tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50892951443888552602024-02-08T10:33:05.633-08:00The Fabulous Journey of a Beautiful SoulElizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-29828410191148823132014-07-24T10:34:00.002-07:002014-07-24T10:34:53.097-07:00Forward Thinking<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong><em>Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans.</em></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>- John Lennon</em></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">July 17th; 17 days shy of my 14th anniversary at my employer and the day my position was eliminated. Thinking over the past 14 years, I am in awe of how much has transpired in my life. During that balmy Seattle summer in 2000, I was so excited and full of promise, being out here on my own in the great & beautiful Pacific Northwest. I had accepted the position knowing it would take me 3000 miles away from any family members. I knew no one in Seattle; now 14 years on, I've built a life here with friends and colleagues who fill the role of my extended family.<u></u><u></u></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My employer had been - at times - both my best friend and my worst enemy. It was the longest, most stable relationship I'd had. It kept me awake countless nights & was a comfort to me when needed. It saw me through tough times, and celebrated with me in good times. In short: it was my life, my identity and my support system.<u></u><u></u></span><br />
<u></u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <u></u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My emotions are mixed relief & happiness, with a little sorrow over leaving this part of my life behind. Like any good thing, this must end. When you lose your job, people expect you to be devastated & heartbroken. Upon hearing the news I felt relief; I knew it was time for me to move on and had already mentally prepared myself to do so. I prayed for this…I prayed for substantive change in my life and my prayer was answered. I am ever so grateful and blessed for that. <u></u><u></u></span><br />
<u></u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <u></u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As has been the case all along, my company set me on the right path. In preparing for Act 2 of this screenplay I affectionately call "My Life", I'm once again filled with a sense of promise and hope for a future filled with successful ventures, laughter, and kinship. I don't anticipate looking back; only forward. <u></u> <u></u></span><br />
<u></u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <u></u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Always & forever...forward. <span class="HOEnZb"><span style="color: #888888;"><u></u><u></u></span></span></span>Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-74544595785303621852014-05-28T20:19:00.000-07:002014-05-28T20:19:17.737-07:00MANifestationI've decided to lay it all out there and write out the characteristics I'm looking for in a mate. After all, if I don't verbalize what I'm hoping for, does he really exist in the first place?<br />
<br />
With that, my perfect man must posses the following qualities:<br />
<br />
#1 - He must be a practicing Christian. I've chosen to walk this path & I want my partner to walk with me & believe in the philosophies and teachings of Jesus Christ.<br />
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#2 - He must be loyal and honest. A real man knows a good thing when he has it and will rise up & do anything necessary to stay faithful to the woman he loves.<br />
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#3 - He must be gainfully employed. He doesn't have to be rich; just make enough to pay his bills every month & have enough left over to pick up the tab now & again.<br />
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#4 - He must look to me as a partner but be willing and able to take the lead when necessary. I'm not looking for someone to boss me around; just someone to step up & be a man.<br />
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#5 - He must be hygienically sound and take pride in his appearance. Looks aren't everything but body odor is a deal breaker.<br />
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#6 - He must love kids. And dogs. Who knows if I'm destined to have children, but I want a man who can embrace the children (human & canine) I do have in my life already.<br />
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#7 - He must be family-oriented. Family is blood, but they can also be poison. My perfect mate is good at walking the familial line and maintaining healthy boundaries.<br />
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#8 - He must be intelligent. Not looking specifically for Mensa, but a thirst for knowledge and an affinity for reading are a must.<br />
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Come out, come out wherever you are...Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-19946761214238614402014-04-30T14:42:00.000-07:002014-07-24T10:58:41.258-07:00Soul FullIf the sexual revolution was partly intended to make women feel empowered to embrace their sexual selves, and alleviate the guilt associated with casual sex, then why do my female friends often express remorse after such an encounter? In the process of breaking down a perceived puritanical values system "for the greater good", have we cracked the moral compass to the point where it can not be repaired?<br />
<br />
With freedom comes responsibility; specifically responsibility for ones emotional, spiritual and physical selves. This might make feminists the world over shudder in disgust but perhaps we've gone too far in laying too heavy expectations and unfulfilled promises onto our womenfolk. In the interest of making political and social progress, we've turned off the spiritual switch. Ensuring balance in our lives means nurturing our spirit and soul in some way, shape or form. If women stopped and thought about what they are doing when they lay down with another person out of a strictly physical or emotional need, then they would have an opportunity to think through the potential impact to their spiritual well-being.<br />
<br />
To be clear, this writing is in no way intended to blame, finger point, chastise or "Bible-thump". Just because I'm a woman who recently became a Christian, doesn't mean I'm better than the gal next to me. On the contrary, these are opinions I formed long before taking the proverbial plunge into Jesus' hands. I gave up casual relationships a full year prior to being baptized. And as tempted as I've been since, I know for myself that guilt and remorse are not my happy places; spiritual awareness of self and soul is truly preferred. I believe that every woman (and man for that matter) needs to make those decisions for themselves based on their personal belief system and moral foundation.<br />
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If I could give any bit of advice to my female friends, it would be to really listen to what your spirit and soul are telling you. We talk about the head and the heart all the time, but never about tapping into your spirituality as a decision guide. Do you feel a connection to the other person deep within, to the point where you know without a doubt that person is going to respect and cherish you still, in the bright of day? If not, then I think you have your answer, or at least enough to question the action. Tapping into your spiritual side and heeding to the direction you are intended to go will pay dividends over time. In the end, the choice is truly yours.<br />
<br />Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-25502272254454628592014-02-18T08:56:00.003-08:002014-02-18T08:56:47.521-08:00Gaining at tractionAttraction is a funny beast. Reason dictates that when you are attracted to someone, it's a good thing. You are drawn to that person by a force from deep within, and therefore sense you are (theoretically) in the right place. That being said, reality is often devoid of reason and as we all know from experience, we are often attracted to the wrong person.<br /><br /> You know me...I write a lot about this stuff. Some may think my writing is akin to whining but I like to view it more as an observation of the human condition, and more specifically MY human condition. Relationships are fascinating creatures to me. They take on a pulse of their own from inception and have a very distinct life cycle, regardless of how long or short. Every last one of them - platonic or otherwise - begins with attraction. And when you start mixing in sexual chemistry, that's when things start to go awry.<br /><br /> I have a friend who - when commenting on the unsuccessful dating habits of another friend - used the phrase "not fishing from her own pond." At first I was annoyed at her for being so narrow minded: how dare she insinuate that someone is flawed for being attracted to men that others deem too good for her! <br />
<br />
Then I became Christian and suddenly the phrase took on a whole new meaning. All of a sudden, men I'm attracted to have to meet a whole other set of job requirements in order to get past the first screening. Where I would have settled before, I'm finding myself in a situation where that isn't an option. But that doesn't change the fact that I might still be physically attracted to someone who is not right for me, and frankly - I'm likely not what he is looking for in a date either.<br /><br />Matthew 4:1-11 is about inner struggle and the complications of staying true to oneself. Jesus found the strength within himself to stay on His true path. This is a struggle we all deal with, regardless of faith. Elizabeth, AD is still new to this way of thinking and I find myself conflicted when, on a Saturday night in a packed room surrounded by people I know and admire, I still can't help feeling a little bit lonely. Especially, when I encounter men with whom I would otherwise be coquettish. Then I remember that's the me I left behind, when I stepped into that water on that spring afternoon last year. I made a conscious choice to become Christian, and put my faith in Jesus. When my singledom starts to get me down, I remind myself it's for the Greater Good. I'm in a much better place now than I ever was. My soul has never felt more nurtured, in spite of the fact that my physical being craves attention. Its really about conditioning and remembering why that life was left behind. I don't believe you can control to whom you are attracted, but knowing who you are and embracing your values, can make or break you in the long run.Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-15575701486798642622013-04-15T08:47:00.001-07:002013-04-15T08:58:56.682-07:00The Right StuffWorking in the<a href="http://setlistmusic.com/"> music business</a> and seeing the kinds of women male artists are attracted to, I have often felt a bit awkward as the chick that all the boys want to talk to about business and what-not, but never one they look to for a good time. I've mentioned before: I'm not svelte, I'm a little bit older than the average musician and I'm more...well....life-established than most of the men I encounter on a daily basis. <br />
<br />
There are days when I can feel like a bit of a wallflower, awkward and alone in the back of the club while the other girls are up front making googly eyes at the lead singer.<br />
<br />
And then I see this:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/PN1EFs9XQoc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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<br />
And it's all kinds of right. <br />
<br />
As a fan from "back-in-the-day", I follow a couple of the NKOTBs on Twitter though I've not made the effort to see any of their shows since 1990. I've noted for a long time how appreciative and embracing they are of their fans - women who have followed them around for 20+ years. These women come from all walks of life, and in all shapes and sizes. And the band LOVES THEM! They put their fans up on a pedestal and invite them with open arms into their lives. They honor them at every show, in every town and with every tweet. I can't tell you how utterly refreshing that is....too often it is the other way around, with the artists allowing themselves to be idolized and deified. It's really quite shameful when you think of how the music industry model has changed, and direct interaction with fans is downright imperative to drive sales. Given that most money is made off of touring and merch sales, the last thing an artist should do is keep too much distance between them and their fans. It's easy to download a tune online, but it takes effort and desire to purchase a ticket to a show, let alone follow a band from town-to-town.<br />
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In spite of a long period of downtime, NKOTB has got it figured out. I point to them as an example for the younger artists I work with as I say honor (ALL) your fans. The dividends you receive for years to come are well worth the time. And by dividends, I don't just mean money....there is something to be said for long-term loyalty. Just ask the Blockhead next door!<br />
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<br />Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-10782980588234206532013-03-20T16:35:00.002-07:002013-03-20T16:38:37.707-07:00Loving Love<br />
A lot can happen in a year. Last year this time, I was in a deep emotional
quagmire over a relationship in which I found myself involved that was neither
healthy nor nurturing. I knew that he was taking advantage of me but
couldn't pull myself out of it, in spite of pleading from my closest friends.
It wasn't until I met someone else that I saw what I was doing to myself through his eyes. That
other person turned out not to be a "romantic interest" (much to my chagrin, but in hindsight for the best) but
more the catalyst for me to finally see how following the path I was on was
getting me nowhere fast.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
When I think about where I am today with my outlook on life, it amazes me that the thought of finding someone to spend my
"right now" with has been trumped by thoughts of finding someone with which to
spend my "ever after". I believe that gone are my days of
casual, pretend-relationships where I was fully aware they are short-term in
nature, but yet refused to accept or believe that until they self-combusted. I
think those times when my heart felt broken and busted into tiny shards, it was
because I was most hurt by the person closest to me: myself. <br />
<br />
In my 20s and 30s,
I jumped from one inappropriate man to another even more inappropriate
man, not realizing what sort of damage I was self-inflicting. For this,
I've paid the price: physically and emotionally. The mere thought of how
much time I've wasted makes me a little bit sad, but wallowing on the sins of
the past does nothing to ease the present or set the stage for the future.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
There's a song by the Mowgli's, an energetic and vibrant LA-based band
introduced to me by my equally vibrant sister. The song is called
"San Francisco" & the opening verse says this:<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<em>"I’ve been in love with love <br />
And the idea of something binding us together <br />
You know that love is strong enough"<o:p></o:p></em><br />
<br />
How poignant...to
be in love, with the idea of love. An ideal notion that love conquers all
your woes. Indeed, that was true in my case. I was playing at love in order to
ease whatever ache I was feeling inside. In reality though, I was doing a
disservice to myself. No amount of play-love could cure what ailed me. I
was treating a chronic disease with placebos when what I needed was medicine
for my soul.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
I read something recently in Proverbs 3:3 that stuck out to me:<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<em>"Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write
them on the tablet of your heart."<o:p></o:p></em><br />
<br />
I took that passage to mean Love of God; in turn, Love of Self.
In my view, to love God is to love yourself enough to put complete Faith in Him
and trust that He will guide you down the right path. Don't try and go it
alone, as you may find yourself going down the wrong way on a one-way street,
towards a very grumpy cop. No one wants that.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
If you had asked me a year ago how I felt about God and spirituality, I
would have given you a very honest and academic answer: "I believe in a
higher power, and that my relationship with that power is mine
alone." And although I still believe this to be true, I think that
notion is very shallow and not at all satisfying. Much like the relationships
I've had with all those inappropriate men. Going through this process of redefining what my spirituality means to me has served the very important purpose of redefining what I mean to myself. I am special, in the eyes of the Lord and beyond. I must respect myself in order to find that person who will respect me and treat me well. <br />
<br />
It is only then, that true love will bloom. <br />
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<br />Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-56937839207219953172013-03-18T12:26:00.004-07:002013-03-18T12:26:56.438-07:00Random Thought #4567
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I'll just bury it deep in the back
like I did my feelings…..<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 5;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It's weird I haven't cried very much
at all. I don't know, maybe... maybe you're only allotted a certain amount of
tears per man and I used mine up.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt 21pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 5; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Carrie Bradshaw, SATC the Movie<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Amen, Sister. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-26367278768548928542013-03-18T10:57:00.002-07:002013-03-18T11:59:00.298-07:00Return<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sitting in the café across the street, eyeing people as they
walked through the open doors of the building I had passed 1000 times before, I
could feel a little bit of anxiety building up in my chest and sneaking its way
up my throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why was I so nervous?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used to go to Church all the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not like I was going into a stranger’s
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or was it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Church is,
after all, the Lord’s house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But was He
really a stranger?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aside from the random
wedding, baptism, funeral or Holiday service I had not been a regular
Churchgoer since 1986.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I became a confirmed
Catholic in 1984, and slowly began to pull away from the Church after
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call it teenage rebellion or just
plain apathy, I decided at the time there was no place for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is not to say I didn’t maintain an open
channel to God (you can read my previous blog to get the lowdown on that.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I have decided that at this point in
my life that channel needs to be a two-way tributary; I want to make more room
in my life to give my spiritual beliefs room to grow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want the Lord to be a stranger to me
anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So on a blustery yet sunny Sunday morning I took a deep
breath, gathered my belongings, threw my half-consumed latte into the bin and
made my way across the street and through the open doors, feeling very much
like I used to feel on the first day of school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A myriad of thoughts circled in my head: Will they like me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will I make any friends?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will I know what to do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not sure what I was expecting, but what I saw was kind
of cool: smiling people milling about in the lobby, welcoming folks into the Service,
shaking hands and freely giving hugs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
young woman welcomed me and handed me a pamphlet, which I perused after taking
my seat in the last row.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although I was
game, I was still timid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://www.jesus-is.org/">“Jesus Is____.”</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hmm…haven’t I seen that on the side of a Metro bus?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I looked up just in time to see the band take the
stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They took up the entire stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wait…where’s the altar?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Where’s the pulpit?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so
confused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Downbeat happened at about 9:05.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, downbeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Was I at Church or the Crocodile?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">More confusion set in but I just decided to roll with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Attendees stood up en masse to join in on the festivities;
yes, it was like a party was happening right there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No pomp and circumstance, no procession down
the aisle, no smell of incense wafting in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some
sang along; others reached their hands up towards the ceiling in prayer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From my position on the aisle in the
back row, I could see a petite Asian woman in the front, about my Mom’s age, in
a purple outfit topped with sparkles; arms extended upwards dancing along to
the beat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was so….free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">About the third song in, a youngish guy in a car-length wool
coat, with a hoodie and blue jeans underneath took the stage and introduced
himself as the Campus Pastor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The music
never stopped, but he invited the crowd to take the opportunity to introduce
themselves to each other and welcome visitors into the Church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman next to me smiled and extended her
hand, as did her husband.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gentleman
across the aisle stepped over and shook my hand as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a deep breath and started to relax. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The music continued…these were not traditional Hymns or
prayers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These were foot stomping,
dance-worthy pop songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My confusion
subsided as I started to take everything in and just accept the fact that my
idea of Church to this point, was not in play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most
different was the fact this Church building was just one of three that were
networked together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The officiating Pastor
was actually in another town, but his sermon was broadcast to our
location.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He, at least, was not wearing
a hoodie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">His sermon was fascinating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He preached about <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke 19:1-10&version=NKJV">Luke 19:1-10</a>; Jesus Comes to Zacchaeus’ House.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve read this before, but what I never had
the benefit of was someone teaching me what it meant to <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">me</i></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is something I believe a lot of people
struggle with, regardless of denomination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How does the Bible apply to us in our modern-day lives?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sitting there, listening to the Pastor speak
poetically to the story and its current application was probably the singlemost
enlightening moment I have had on this journey thus far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was enough to make me want to be there,
and more importantly make me want to return there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When the service was over, I looked at the clock and astonished
at how much time had passed – it was already 10:30AM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I walked out of the building an hour and a
half after entering, a smile crept across my face for I knew I would be back
again very soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-73081941262923708132013-03-12T06:33:00.000-07:002013-03-12T10:29:11.142-07:00Perceiving Reality?"Only in quiet waters things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world." - Hans Margolius<br />
<br />They say perception is 9/10 reality. I think that may have been true before the advent of Facebook and Twitter, but nowadays, perception is truly what you make of it. You can say what you want in the virtual world, create whatever personae you wish to be, but that may not be a reflection of true life. How many times do you hear tales of online scams and internet paramours taking advantage of innocent and desperate people? I myself was once almost a victim of such a scam, but fortunately realized I was being snookered before any money changed hands. It's so easy to get taken in by the perception that the person on the other end of the virtual wire has intentions that are good and pure. <br />
<br />I hate to tell you, but as altruistic as Bill Gates is, he's not just handing out money to random strangers for passing on an email to their ten closest friends. He would be broke several times over by now if that were truly the case. I work in a place where I often receive complaints from recipients of these phishing mails...mostly from concerned citizens who know it's a scam, but occasionally from hapless souls who are desperate for the money, and want so badly for it to be true. Those are the ones I feel for as they will likely fall prey to evil intentions.<br />
<br />In this modern age of social networking, we are flooded with information to which we may not have had access before (i.e. what are your friends having for dinner; where are they having dinner; and with whom are they having dinner?). This trove of information in turn, begs the question: <br />
<br />Why?<br />
<br />Why is that information important to know? Is it a natural human desire for attention? Perhaps in some cases. I know I'll tag myself in places or with people as I know it will strike up a conversation or invite some sort of reaction from others. I also do it out of boredom, particularly if I'm alone and have no one to converse with face to face. The internet is a great place to reach out to your community (real or imagined) and feel connected. It's that connection with other people that keeps us engaged with life. It's why I refresh my Facebook feed 39 times a day. It's why I scroll through Twitter when I'm bored at work. It's even why I write this blog: to reach out and touch someone. <br />
<br />On the flip side though...it's still a bunch of noise. Loud, staticky noise. Which bring me to the quote at the top of this blog:<br />
<br />"Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world."<br />
<br />With so much noise these days, can we really expect that everything we perceive is reality? We are constantly inundated with information at a speed with which our feeble minds may not be able to accurately process. I know for myself, I tend to over-analyze the more information I have thrown at me, and that my perception of reality occasionally does not match up to the real deal. My view can easily get distorted and until I have clarity, I can believe that which may not be true. And being the intelligent person I am, I tell myself not to read too much into things that I see online, but my instinct to believe that which I see often overpowers common sense. And I know I'm not alone.. we have all been guilty of that. It's just the way we are programmed as humans. We want to believe what we see; the good, the bad and the ugly, because if we can't rely on visual perception what can we rely on? As a species, we have not evolved extra-sensory perception, so we have no choice but to initially believe what we see. We need to learn to condition ourselves to allow common sense to step in and ask the question: "Is it real?"<br />
<br />That's not to say we should go around doubting everything and not trusting people. On the contrary, one thing the internet had also done is allow us to peak into people's lives and see what they are about. Some tend to use Facebook and Twitter as a sounding board, an avenue to vent, which is fine as long as you don't go too far with it. But realizing you may be looking at - or even through - a filter will go a long way to quiet the noise in your mind.<br />
<br />
<br /><br />
.
Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-91195391362459371412013-03-11T15:03:00.002-07:002013-03-11T15:03:10.795-07:00Light the World
<br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="_MailOriginal"><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";">Barring
your soul in a public and open forum is daunting at best. It stirs up
many emotions that you didn't realize you had...a mix of relief, joy, sadness
and anger, mixed with a teeny bit of self-loathing and regret. I
experienced this phenomenon yesterday when I decided to publish three different
blogs, exposing heart and soul (literally) after reaching an emotional
saturation point and needing an outlet for my thoughts. <o:p></o:p></span></a><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bookmark: _MailOriginal;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";">I'm
hot and cold with my writing...sometimes it flows like a mighty river after a
spring thaw; other times it is as hard to come by as rain in the midst of a desert
drought. Clearly, I am in need of wellies these days!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bookmark: _MailOriginal;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";">Anytime
you put yourself out there, there is a risk it will change peoples' perception
of you. At a certain point though, you have to learn not to care. In my quest
for personal growth and healing, I am learning that to keep my faith strong
inside, I have to take risks and allow my light to shine outward. Matthew
5:16 states “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Let your <marker>light so
shine before men, that they may see your good <marker>works, and glorify our
Father which is in heaven.</marker></marker></i>”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bookmark: _MailOriginal;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";">Maybe
I'm misinterpreting the meaning, but for me I've felt for a long time as if
I've kept a piece of myself inside, buried deep in the back of my closet,
running perilously close to not seeing the light of day again. One day, I
decided I'd had enough of diving through mountains of clothes, bags of scarfs
and boxes of purses, just to find the one, bright shiny item I needed for a
special occasion. Tossing the excess baggage aside, I organized and
catalogued every keep-worthy piece until the closet shone bright and new, a joy
to behold!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bookmark: _MailOriginal;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";">And
then I looked over and realized the toss pile is stacked high to the ceiling,
with no place to call home. If I don't discard these items, I run the risk of
burying my precious shiny pieces again. Likewise, if I don't deal with
what is keeping my light from shining, it will once again be buried deep in the
back. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bookmark: _MailOriginal;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";">Where
do I go from here? <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-bookmark: _MailOriginal;"><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";">And
so the journey continues...</span></span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-34377205198006098702013-03-10T16:46:00.002-07:002013-03-11T10:50:12.084-07:00Living Faith<em>But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, 1 Peter 3:15</em><br />
<br />
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. <br />
<br />
Thinking about work, about love, about family. Mostly though, I've been thinking about God and my relationship with Him.<br />
<br />
In times of strife, one often turns to God for help. Help in the form of guidance, protection, or a miracle. Having been baptized and confirmed Catholic, I grew up with a strong sense of spirituality, but had an omnipresent hesitation towards the Religion. In my teen years, I started to pull away from the Church - largely out of rebellion towards my parents, who were trying to force me down that path even after my Confirmation, but I saw no point in it. Eventually they gave up trying, and I gave up caring. <br />
<br />
As I got older, I began to realize that some of my hesitation was directed toward what I felt was the hypocritical a-la-carte approach to the Faith, by many Catholics who called themselves "practicing" but in reality were picking and choosing what was convenient for them. Midnight Mass was in the same bucket as baking Christmas cookies and decorating the tree - a nice Christmas tradition to do with the kids every year and an excuse to show off the Christmas dresses. <br />
<br />
I'm sorry, but what about every other Sunday in the year? One thing I know is that to be in the Lord's favor you need to live, breath and set example through your Faith and the Tenants of that Faith as directed by Church leaders. Going to Church once a year didnt cut it; as a Catholic, I was (at a minimum) expected to go to Mass and take Communion on a weekly basis (more often during Lent) and serve Penance monthly. My youthful observation that others didnt take that seriously didnt sit well with me but rather than leading by example, I walked away altogether. <br />
<br />
That being said...I still maintained a strong sense of spirituality that serves me till today. Case in point:<br />
<br />
I was 24 and at one of the lowest points in my life when I went hiking one night at sunset to the top of Camelback Mountain in Phoenix. I was two years out of college and had moved cross-country to work in the exciting world of politics. It's a long story but I lost that job after my boss was indicted on embezzlement charges and didnt think I had any other prospects. My first inclination was to run home to mom and dad. I was all set to go, but I kept feeling this sense of failure.<br />
<br />
I got to the top of the mountain and looked out over the Valley and the tears started flowing. I honestly didnt know what to do. I looked up at the sky, with the stars coming out, and said out loud "Lord, please help me. Please guide me to the right decision. I'm putting my life in your hands because I dont know what else to do." It was getting late so I hiked back down the mountain and went home. The next morning I woke up feeling this strong sense of peace and the knowledge that I couldnt leave; I had to stay. Long story short, I went out and found myself gainful employment, and remained in Phoenix for three more years until leaving under my own steam. <br />
<br />
Since then, my Faith has seen me through....a fact not lost on me but one that I havent embraced until recently. <br />
<br />
At the suggestion of a friend, I have been reading scripture; specifically Proverbs. I've started at 1 and am currently on 18. It's taking me awhile to get through each one as I find myself thirsty for spiritual knowledge and reading them over and again so I can absorb as much of the meaning as possible. In these days of personal "complications", I am finding comfort in the Word. I am finding a sense of warmth and security I hadnt had before. And I am finding my way Home. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-63295461426449811192013-03-10T16:17:00.004-07:002013-03-11T10:32:35.204-07:00Closure FoundFurther to my previous blog, I thought I would take a moment to document a fortunate episode that happened to me on a recent trip to London. <br />
<br />
About 7 years ago, I was in a relationship with R. We were prepared for marriage and spending the rest of our lives together. He was my first real love, and "adult relationship." I loved him and he loved me. We were compatible on so many different levels, and incompatible on others. I let the latter get the best of me, and opted to wait on Ever After. Unfortunately, that meant R - a citizen of the UK - would have to return to England after his US visa ran out. We agreed it wouldnt be a long separation; he could still visit me, and I him, and within a year we would get it sorted so we could be together. Alas, the physical distance between us quickly led to emotional distance and after a brief phone call one Saturday afternoon, we parted ways. We reached out to each other on occasion, but as in many other similar scenarios we eventually stopped corresponding altogether.<br />
<br />
R was never far from my mind though. I thought of him often, and regarded him as the "one who got away." It was during one of those "I wonder whatever happened to..." moments early one Spring morning that curiosity got the best of me and I sought out his Facebook page. R was never a frequent social networker so it hadnt struck me as odd that I hadnt seen him online in awhile. The first post I saw was from his friend, and left me in shock:<br />
<br />
"<span class="userContent">Praying your soul rests in peace and our memories of you stay alive in our thoughts and hearts forever. You will be missed."</span><br />
<span class="userContent"></span><br />
<span class="userContent">What??</span><br />
<span class="userContent"></span><br />
<span class="userContent">No...it couldnt be!</span><br />
<span class="userContent"></span><br />
<span class="userContent">I read on:</span><br />
<br />
"<span class="userContent">I'm in shock and deeply saddened. You were a shining star in this world and will be missed by many."</span><br />
<span class="userContent"></span><br />
<span class="userContent">"You will be missed dearly man. God Bless your soul"</span><br />
<span class="userContent"></span><br />
<span class="userContent">"<span class="userContent">Rest in Peace"</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">He was...dead? How could that happen?! </span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">Shock faded to tears and I immediately got up and called my sister. She didnt know what to say; she hadnt seen or heard anything about R in 4 years...what could she say but "I'm sorry, Beth."</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">I needed answers...but he and I didnt have any mutual friends in common anymore. I went through his Friends list and found a name I recognized as a family friend whom he had spoken of often. I sent her a message, explaining who I was and asked her what had happened. to him She responded almost immediately and explained that he had passed on due to some sort of infection. She had more information she wanted to share with me over the phone, but we never did connect. I just continued on...living my life, occasionally succumbing to moments of sadness, usually manifesting in a deep sigh and a temporary fleeting thought "I wonder what would have happened had we stayed together? Would I be a widow? Would he still be alive had I been around to take care of him?" I'm smart enough to know his passing was not my fault, but still...I wondered.</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">Jump ahead two years to last month: I traveled to London to join my brother and his family on their vacation from Italy. R's family friend saw mention of my trip on Facebook and asked if we could meet. I said yes; that would be lovely. </span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">We went for lunch near Hampstead Heath - a quaint British pub that had a photo of the Queen Mum on the wall, pulling a pint. We exchanged stories about R...how she came to know him and his family, and watched him grow from a young boy. She shared with me about how he used to talk about me...how she knew he was quite fond of me. And she mentioned how it seemed to her that after our split, he never seemed to find anyone else he could love as he loved me.</span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">When I heard this, I didnt know what to think. I was confused. Should I feel guilty? Should I have worked harder to make the relationship survive? </span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">Then I realized...this is what closure looks like. This is an opportunity for me to finally close the chapter on that part of my life and to open myself up to other possibilities. Of course, I've often felt I was open (reference prior blog) but I dont think I really was, which I realize in hindsight may explain some of my bad luck (and bad choices) with men. </span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">I came home from that trip feeling elated...feeling that finally I could seize whatever opportunity presented itself, and that maybe I can just own up to my feelings towards a certain someone. Unfortunately, my timing was off and it was too late to have that conversation with him. I was devastated, and am still upset about the situation, but what can I do?</span></span><span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"> </span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">I believe in my heart that if God sees fit, he will set me on the path to finding another true love. As they say, when the Lord closes one door, he opens another. And I am anxiously waiting to walk through. </span></span><br />
<br />Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-7807463895576883982013-03-10T15:36:00.002-07:002013-03-11T10:32:09.954-07:00Inconvenient One"You're too good for me."<br />
<br />
That's what he said. Immediately after declaring he was in love with me, he finished his thought with that bombshell. There was no "but" conjoining the two sentences; making them two separate - polar opposite - powerful statements. <br />
<br />
I couldn't even begin to understand what he meant. But I knew this much was true: once again, I was hitting a brick wall at 100MPH. <br />
<br />
Over the years, I've often wondered how much abuse one heart can take: how many times a heart can be broken and expected to heal. The scenario above isn't the most recent but it's one of the more poignant. I've heard everything; mostly ridiculous excuses from men who are too chicken shit to admit they aren't brave enough to take me on. I'm the inconvenient one. The one with the "good energy", "the big heart" or "the sharp mind"; but I'm never the pretty one, the one who gets the guy she wants. Someone actually said to me not long ago: "Only skinny girls get the guys they want." <br />
<br />
Ouch. <br />
<br />
Let's face it...I will *never* be skinny. I don't want to be skinny. Skinny wouldn't look good on my larger frame. I'm descended from peasants and poor nobility; we don't do skinny in my family line (unless you are a fortunate recipient of the recessive "princess" gene, like my sister). In any event, admittedly, I could be in better shape and trust me...I'm trying to get there. But in the meantime, I look in the mirror and I don't see an ugly face. I don't see someone who isn't worthy of love (not that anyone is unworthy....everyone should have someone who loves them). I have a pretty good sense of style, Im smart and can maintain a witty banter. Why am I constantly left out in the cold?<br />
<br />
<div>
The answer should be obvious but I'm still unwilling to accept it: I'm swimming in the wrong pool. The problem is the guys I like are younger, a little left of center and still care about having a good time and not rolling it up after sunset. The only problem with those guys is they want the pretty girls who make them look good. Being older and more established, I may as well be walking around with a big "Danger" sign around my neck. If you want to be with me, you have to be willing to jump into the deep end of the pool. I'm ready to get married and have children. That can be repellent for some younger men who may not be in such a rush.<br />
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
In the most recent scenario, I can only blame myself for my broken heart. It's not his fault. He didnt know. I was too scared to tell him because I cared for him too much and didnt want to risk losing him from my life. And now...even if I wanted to, it would be too late. He's found someone else, and she isnt me. She bears zero resemblance to me, and makes me think even entertaining for a nanosecond he would have ever reciprocated my feelings was just foolish and trivial on my part. I want to channel the anger and resentment I feel right at him, but I can't. It's all on me this time. And that hurts more than anything. Which begs the obvious question....what am I going to do about it? </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
"<strong><em>Some may say, I'm wishing my days away</em></strong>"</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
That song is playing on the overhead right now. Maybe that's true...wishing, hoping and praying that my ideal will come along and rescue me. The truth is, if I cant rescue myself, what point is there to any of it?</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
And so the personal growth continues...</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
###</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
The song has ended and this one has taken its place:</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
"<strong><em>Someday. Someway. Maybe I'll understand you.</em></strong>"</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Yes, Self, maybe I will understand you someday. Until then, let's just muddle through with a beat-up heart, shaky legs and fortitude strong enough to make it to tomorrow. A brand new day indeed. </div>
<div>
</div>
<br />
<br />Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-79698801173503888542012-05-24T08:51:00.001-07:002012-05-24T08:53:21.833-07:00Circle of Trust<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s early morning hours at work and I am here, my brain still sleepy waiting for the caffeine to kick in so I can attack my day full-force.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Carpe Diem and all that shite!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I find my mind wandering and thinking back on a conversation I had yesterday with a colleague about the concept of the “Circle of Trust”: having a sufficient comfort level with the folks in your immediate circle to know that what you say or do within that circle stays there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my dayjob, the Circle of Trust is paramount to my work, as I have been given charge of some highly sensitive data.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It almost goes without saying (though people still do – ALL THE TIME), that what is discussed within the confines of a closed room must stay there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In my other life, it’s a little trickier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I encounter people of varying degrees of professionalism and maturity, much of which depends on age and lifestyle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that with my immediate colleagues, my trust level is high as they have an understanding of what can happen when certain bits of information filter out to the masses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However there are others whom I work with directly or indirectly who still take the approach that some stories are just fodder for idle gossip even though it would be obvious to most others they shouldn’t be spread about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was recently burned by this very mindset: someone whom I thought I could trust flapped his gums about an incident involving myself and another person, and before I knew it the story was all over town and coming back to me in the most awkward way possible – via the other party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not cool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But still…I gave pause and pondered the situation for what it was: the offending gossiper is young and inexperienced with a holdover schoolboy mentality where he speaks before he thinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I gave him the benefit of the doubt and told him that he can say what he wants, but in the future he needs to be mindful of where his words go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My only hope is that he will think twice the next time he wants to tell stories about people he knows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just like I now think twice about saying anything to him that has any remote chance of coming back to bite me in the arse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the end of the day, it was a win-win: valuable lessons learned all around!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The music community is small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People know each other or at least have heard of each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a false sense of security in a business where the person next to you will step right over you to get to that next rung in the ladder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the higher you go, the further you fall and you might need a soft landing at some point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Best not to piss anyone off in the process. My .02.</span></span></div>Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-55300552901795324262012-05-21T11:05:00.001-07:002012-05-23T04:05:35.864-07:00Broken.<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This blog post is going to get a little personal. I’ve been struggling with it the past few days...do I dare expose myself to this extent, and at what cost? Writing is supposed to be a cathartic and expressive process that allows the author to get what they are feeling down on paper and to leverage life experience for the sake of creativity. Much like a songwriter uses music and lyrics to express themselves and to cleanse themselves of pain, a writer uses words. It is for this reason that I made the decision to share this with you – my few, yet honored readers. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I recently had a conversation with a kind-hearted gentleman – a man of the Church, one who instantly puts strangers at ease with his delicate candor and jovial nature. I’m not exactly a stranger to this man as I’m friendly with his children, but even so – he doesn’t really know me from Eve. Yet somehow I found myself engaged in a conversation with him on a random Friday night about broken people: people who have a hard time figuring out where their place in the world is because they have been hurt and abused by life. I found myself admitting to this man that I didn’t think I would ever find the one to marry. He said to me (and I’m paraphrasing here) “Elizabeth, in a way everyone is broken. When you meet the right one, you will know and God will make it happen.”</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone is broken. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now - I freely admit that I am broken. My heart shattered into a trillion pieces time and again, only to fuse itself back together, but weakened over the course of much heartache and disappointment. I could sit here and tick off the number of people who have wronged me over the years yet somehow that seems counterproductive. And I know there are other people out there who are just as broken, and even more broken than I am. I never once suffered at the hands of an abuser, nor has my life been anything less than blessed and fortunate. I know that my past experiences have – in a way – made me stronger and wiser and I really shouldn’t feel too sorry for myself. But it still isn’t easy. It’s downright difficult sometimes to get out of bed with a smile, to be optimistic and hope that one day I will meet that person who will not only love me for me, but who will appreciate and respect me as well. And someone who can make me stop looking over my shoulder to see who else is coming up from behind because my needs are not being met. So far, that person has eluded me. I thought I found him once, but that wasn’t meant to be and now he is gone forever.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">True confession: I have feelings for someone. I won’t say who that someone is and he may never realize who he is for I’m too scared to tell him, nor do I think those feelings would ever be reciprocated. That’s what happens when you are broken: you don’t trust your own heart as it has betrayed you so often. You don’t trust your instincts. You become jaded and pessimistic. My only hope is that one day, I will meet someone that will enable me to overcome those fears, and heal my heart to wholeness again. I may be jaded, but I’m still a hopeless romantic. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love and devotion all the way, you know?</span>Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-2345006081620361322012-04-14T01:07:00.000-07:002012-04-14T01:07:11.915-07:00A little dose of doubt before bed12:50AM<br />
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Just got in from watching three of Seattle’s finest bands perform in one of the city’s best music venues. I knew half the people in that room tonight. I see them out at shows, at mixers, on Facebook. Together, we are working toward a common goal – that is to bring forth a change to the local music scene and put Seattle on the map as a true “City of Music”.<br />
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Sometimes it’s overwhelming. The people, the sounds, the egos. Times like now, where I come in late at night tired in body but alive in mind; I can’t settle in for my brain won’t let me until I get down what I am feeling. I feel like my universe is shifting somewhat. I’m moving away from a dreary corporate life, where I am simply a drone among many, to an existence that demands far greater emotional fortitude and wherewithal than I’ve ever been prepared to offer in the past. <br />
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Can I do this? <br />
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I suppose everyone has those moments where you wonder if you made the right decision…wonder if by raising your hand to volunteer for the mission was your best laid plan. Doubt is a natural emotion after all and there is no shame in feeling doubtful. Having said all that, I do suppose I am ready for this; I am ready to tackle the world and call it my own. <br />
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Yes, I can do this. <br />
<br />Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-26454578123191043742012-04-11T15:59:00.000-07:002012-04-11T16:06:56.407-07:00Building a More Perfect Union<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In my line of work, I hear A LOT of music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I have to step back and give myself a break from it as it tends to all run together and sound the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having recently come off a self-imposed hiatus from listening to new music, one of the first places I turned was a band called <a href="http://benunion.com/">Ben Union</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Led by a cat called Ben this band first came onto my radar about a year and a half ago when the teenage daughter of a friend of mine visiting from Alaska mentioned she wanted to see this show up on the Hill by a band I had never heard of before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She waxed on with “OMG! Ben is such a hottie!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled appreciatively and said if she needed anyone to take her, I would be happy to as I clearly remember a time *not so long ago* when I wanted to go to shows as a teenager and my Pop-eschewing parents wouldn’t take me.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">(Remember the <a href="http://nkotb.com/">NKOTB</a> incident, Mother??)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyway, during the ensuing year I heard noise here and there about the band, but didn’t pay it much attention as I was still trying to absorb what was happening around me, attempting to learn what I could about the whole Scene by osmosis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A chance meeting with Ben a couple weeks ago prompted me to download the band’s album, titled <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/ben-union/id411466893">This Blessed Union, Volume 1</a></i></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been told by a mutual friend that it seemed Ben had run the gamut of life’s difficulties just by the tone set in his lyrics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the time I thought “what songwriter hasn’t portrayed that in his music?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that I have heard the album in its entirety several times over, I see what she means.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lyrics are honest and hard-hitting, giving the listener a peek into the complicated soul of their writer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Poignantly expressive, Ben is just an honest person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having spent a little bit of time with him the past month I know him to be a spiritual man with a deep respect for his faith and beliefs; outgoing and friendly, he has a calm about him that can belie the energetic passion expressed in his work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve not seen Ben Union perform live, but I understand they are all brilliant showmen who leave the audience in a sticky tizzy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My only cause for hesitation after listening to the album was the lyrics might be little too deep to appeal to the commercial masses. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What works in the Northwest, may not fly at the Mall of America.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a reason the Katy Perrys and Justin Biebers of the world are so successful…the songs are about as deep as the shallow candy dish in which they are presented to their audience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are troubled times and people are looking for escape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a fine line to walk as a pop songwriter….how far to the edge do you go before you fall off?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even so, the musicianship is clearly present on all the tracks and provides a catchy, arse-shaking platform for the words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I hear that Volume 2 is in the works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a resourceful and brilliant management <a href="http://setlistmusic.com/artist-management/">team</a> behind the band, fortifying a talent and tenacity that comes so naturally I’m looking forward to hearing and seeing what is coming Ben Union’s way in the not-so-distant future. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Side bar - if you are interested in seeing Ben Union live and in person, there's a show this Saturday at the <a href="http://highdiveseattle.com/calendar.asp">High Dive</a>. Prepare to get sweaty.</span></div>Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-31171916640614402982012-03-11T15:56:00.004-07:002012-03-11T15:58:27.168-07:00Battle of the Sexes<font face=Calibri><br />
<p class=MsoNormal style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><font face=Calibri><font size=4>Whoever said Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus was a bit too optimistic when it comes to the distance dividing the two genders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </SPAN>This comes to mind as I just had a brief exchange yesterday regarding a female friend who was recently in an "engagement" with another female involving their mutual male friend. Said male friend summarily dismissed the argument as "you women are so competitive with each other".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> In this case, the man in question held his ground on that point and continued to wash his hands of the matter, even after the other party tried to pull him into the tussle. Eventually the matter resolved itself and neither women talk to each other anymore. But the guy...well, maybe he would have been better served to mediate the situation rather than stick his head in the sand as he is ultimately the one who now has to dance back and forth between his two friends. </SPAN></FONT></FONT></P><p class=MsoNormal style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><font face=Calibri size=4><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">I think this scenario just serves to further demonstrate how most women will approach these tete-a-tete interactions on an immediate emotional level, always reacting based on how the other party is making them feel. Likewise, when women see their friends being "attacked" by a third party, they will always react from an emotional angle and immediately come to the defense of their friend. In reverse, most men tend to evaluate a situation and wait it out, rather than reacting from an emotional place. Which is the better way? I really don't know. There is a saying that "Cooler Heads Always Prevail", but is that truly the case? I think there is something to be said for instinct and intuition; your initial reaction will almost always be correct. In my experience, if something (or someone) doesn't pass the sniff test, it's likely there is something rotten at the core. </SPAN></FONT></P><p class=MsoNormal style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><font face=Calibri size=4><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">Maybe neither side is right. Chinese philosophy touts the existence of ying/yang: the two fundamental principles definining the balance and behavior of the feminine (yin) and masculine (yang) in people and in nature. These differences keep life interesting and unpredictable. It could very well be this is the driving force behind the continuing survival of the human race... this constant "battle" fuels the fire within us and compels us towards each other. We get off on the challenge of overcoming obstacles and striving towards successful relationships - not just intimate relationships as not all couples are male/female, but how we relate to everyone in every type of situation we encounter in our day-to-day lives. </SPAN></FONT></P><p class=MsoNormal style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt"><font size=4><font face=Calibri><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">At the end of the day, m</SPAN></FONT><font face=Calibri><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">aybe we just weren't meant to understand each other, but rather to just accept our differences and learn to coexist with each other. </SPAN></FONT></FONT></P></FONT>Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-23145423909549502762012-03-10T11:25:00.002-08:002012-03-10T11:51:47.500-08:00Rock the Ages"Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."<br />
- Mark Twain <br />
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Upon entering my fourth decade a year and a quarter ago, I thought back on a time when I was a teenager and 40 just seemed so...OLD...to me. Back then I thought for sure by the time I was 40 I'd be married, with a couple kids, living in New Hampshire a stone's throw away from my aged parents. Now at 41, I'm single, childless and living 3000 miles away from parents who really aren't that aged. Clearly, God has another plan for me.<br />
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I hung out for the first time with a new friend yesterday. He is a dapper, young, up-and-coming musician with a bright smile and charming disposition. After a brief meeting the previous Saturday, we decided to get together for a getting-to-know-you beer and game of pool. Animated chitchat ensued and the subject eventually came around to age. After trying to laughingly divert him, I admitted I was 41. He nearly fell down in shock. You see, good genes and a lifelong obsession with moisturizing & SPF 50 have served me well. I don't look my age, nor do I act my age. When I ask people how old they think I am, I get guesses anywhere from 27-34. <br />
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It's ironic that when I was younger I used to loathe my baby face. I wanted to look as mature as my more sophisticated classmates. My mother used to tell me "Honey, don't worry. Someday you will appreciate that beautiful baby face!" Naturally, I thought she was crazy because moms have to say that stuff, but alas...Mother was right. Again.<br />
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(Side bar - I laugh now when I think back on an incident that happened with my mom in Target a few years ago. We were walking through the store joking about something, and I made a snarky comment that prompted a nearby woman to turn to my mother and say "I have a teenager myself at home, so I know what you are going through!". I was 35 at the time...)<br />
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In any event, my new friend shared with me he was feeling a little uncomfortable about turning 26. I mulled that over for a couple seconds and replied that I recalled that time in my 20s when I felt the same way....like time was slipping away from me and getting older was just a scary proposition. However, with each passing year I am more accepting of my age. I don't believe that I need to lie about the fact that I am 41, even if I don't look the part, just because of the perception that 40+ is "old".<br />
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And I certainly don't feel 41, which in itself can be a bit of a struggle. Speaking to my boss a couple years ago when I was still 30-something, he told me that things happen when you turn 40; people start taking you more seriously and have greater expectations of you. I have to say he was right. Particularly in my corporate life, I feel a certain amount of pressure to conform to how others think I should be acting and doing. It's certainly put me in a different place than I was just a few short years ago. That's not to say I am not up for the task, but it requires an adjustment in thinking, and how I approach my work. That being said, I absolutely refuse to cave completely to what I view as unrealistic expectations rooted in outdated societal standards.<br />
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At the end of the day, age really is nothing but a number. More importantly, how you choose to live your life is what really matters. Think young, be young. That's how it goes.Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-169140509658947812011-11-23T08:55:00.000-08:002011-11-23T08:55:24.320-08:00Quality over QuantityI am not so vain as to not realize that my following is minimal. I have a handful of people who actually read this blog; fewer than 400 Facebook friends; and fewer than that on my Twitter roster. I've never been one to strive to increase my following on any of my personal accounts, as I dont really feel the need to feed my ego that much. After all, I am not *that* interesting. When I blog, it's usually when I have something so pressing on the brain, that I need an outlet to express myself. I approach my tweets and posts with a similar mindset: sometimes I have a lot to say, sometimes I dont. I never post anything simply for the sake of posting. <br />
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All that being said, I do manage several business-related social networking accounts, and there it is a little different. I strive to increase our following in all those virtual places to further promote those projects. I look for ways to entice people to Follow and Like us. I attend workshops, mixers and conferences, all for the sake of increasing our fanbase. However, I still believe that Quality of the Content I am putting out there is of the utmost importance. Crappy content is still just that - crappy. I hold myself, and the others I work with, to a very high bar with respect to the product and content we put out into the ether as it is a reflection of who we are. <br />
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More and more, I am noticing some "influential tweeters" (or ITs as I call them) are relying on the assistance of Tweetbots: software programs designed to not only troll for new followers, but actually tweet "motivational quotes" on their behalf - 3 times every hour, 24 hours a day. <br />
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Wow. That's, like, the very definition of lazy. <br />
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Here's how it works:<br />
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Say you have an IT with 200,000 followers on Twitter, but her Facebook fan page only has about 300 fans. As Twitter allows Tweetbots to seek out accounts based on keyword searches and auto follow them, and the IT has the Auto-Tweet program installed, the increased and consistent content with exponentially increase the number of possible hits for the bots and Bam! Her following skyrockets overnight! Facebook does not allow for that. A user has to manually seek out and "Like" the fan page. By my calculations in this scenario, allowing for a percentage of Twitter followers actually interested in reading motivational quotes 3 times every hour, this IT only has about 500 people who take her seriously and actually care about what she have to say. <br />
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Frankly it's a little bit insulting. These ITs point to their following as an achievement, when they really havent done anything to earn that recognition. As someone working at a grassroots level, building a community and trying to inspire those around them to take the high road while keeping the quality high in the process, watching these virtual chirpers gain recognition for their large followings is deflating.<br />
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The Internet is a wonderful invention that educates, informs and unites us together. However, it has also cursed us with an inability to tell what's real from what is fake. I encourage the few of you who are actually reading this blog to take stock of what you put out there. It's a representation of who you are as a person, and if all you are doing is quoting other people and relying on software programs to define your legacy, then how real is your contribution?Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-33008354950161387942011-09-05T08:53:00.000-07:002011-09-05T08:59:31.579-07:00MetaphorIn Seattle, the very mention of <a href="http://www.pioneersquare.org/">Pioneer Square</a> (“P2”) for some people conjures up images of needle exchanges and homeless men lined up outside the many missions that call the neighborhood home. For hipsters and art appreciators, the numerous galleries and antique shops in this area of town comprises an artistic hamlet-within-a-city, with one of the most vibrant art districts in the country. History buffs like the area for the not-so-distant past role it played in the Alaska Gold Rush. For sports fans, P2 is a gateway to our city’s three major sports teams, with the <a href="http://www.king5.com/sports/Thiel-Its-the-Clink-but-it-could-be-worse-124381479.html">Clink</a> and Safeco Field mere steps away; it also serves as an after-party venue for those wishing to celebrate or, more often than not in Seattle, drown their sorrows after a game. <br />
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In any event, I have come to regard P2 as a colorful and quirky, culturally significant place I call home. I’m comfortable here. Even with all the homeless and the tweekers, I have rarely felt my safety to be compromised and feel absolutely fine walking around after dark with my dog. But I’m also constantly on my guard when walking after daylight hours as there is still that seedy element that populates any urban area. And lest I forget and let my guard down, I am continuously reminded of the existence of the dark side that will occasionally rear its ugly head and demand attention. <br />
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The most recent reminder happened on Friday night: Seahawks Pre-Season Game Night. Because of the neighborhood’s proximity to the Stadiums, I’ve learned to tolerate the presence of the Sports Fans. Seahawks fans though, are particularly challenging. They do dumb stuff – like have tailgate parties at 7AM, and then leave their trash for the seagulls to pick through. They dump there extinguished charcoal briskets in the weeds where the neighborhood dogs go to take care of business, forcing owners to walk over ash. They get drunk early in the day, and then spend the rest of the time terrorizing an otherwise peaceful area with their wild debauchery. Not that I’m opposed to debauchery; I just prefer my debauchery be done in the dark confines of seedy bars and not out on the street in the light of day. <br />
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I could hear of lot of things happening down on the street Friday night, but due to the angle of my apartment, I wasn’t able to see much. Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, so I decided to take my dog for a walk. Sure enough, the streets were littered with trash, empty bottles and the subsequent vomit. <br />
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Gross. <br />
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But that was actually not the most disturbing sight I saw. I happened across an abandoned purse in a lot under the Viaduct. The bag was innocuous enough, sitting in a mess of broken glass as it clearly had been the unwitting victim in a smash-and-grab altercation. Upon closer inspection I realized this purse had been violated – raped and pillaged; forced to give up its most valuable possession. The discarded bits – a novel by Nicolas Sparks, makeup, receipts, grocery lists – were strewn about with little regard for the value they held for the rightful owner. Gone, of course, was the wallet and any identifying information it presumeably contained. <br />
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I felt a sense of mourning for the demise of the bag. Or rather what the bag represented – a life lived by a woman who maintained neatly-written grocery lists of chicken, eggs, granola and cottage cheese. A woman who likes to read real-books. A woman who keeps old receipts forever and a day for no particular reason. A woman who carried a faux-Juicy bag because she was too frugal for the real-deal. <br />
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A woman kind of like me – minus the faux-Juicy. <br />
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For me, it was a reminder that no one is immune from the bad things in life. It can strike at any point and leave you sprawled out on the streets with your entrails hanging out for the world to see. You just have to be prepared to pick up the pieces when it happens.Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-84783114145146719732011-08-25T12:55:00.000-07:002011-08-25T12:55:10.906-07:00Lesson LearnedBoundaries.<br />
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Everyone has their limit: the threshold they personally set for how much they will tolerate, and how far they will let others take advantage before they start pushing back and reacting in anger to a situation in which they placed themselves. For some of us, that threshold is very high, which potentially puts us in a situation where we can be taken advantage of by our colleagues and peers. For me personally, the result of this higher threshold has meant many a sleepless night and worrisome hours. But up until now, that’s been my albatross to bear; a burden I felt I could shoulder because it was just easier than tackling the underlying confidence issues that have plagued me since I was a child. That is until two days ago when I got hit where it really counted: my pocketbook.<br />
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After meeting with my new manager, I was concerned about my review score – a score which was advocated for by my old manager. I went back to the source and was told in no uncertain terms I needed to reduce the friction between myself and my co-worker if I wanted to move up. <br />
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WHAT?? Are you KIDDING ME, Boss Man?? It takes two to tango, buddy, and I am not leading this dance!<br />
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He assured me he provided the same feedback to her, and that she had a lot she needed to work on related to her interpersonal relationships within the team as well. But *I* really needed to evaluate my role in our relationship, and learn to take the high road. He’d seen me do it with other people…why couldn’t I do it with her?<br />
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OK – FINE! I guess he is right.<br />
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As I was contemplating the feedback, I began to realize this situation could have been avoided had I simply set the appropriate boundaries with this person, and then stood my ground and not allow her to cross into that emotional dangerzone where I allowed her to get the best of me. I’m a feisty Irish-Italian-American with a festering temper; by allowing her to cross those lines that should have been reinforced with emotional barbed wire, I enabled her to trip the landmine and let my distaste and impatience of her annoying little personality quirks get the best of me, and be put on display for the world to see. And now I have to pay the price. Literally.<br />
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At 40, I’ve been in the professional workforce for 18 years. I really should know better. And believe me – the message has been received loud and clear. My unwillingness to take the high road here cost me about $4K in bonus money. That’s a tangible amount…and a proverbial brick wall that I hit going 60MPH. I guess it’s time to buckle up (or down, as the case may be) and learn how to cut people like that off at the pass. To not do so, would be doing only myself a disservice, and frankly, that’s too heavy a burden to carry.<br />
Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-40132522425305231912011-06-02T21:09:00.000-07:002011-06-02T21:32:19.907-07:0025 Things You Didn't Know About MeSince I started back at the gym, I've been reading the trashy magazines people leave behind to make the time go faster while on the treadmill. One of these rags has a regular column entitled "25 Things You Didnt Know About Me", featuring a different celebrity revealing previously unknown facts about themselves every week. For lack of anything else to write, I thought I would give it a go. Here's my take:<br /><br />1. I went to 14 schools before finally graduating from James Pace High School in Brownsville, TX. <br /><br />2. I lived on four continents before I was 21, including Asia, Central America, Africa and North America. <br /><br />3. I am the eldest daughter in a family of five. <br /><br />4. I'm a proud Irish-English-Italian-Dutch American.<br /><br />5. I suffered from chronic insomnia and the occasional migraine while in my last job. I quit that job after having to go to the ER.<br /><br />6. I had seven operations on my ears by the time I was 12; the last operation nearly killed me as I had an allergic reaction to the anethesia and stopped breathing. <br /><br />7. I was born in New Hampshire but do not consider in home even though my extended family lives there. <br /><br />8. I have a tattoo of a phoenix on my lower back and will soon have a Celtic cross between my shoulder blades (once I can find someone to hold my hand!). <br /><br />9. I love my nieces and nephews to pieces even if they drive me mad with their unstoppable energy! <br /><br />10. I was a closet Menudo fan when I was in high school actually met my favorite Menudo member two years ago and hung out with him in his bedroom! <br /><br />11. I am very close to my siblings (and sibling-in-law). <br /><br />12. I majored in poli sci and minored in Art History (even tho I now wish it was the other way around). <br /><br />13. I tried to be a vegetarian once and discovered an unfortunate intolerance to soy products. <br /><br />14. I am passionate about protecting the rights of the illegal, tired, poor and hungry masses. <br /><br />15. I didn’t really kiss a boy until I was 18, nor did I hold a boy's hand until I was 17. I was a late bloomer. <br /><br />16. I *heart* Peanut Butter M&Ms and Cherry Twizzlers.<br /><br />17. I didn’t go to my senior prom because I had chicken pox.<br /><br />18. I love brown-rice sushi. <br /><br />19. If I could live anywhere in the world, it would be London. I fantasize about living among the Brits. <br /><br />20. I am a closet pop princess. I secretly envy Christina and Pink. I pity Britney. <br /><br />21. I am a hopeless romantic, in spite of my "bitterness". In Sex and the City terms, I am 80% Miranda, 20% Carrie - bitter and neurotic! A truly happy combination indeed! <br /><br />22. I published my first magazine article two years ago and my first guest blog this year. <br /><br />23. I love the smell of maple sugar boiling over an open wood fire, outside in the New England frost. Even though I don't want to live there. <br /><br />24. I accidentally locked my cat in the refrigerator for 8 hours when he was a kitten! <br /><br />25. I love the dark.Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-1784315166369860122011-05-31T22:47:00.000-07:002011-05-31T23:58:24.967-07:00Earth, Baby Oh, Baby!Life is funny. It takes you down a long, windy path and occasionally leads you off-course by forcing you to take a detour you didn’t anticipate, but that could lead you to a happy surprise. Kinda like the detour I took a month ago when I signed up to help a friend manage his two - yes TWO - companies in addition to my (very full-)time day job at Wonderland. Albeit, this is a decision I made with both eyes open, knowing full well what I was getting into. Still - having three full-time gigs is for the birds. Then again, I like birds. Such tenacious creatures, always plucking at breadcrumbs and mocking my poor dog from the telephone wires.<br /><br />I digress. <br /><br />It was on this detour that I found myself last week in a crowded bar, mixing and mingling with others in my assumed career field, attempting to evangelize my company(ies) so we can make money. This is done all in the vain hope that I can one day quit my day job and become a Music Mogul. It was in this crowded bar that I made the acquaintance of D, a quiet and observant fellow sitting across the table from me. <br /><br />He smiled at me; I smiled at him. <br /><br />I may have noticed his lovely blue-green eyes. <br /><br />Or not. <br /><br />OK, fine...I did! <br /><br />*blush* <br /><br />We attempted to make conversation above the noisy din, but had a few false starts as neither of us appeared to be adept at reading lips. As the evening wore on and it quieted down to a dull roar, we talked about many things including his career as an archeologist-slash-musician-slash-artist, and my pathetic quest to become E. Diddy. <br /><br />When he found out the latter, D was really keen to tell me about his brother's band - <a href="http://earthbabymusic.com/">Earth, Baby</a>. Now - I’ve found in my one month of Music Moguling that I can expect this to happen a lot. People I know for 10 minutes want to tell me all about their favorite band and why they are the best band in the world! But D is kinda cute and, more importantly - he seemed to have a brain - so I listened with genuine interest. After all, we are in scouting mode for our label, so why not? I gave D my card and asked him to get in touch with me if he wanted to pass on the band’s CD. Which he did. With this, I was most impressed as most people dont typically bother with the follow-through.<br /><br />I do my best listening in my car, driving to and from work, or heading out on errands. I find I can concentrate mostly on the music when I don’t have any other distractions…well, that is except for ensuring the 18-wheeler coasting a little too close to my car doesn’t clip me and put me in a tailspin at 80mph!<br /><br />So...there I was in my car coming back from the lovely little town of Arlington (don’t ask) and listening to the Earth, Baby CD - Yellow House - trying to place the familiar sound. I don’t usually like drawing comparisons between bands as that always feels like I am somehow devaluing one band's original compositions. But on the other hand, there is something to be said for drawing inspiration from those who influence your formative years. At one point, while listening to Track 7 (sorry – my car is old and doesn’t have the fancy sound system that tells you the name of song you are listening to), it came to me! Earth, Baby is like this modern-day hybrid of the Beach Boys, the Beatles and Blink-182 - all rolled into one happy little package! Yellow House is a really fun album and very well produced. There aren’t many bands that can bridge a generation gap, but I really think Earth, Baby can potentially have a wide appeal across many demographics. Their shtick is young and fresh but with a developed, full sound that clearly draws inspiration from pop legends that came before them, and served as their teachers and virtual mentors. <br /><br />If you want to know of what I speak, there's a really cool video on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G534J7rzPbY">YouTube</a>. Note the gratuitous booty shot at 23 seconds. <br /> <br />All that being said, I'd really like to hear what their next offering sounds like. I want to know how they have grown in the two years since releasing Yellow House. D tells me they are coming out with a new album soon and I, for one, am waiting in anticipation.Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089295144388855260.post-58172369643839369392011-05-16T23:21:00.000-07:002011-05-31T22:47:47.126-07:00RegretWhen he left 6 years ago, I was happy. It had been a rough year – trying to adjust to living with someone who didn’t live the same way I did. The disorganization, the mess…the constant struggle to stay on top of it all. We got along great, but there were challenges as we struggled to figure things out and get used to each other. But I loved him with all my heart. And he loved me. I know he loved me. That being said, when the time came for us to fish or cut bait, we cut the line. <br /><br />In spite of the years and the physical distance between us, I still kept him close in my heart. He was supposed to be the one that, when all was said and done, I could run back to. I realize now that none other was good enough to fill that space he left. And just when I was getting ready to reach out to him after all those years and tell him so, I realized I was too late. He is gone. Forever. And he will never know how I really felt...Elizabeth O'Keefehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01667997591830429388noreply@blogger.com0