helped me deal with the loss of my brother (no, he didn't die. If you don't know the story, why are you reading this?). In the story, he's shot in the head, giving him permanent brain damage. Although the character's differ significantly, my brother was the sole inspiration for the brother in my journal. This is a portion of the story I wrote, in which the girl visits him in the hospital.