The other day I realized that I've been blogging for 2 years ... man, time sure does fly.
When I started, I didn't have much of an intention for the whole thing. Maria had been blogging for a while and she thought that "blog-as multi-media art form"/"self-expression work-out" would be a natural for me, and once I started looking around on the blogosphere (amazingly, i hadn't really been aware of it before ...), and saw what other people were doing, I knew she was right.
I figured it would be a fun exercise/written "performance"/soap box ... but I expected it'd be pretty anonymous. I didn't tell many 
people I was doing it at first, just a handful of good buds, and while I knew it was the internet and therefore hugely public, I felt I was talking in a loud room to some close friends, and I didn't really expect to be heard by anybody who wasn't close.
Then Maria put a link to my blog on hers when I "went live," and several total strangers came by to visit. It was a hoot to get comments from people I'd never met saying they liked what I wrote or they got a kick out of my style and/or perspective. I quickly forgot about my expected anonymity and 
let my ego swim around in the delightful encouragement and attention. (big fish ... teeny, tiny little pond.)
Once the initial rush of visitors and comments mellowed, I was still having a complete blast; the ability to write whatever I felt like and get that instant gratification from "publishing" the whatever-it-was-I-felt-like ... inserting links to cool websites (attempting to turn the world on to my own interest in whacked out grooveness, obscure clips from old television shows and other fun links)? Too much fun. And in between playing with the form and referencing pop culture trivia, I'd often weave in thoughts about deepiosity in varying degrees, whinge about stuff that gets me incensed (mostly W), and share bits of personal stuff here and there (can't help myself, it's in my nate-cha).
In these two years I've really come to love the dialogue that evolves from reader feedback/comments on and off-line; the comments and conversations have been the most delightful, unexpected by-product of the whole experiment. It's not so much about feeling like I'm so marvelous and my writing is so fabulous (although i never turn down a bit of worship ...) ... it's more that I've found one more way to connect with people and "connection addict" that I am, I love that.
And still, there have been times when I'd write something personal/vulnerable, or goofy/warped/'out-there' and I'd hesitate and second guess myself about posting it. What's kinda strange is that I'll often post things on here that have never come up with people I talk to all the time, so I wonder why am I willing to be revealing about my schtuff in a way that's so public? And in the face of possible humiliation and/or embarrassment too? Perfect example: a while back I had a post that I actually took down a day or two after publishing it (and left it 'down' for over two weeks) because I felt strange putting such 'woo woo' stuff out there. Eventually I re-published it because I was annoyed by my own wimpiness; I re-posted in spite of the feeling ... or maybe in defiance of it. Besides, most of the time, I convince myself that my readership consists of about 10 -12 regulars and a handful of "occassional's," so my feelings of "vulnerability" are simply the result of ego gone wild.
Then, pretty recently - over a period of a month or so - I learned that a couple of people who I knew (but not really well) had discovered my blog and had been reading. Then, soon after that, a friend explained how I could look on my blog management page and see how often my stuff had been viewed. Once I figured out how to do it I saw numbers that were higher than I would have expected to see. (nothing dramatic - most days average i average about 11 hits. but that means that among the days where no one visits, there are also a few where there are 20 and 30 hits; i figured the most i'd see was 10 - 12. wild.) (but i digress)
All this info wigged me out a little. Good god, what have I written? Who else is reading that I don't know about? Is there anything I should have been less overt about? Are there any old posts that'll come back to haunt me? What sort of self-indulgent drivel have I been tossing out for the world to see?
So during my recent unplanned hiatus I gave some thought to taking a more conscious break from the blog, but in the end, there are too many things I enjoy about the practice - the dialogue that springs up with folks who read; the chance to exercise the writing/creativity muscle in a way that's so 
different from my personal writing practice or the longer term writing stuff I do; learning more about what matters to me, and what I do with all that ... (like e.m. forster once mused: "how can i know what i think till i see what i say?") - and so I'll keep playing.
So happy blog-versary to me ... and to you (whoever you are) for reading, and keeping me company on the ride.
Now that the word's out in The New Yorker that John Waters is a Universal Life Church Rev, everyone's going to want to join the order, just for the absolute hipster-ness of it all.
Since my "coming out," I've learned of a few others who are ULC ministers - and am loving the company I'm in; hearing that John Waters (aka "the pope of trash") is part of the "order" is just icing on the cake. Love that he charges $7 for his services. Cash. Exact change.
It takes every kind of people to make the world go 'round. Love that.
Dancer/Skater/Cutie posted a recent exhibition skate to YouTube the other day. (baseball boy is the camera-man, by the way; not too shabby!) Since I get folks asking about how she's doing since the accident from time to time, I thought you might get a kick out of it. She choreographed it to Start Wearing Purple by this wild punky-ish band called Gogol Bordello that makes me want to rock out whenever I hear it (and yes, it's on the iPod). Clearly, it makes D/S/C wanna rock out too. (the rink had a problem with the sound at the beginning, so if you want to hear the tune full out, look/listen here.)
It also reminds me of that poem called Warning ("when i am an old woman I shall wear purple") ... how it stakes a claim for more playing outside the lines and embracing life without restraint. Given what D/S/C went through, and how there's never a guarantee anyway, maybe, as the song says: we should just start wearing purple now.
A couple of years ago my friend Wes was asked by some good friends of his if he'd become a minister so he could perform their wedding. The couple had learned of a church in California where anybody could get ordained just by signing up on-line and they thought their ceremony would be more intimate and special if someone they cared about did the honors, instead of some stranger who, by the power vested in them, could make it official.
And what an inspired choice they made too, cause Wes was a natural. In his day job, he's an arts administrator, but he brings the 'inner rev' to everything he does, so it was not a huge surprise to hear that he got asked to officiate another wedding soon after. I can't remember exactly what the connection was, but I think a member of the bridal party or a friend of the family had just become engaged and they liked what he did with the ceremony and blahblahblah, "Do you think you could do mine too?" and the next thing you know the word began to spread about Rev Wes. It's been few years now and he's performed at least a half a dozen weddings (if not more - he officiated the nupt's of former theater colleague/bud/blogger mickeyG's in january ...). He loves doing it, and the folks he does it for seem to love it too.
Now, I've been hearing about Wes's adventures in Rev-ing for a few years now, and from the very first time he told me about it, I wanted to do it too. But I didn't, and I didn't tell anybody either; I was embarrassed by the desire. Not sure why exactly, cause it wasn't like it was a big honkin' deal, anyone could do it; you didn't need to study or 'qualify' in any way at all, all you needed was an internet connection and an email address.
My friend Hugh did it this past summer in order to facilitate a friend's daughter's wedding (and while he enjoyed the experience, i have a feeling that this one ceremony may wind up being the beginning and end of his "ministry"). I've also started seeing on-line non-denominational ministers show up in (of all places) The New York Times wedding announcements. (yes, admit it; i read the nytimes wedding announcements. not all the time, and never all of them. but if i've got a stretch of time on a lazy sunday i will; so fascinating to get a snapshot into this big moment in people's lives.)
Lately when I peek in on these announcements, I've noticed a trend. In between the Rabbis, Fathers, Reverends, Clerks and Judges, there are a lot more mentions of people becoming non-denominational ministers for the purpose of this one particular wedding. ("jayne slatkin/joe smith/chip rippington III, a friend of the couple's, became a non-denominational minster to officiate the wedding ...")
So clearly lots of other people were doing it. Why then oh why couldn't I?
Not sure actually. Time went by (as it does) and I'd hear about Wes having lunch with another new couple to discuss plans for their ceremony, and I'd get all envious. Eventually I started coming out to a couple of friends about my interest, and while I got nothing but positive feedback (even from my two friends who are presbyterian ministers), I'd still do nothing but simmer with the idea in a back-burner sort of way.
Slowly, the reason behind my reluctance started to dawn on me: no one had asked me to get ordained to facilitate a specific wedding - as it seemed everyone else I knew of (or read about in the nytimes) had done - I simply wanted to; I thought it would be fun and an honor, and I thought I'd be good at it. That's it. My interest felt secret and decadent, and at the same time it felt almost like an intuition ... like it was something I was supposed to do, and that felt just a little silly, self indulgent, and - pardon the unavoidable pun - sacrilegious.
Luckily, it finally dawned on me that maybe it was OK for me to do it because I didn't take it lightly; I treated it with reverence ... and at the same time, the irreverent in me fuckin' LOVES the fact that anybody can do it. All you have to do is sign up online, I mean, come on ... that's a hoot! I love that you could just click here and do it as a laugh because you CAN. I love the egalitarian nature of it ... (is this how those elvis impersonators got legal so they could marry people i wonder ...?); I love that someone like Hugh can get ordained to officiate his friend's daughter's wedding - and will probably never do it again; or like Wes, you do it in order to officiate one friend's wedding and discover that you've fallen into a side business that feels more like a side "calling." Or maybe, like me, you do it because you think it would be fun and an honor even though there's no one lining up to have you facilitate their wedding ... yet. (if you get ordained, they will come ...)
So, on the 6th of November of oh-6, I took the plunge "just because." I went to the site, clicked a couple of times, typed in my name and my email address, and clicked 'send.' (and then had a little candle lighting ritual, of course ...)
The next day I got the email:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is to confirm that
DEBORAH COOPERMAN
has been ordained as a minister of the
Universal Life Church, Modesto, California.
Date of Ordination: 11/7/2006
by Kevin Andrews, Pastor
www.ulc.net
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your request for ordination has been processed, and you are now an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church in Modesto, California! Please record the above date of ordination for your records, as you may need this information in the future to fill out the various forms of the clergy.
Now, I won't be calling myself a minister - even though that's what they call it - largely because it rankles the nice Jewish girl in me, but also because it just doesn't seem like the right name for what I'd like to do with it. I'd like to find another word, but at the moment the only thing that comes to mind is "celebrant" and that sounds a little too airy-fairy even for me. But whatever it's called, I'm really glad there's a place (in my beloved and progressive former home of california) where it's possible for anyone (ME!) to legally sign/file the papers required to make relationships "official" in the eyes of the government. Being with people in the highs and lows of their lives is one of my favorite things ever, and I hope I'm going to get lots of opportunities to help mark those times.
Amazingly (but maybe not), there's one more bit to this story: about a month after I made it official on-line, my friend Shel and his newly affianced B asked me if I'd be willing to do the honors for their wedding in April. :) We had our first chat about what they want to do and I already have two poems picked out that I think would be really good for their ceremony. And ever since they asked, Shel has been addressing emails to me as "Rev Deb" ... it cracks me up. (and i like it too in a warped but honored sorta way!) A side-business and calling for me too perhaps? (i have a feeling ...) (what fun, what fun!)
white space
~ I took the above photos last summer at the beach on the same day ... it was a happenin' day for weddings!
white space
~ And semi-related to all this: today NJ officially became the 3rd state in the US to offer civil unions to gay couples (a step in the right direction, if not the whole magillia, i say) ... many reasons to celebrate.
white space
~ When I watched Barak Obama give the Keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention in '04, I sat on my couch inspired and energized, and said out-loud: "This guy's going to be President one day."
And now we're one step closer. And I, for one, am all in. I've heard plenty of comments from a wide variety of sources on why he can't win and why the country isn't ready for him, but I shall continue using The Force to make it so: This guy's going to be President one day. Obama in '08.
~ I thought I'd lost my phone today. Well, I did lose it - for about 20 minutes. Turns out it had fallen out of my pocket in the car and when I retraced my steps I found it on the driver's seat floor. But for those twenty minutes? Complete panic. For this connect-a-holic, there is nothing more frightening than being without a means for connection. I no longer have a land-line, so without my cell? ... oh, horrors ... I don't even want to think about it.
Is there a 12-step program for this? CPA? (cell phone-aholics anonymous?)
But no problem, no problem at all, I could quit any time I want to.
~ I had one of my writing groups in my home yesterday; it had been a long time since I'd had one. I'd lost momentum after TGFKAS and I split up and I moved in w/LMD; the first few months after the split, I took an intentional break - I just needed some time to chill out and re-group personally - and then when the new job started, it got harder and harder to overcome the built up inertia. And even though I still write for the blog with semi-regularity, and in my own journal daily, there's something so empowering about writing (and listening to other's writing) in a supportive and safe space.
And yesterday I was reminded (again) why I do the groups. It's not because I'm trying to build a business (which is what i used to think when i was booking several groups/month and they were one of the 'cornerstones' of the biz), now I do it because it's joyful and delicious to spill out on the page and discover things you didn't know you thought until you let your mind and your pen wander. It's amazing to see what giving permission to just BE does to women who are not sure they can write. To be able to give/get encouragement - not just for writing, but for the way you express yourself - is a huge gift. It's eye opening to see how unique each person's writing can be, and it's my honor and delight to create the space for others (and myself) to do that.
Now that it's no longer about building my business, but about doing something I love and want to keep doing cause I love it, there's this new level of non-attachment to recruiting lots of people to come. (and yet, lots of people did ...) And by the time everyone had left the house (many stayed just to talk and drink more coffee and nosh on bagels after we stopped writing), I was all warm and syrupy-high on the good vibe. And it's still hanging on ... yum.
Won't be having a session next month (i've got a busy, busy couple of weeks in march due to some work-related commitments), but will have one again in April. Can't hardly wait.
~ Many have followed the saga of Dancer/Skater/Cutie's accident this past summer ... if so, you'll enjoy her triumphant return to the ice in this YouTube video from an exhibition she did last weekend. Many who were watching that day knew what a big deal this was (she had quite a 'fan club' in attendance) - the announcer even went beyong the usual: "next up is such and such who is skating to blahblahblah" - instead, he welcomed her "back to the rink," which is so sweet. You can hear an indrawn breath when she does a jump at the beginning (she's not doing many; suz says the docs have advised that she go easy with them for a while). And the look on her face as she finishes, and then as she starts to skate off the ice? Hard for me to watch it all without getting choked up. After spending months in a wheelchair and encountering set back after set back, complication on complication, she's skating again ... it's a happy, happy thing to see. (and knowing how easily it could have gone another way, it's a double blessing.)
~ My friend MB (who i wrote about a little over a year ago), has released her first CD. She proves that it's never too late to take a stab at following a dream. And the title track speaks to the longing to get beyond the fears that might keep you from taking a leap towards your hearts desire (and trust me, it's not simple or sappy). Each song on the debut is thoughtful, folky rock that would make a nice addition to your iPod shuffle ... (go buy it!). :)
Waiting to Fly is the name of the CD, but MB waits no longer; she is flyin'. (way to go girlene!)
~ A nice reminder that I'm not the only one who is challenged by the idea of infinity. I recently watched the warped and brilliant This is Spinal Tap again. When asked by a journalist if the farewell tour was really going to be the end of the band, Michael McKean's character says: I don't really think that the end can be assessed as of itself as being the end. Because what does the end feel like? It's like saying - when you try to extrapolate the end of the universe - you say: if the universe is indeed infinite, then how - what does that mean? How far is all the way, and then if it stops, what's stopping it, and what's behind what's stopping it? So, what's the end, you know - is my question to you.
My question exactly.
~ Enjoying another year with the new view of Channukah. You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
white space
(hm; maybe this post is not so "randomly tossed" after all ... miracles, dreams, and the infinite go pretty well together ... ) (yum)
I have been careful not to write how I feel about my job. For one, I never know who is reading my blog and could make life a living hell when they find out that I don't really like my job and am writing about it on the internet ... and two, I don't like giving a whole lot of energy to whinging about my job. But if you're a regular-ish reader, you could probably tell that I didn't like it much anyway.
I also haven't said anything about how I was looking for another job, cause again, I never know who is reading the blog and could make my life a living hell if they found out that - not only did I not like my job and was writing about it on the internet, but I was also planning to leave, and as soon as humanly possible. (sidebar thought: there's really nothing wrong with the organization that i've been working for; they do work that really needs to be done in the world ... it's just that the job/organization has not been a great fit for my talent, gifts and interests ...)
And for that reason, I didn't want to just leap AWAY from that job. Leaping away is kinda how I got into the gig in the first place. I was exhausted and SO over running my own business, that I decided to look for a job - any job - that could pay me a regular salary, give me health insurance and benefits like paid holidays and paid "sick days" (something those of us who do the solopreneur thing never get ...). And so I did just that. I took "any job." Oh, there were things to recommend it, but if I was being really honest with myself, not enough. The culture of the organization was not the sort that I'm naturally attracted to, and I probably knew that from the start, but I just wanted to get out of my home office and show up and do a job that would get me a paycheck every two weeks.
And that I did.
But I was not happy. I was making money, but I was not happy.
And so I decided that I was not going to just leap into some other "any job" (out of the frying pan, into the fire, as mom used to say ...) instead, I was going to really take a look at myself and what I wanted and valued most about work (a paycheck is certainly important, but if we all just worked for a paycheck and were satisfied with that, there would be no grumbling about mondays ever ...). I was determined to find SOMETHING that used my talents and gifts; something that centered around a product or cause that I was passionate about. And one that paid well. And had benefits. And paid health insurance. And paid vacations. And a cool office culture.
Yes, I know, that's a tall order.
But guess what? Methinks I've found it.
As of next month, I'm going to be in charge of marketing and public relations for an organization that I have had some association with for nearly 20 years - since the early days when I first started working in professional theater administration. The company is a non-profit service organization that supports the work of professional Equity theaters in NJ ... promoting theater arts, culture, arts education, arts accessibility and (although this is not in their mission statement, i think it's inherent in the work they do) tolerance and acceptance of differences in our communities/the world.
When I worked in theater in Joisey back in the 80s and 90s, this organization was invaluable to the companies that I worked for - it helped us pool our limited resources (of the money and sweat variety) to create group advertising and ticketing programs, arts education programs and ... a skillion other great services that made theater more accessible to everyone. Even when I stopped working in the industry, I kept a lot of my connections to the community because I'd made some great life-long friends through my work in the theater, and I never stopped loving the art form, it's just that life took me in a different direction for a variety of reasons.
It was through one of these old connections that I learned of this opportunity. From the start I thought that it would be the perfect job for me, but I knew that there would be a lot of competition for the position - the organization is well respected, and I figured I'd be one of many potentially qualified candidates. Still, throughout the process, I kept thinking: "this is my job ... it was made for me" ... and even when I'd wander off into mental fantasy-land to try to imagine myself recovering from the emotional devastation of not getting the job (do you see why i like theater? i'm such a drama queen ...) ... perhaps starting to imagine myself on the phone with the man who would be my boss and hearing him tell me that they "decided to go another way; X had a little more experience ..." I would stop myself; I wasn't going to give that scenario any energy, no sir. Sure, I knew that there was no guarantee that I'd get the gig, but I wasn't going to "prepare" for it. If I had to face it, I would. But I put my mental energy on imagining the positive outcome ... and I also enlisted friends all over the country to send good vibes and use the force in support of this outcome. And sure enough, it happened. (yahoo!)
The day that I got the good news, LMD's boyfriend said: "Enjoy this time; you are on the way out at the old job, and there are no responsibilities at the new one yet." And this is true ... it's kind of fun to let go of the attachment to outcomes at the old job - to say: "YEA! I don't have to go to another board meeting again ... I don't have to invest my time or energy in X program (that i have always 
thought was a losing proposition, but the bosses/board wouldn't let it go) ever again," and to not be holding the bag for any projects at the new gig yet.
But at the same time, I'm really excited to get started and dig in at the new job. I know there's going to be a lot of work there, but I'd rather work hard at something that gets me jazzed - among people I enjoy - than do the uphill battle that I was doing at the (still current, but soon to be) old job on a daily basis.
And now it's countdown time ... I gave notice at the old gig yesterday, and I'll be starting the new gig in a little less than three weeks ... color me happy.
I have never completely understood the fascination that (a large percentage of) my half of the species seems to have with shoes. You've got Imelda Marcos at one and the spectrum, the Sex and the City women in the middle, my mother coming in somewhere behind them, and then way way down at the other end of that spectrum - not quite so far as those who wear sneakers or weejuns all year round - there's me.
It's not that I hate shoes; I appreciate the use of a great pump worn with silky black stockings and a short black dress to create a little sass and impact now and then ... (what fun that is) ... but most of the time, I'd rather be comfortable. The problem is, comfortable and fashionable are often two diametrically opposed concepts.
And here's another thing: I don't like shopping much. I'm not a browser, I'm more a kamikaze kind of shopper. If I know what I need, I go in, scan and weed things out fast, and then move on.
Actually, that's not entirely true ... I enjoy browsing in book stores. Depending on the mood I can putter for hours in a housewares, or cool guy card/gift stores (not your basic hallmark store), music, and handmade craft stores. (d.i.y. craft stores too).
But clothes and shoe shopping? I can't stand it ... so I avoid it.
And so, it turns out that in the winter time, my "shoe wardrobe" pretty much consists of my favorite boots that I bought when I lived in Australia, and in the summer I wear whatever is in the closet - which, in most cases, are old-and-not-in-very-good-shape shoes. But since I haven't been particularly inspired by the stuff in shoe stores in the last few years, (and remember, i hate shopping anyway), I've been in high avoidance mode around getting anything new. So I walk around like one of those people on "What Not to Wear" ... with a half decent outfit that looks like crap because I'm wearing what my mother would have called "clod hopper's" (ugly clunky shoes). Because rather than spend money on shoes that are uncomfortable and ugly at worst, and a-fashion-compromise-for-too-much-money at best, I figure I'll wear the worn out clod hoppers for a while longer.
But, the other day when I was driving home from work there was an accident on the only stretch of "retail hell" that I travel. So rather than crawl along in what looked to be a long wait, I noticed a shoe store in the shopping plaza right next to me suddenly thought: I should go in and take a look around. As I'm sure you're getting by now, this is NOT something that usually runs through my mind; I'd usually pick a traffic jam over shoe shopping, but I thought perhaps my mother was reaching out from the cosmic soup (as i often think she does) ... not to say, as she usually would, some version of "carpe diem," but rather: "Get rid of the clod hoppers already!"
And so, with a force such as Mom and the Cosmic Soup to reckon with - even if they were just talking about shoe shopping - I decided to go inside.
I did my usual scan-scan-scan-stop-look, move-along-scan-scan-scan method and thought, "Well, at least it's passing the time instead of crawling along in traffic ..." and as I neared the end of the inventory something caught my eye and I stopped.
Before me was a pair of sneakerish sandals - or sandalish sneakers - and they looked comfortable and funky ... and kinda feminine even. And then I thought: "They're hip-kid-fashion ..." and for a second there I almost dismissed them and listened to that voice as it continued: "Keep walking Cooperman, you are not their target demographic."
But I am wise in the ways of my internal editor, and no longer listen to that attempt to contain me and my passion/joy/fun, so I decided to (cross-my-fingers) and see if they had one in my size.
This is not always do-able since I wear anything from a size 9 - 10 shoe. (women, you know what this means and men [i don't think there are that many men who read the blog anyway - but most of them i know in my "real" life] and they could all care less about these details ... "get on with it," they're probably saying, "blahblahblah ginger.") (and lets's face it, the post is already long as it is ...)
So ... where was I? Oh yes, I rarely get attached to a shoe I like, cause they often don't have them in my size anyway. But (praise yoda) they had this one in a 9. And, not only were they adorable, they were comfortable. (remember those annoying easy spirit shoe commercials? "looks like a pump ... feels like a sneaker ..." ? i'm sorry, but they looked like a pump and they felt like a pump. a more-comfortable-than-your-average-pump perhaps, but a pump just the same.) These felt like a sneaker ... only better. I couldn't believe my good fortune. I bought them and have worn them for the last two days absolutely delighted with my purchase. (it almost calls to mind that old feeling i used to get as a kid when i got new shoes for the first day of school and wore them feeling extra special because the shoes were bright and new.)
I just can't believe I'm this excited about shoes, but I am, and tonight I actually googled the manufacturer's website (oh yes, they are definitely catering to a younger crowd than i, but who cares?) and discovered that that this company has lots of cool shoes ... and most of them have that comfy sneaker-like sole. I think I'm going to buy a few more like them in various colors.
What's happening to me? Is this what the Sex and the City girls felt like when they found the perfect Manolo Blahnik's? Maybe it's freedom, spring and happy feet ... and maybe it's another version of that "carpe diem" message from the cosmic soup (with a little help from mom) after all.
