False friends are like our shadow, keeping close to us while we walk in the sunshine, but leaving us the instant we cross into the shade.

~ John Christian Bovee 1820-1904)

It’s very hard to be insecure.  Worrying about every word, every look, every gesture, every nuance.  It gets tiring and emotionally overwhelming.

I’ve had many relationships, both female and male, that caused me to feel insecure.  The situation seemed unsteady, or perhaps I didn’t fully understand their position.  My unease usually led to more problems.  People tend to like confidence in other people.  They don’t have a whole lot of sympathy for those of us who are worried all of the time, or who assume the worst.  The irony is, I dislike that quality.  I appreciate optimism and confidence in others.  Sometimes it just seems hard to practice what I preach.

Words can move people, can motivate people, can break people…but they can’t do anything without the power we give them.  I can write all day long, but if I’ve no ink in my pen, if I’ve no keys on my keyboard, it doesn’t mean a whole lot.  Sometimes we get caught up in words that mean nothing.  They sound good, sometimes great, but in retrospect we often realize that there was no weight there, no substance to the sound.  How many times have you said something you didn’t mean?  We do it all of the time.  But I’m beginning to see that the best way to be is to have conviction behind all of your words.  Otherwise, why even say them?

I have always been a person who thirsts for kindness and shows of affection.  You would think I’d never been held as a child.  (I was.)  I don’t understand where it comes from, I just know that it has caused me a lot of problems over the years.  People who have selfish motives can utter the sweetest phrase and I am swept away.  I believe them.  Why?  I guess because I want to.  I want to believe that all of the kind things said are intended and sincere.  The bad you can keep, but the good is something I cling to.  Sometimes it bothers me.  It makes me feel very needy.  Not an attractive quality.

I know a man whose wife adores him.  I mean the woman literally lives and breathes for him.  People often say things like that when trying to be dramatic, but in her case it’s the truth.  He has done things for her that no one else ever cared to, and he has helped her become a stronger, healthier, more vibrant person.  This is the kind of man you usually read about…you rarely meet him.  Despite his obvious love, she has quite often found herself feeling emotionally vulnerable and needy when it comes to compliments, shows of affection, of kindness.  Her husband leads a very busy life and quite often has a lot on his mind.  In those moments, when life is hectic and his mind is heavy, she worries that he doesn’t see her as he once did.  That his passion for her has worn away.  It’s not an easy subject to discuss, so she has sometimes behaved in ways that are contrary to her better nature.  The thing is, I know him better than she does.  He loves her completely and fully.  He does everything in his power to be everything he can be for her.  Sometimes it’s not easy for him.  He has his own burdens to bear, in great part for her.  I wish I could explain to her that if she just accepts on faith that someday soon he will feel like himself again, he will feel even better about things because of her understanding.  Her uncertainty is unfounded.

Who knows what makes us feel the way we do sometimes…emotions are strange things.  They can bring out unattractive qualities, selfish qualities.  They can bring out beauty and love and compassion.  I have to work on that myself.  I can’t ask anyone to do it for me.  I have to believe in the good I am shown, and know that great things are unfolding for my family and I.

Today my husband and I went for a hike through the woods.  It didn’t start out that way, but rising water and missing track markers resulted in a long and steep adventure.

I love to be outdoors most of the time.  I’ve never been a fan of excessive heat or humidity, but beyond that I really enjoy being outside.  It tends to calm me.  My mind is usually in thousands of places at once, so going for walks gives me some room for consideration.

Everyone has days where they feel overwhelmed. The trouble is that it’s entirely relative.  People who have seemingly normal lives, strong careers, healthy families, money in the bank - these people all have their crosses to bear.  The good news it that sometimes all we need is to take a step back.  Most of the things I’ve spent hours worrying about…make that almost all of the things…either never came to fruition or worked themselves out.  My mind has created terrible scenarios, probably as a means of defense.  Yet time and again, there was no cause for alarm.  The problem was smaller than I realized.

I try to be supportive of the people I care about, though I’m not perfect.  Sometimes I don’t know what to say or do, and that frustrates me.  I realize that they too have their anxieties, and maybe they are no closer to understanding them than I am mine.  I do believe, though, that if you care enough, you can make a difference.

NEW YORK (AP) - It was a report calculated to send chills through those charged with anti-terrorist vigilance in New York City: Bearded intruders secretly penetrate heavily guarded transportation site.

But it turned out the would-be trespassers were goats imported by the National Park Service to clean up poison ivy and other unwanted weeds at historic Fort Wadsworth, a 200-year-old Revolutionary War rampart on Staten Island near the Verrazano Bridge.

Brian Feeney, a park service spokesman, said the goats are brought down yearly from a farm near Rhinebeck, N.Y., and escaped about two weeks ago.

According to officials, the dozen goats - or, as the Daily News described them, “weapons of grass destruction” - managed to slip under a metal fence separating the fort from bridge property, without setting off electronic alarms or sensors installed by the Metropolitan Transportation Authority to guard against intruders.

In a statement, the MTA’s Bridge and Tunnel Division said the fence was not actually part of the bridge protection system. Because the animals did not get past a second, more formidable fence, the agency said, “there was no security breach” affecting the bridge that spans New York harbor between Staten Island and Brooklyn.

The goats were spotted by a human bridge guard, rounded up and put back in their pen at Fort Wadsworth.

(Sigh.)

I’ve received several emails telling me how unpatriotic Barack Obama is because his plane was refurbished and an American flag decal was removed.

This is why I love people who don’t fact check.

Yes, the plane was redesigned so that a TRADEMARKED North American Airlines® flag could be removed.

Not to mention the fact that Obama does feature a flag on his plane.

I find it vaguely, no, completely humorous that people are digging for anything at all to slam this candidate.  Tell me you feel he’s unqualified - I will accept that.  Tell me he’s too young - again, I will understand.  Tell me he’s Muslim - I will point out that no, he is not.  He was raised Christian; his father, who was Muslim in his youth, became an Atheist by the time he moved to the United States.

Now there’s some real humor.  Pseudo-Christians in this country on a rampage over Obama’s alleged Muslim faith.  They’d rather he believe in nothing.

The good news Obama haters?  His father is dead.  His mother was white!  So there may be hope yet!

That’s what this is about, folks.  Unless you can give a reason relating to his political experience or youth, unless you take criticism with his goals and agenda for the country should he become president, you very often come across as nothing more than racist.

Patriotism isn’t waving a flag post 9-11.  Did your car feature a flag before that fateful day?  Do you go to services on Veteran’s Day?  Memorial Day?  Do you purchase American made products, or do you buy where it’s easier or more convenient?  If I don’t do any of these things, am I not a “true American”?

The day I was born, my parents chose my name.  My first name, a popular name given to girls in America.  My last name Scottish.  My middle name, Muslim.  I was named after the wife of a very dear friend of my father’s.  A man who was hard working and kind.  A man who made a better life for his family in America.  Not a terrorist.  Not an extremist.

Am I guilty because of my name?  Am I less patriotic?  I am Jennifer Shamim Smith and I am PROUD of my name, proud of the person I was named for, and proud of my parents for choosing my name.  I am also proud of my country.

I don’t have to prove it to anyone.

Why is it that some people insist…make that many people insist on thinking in black or white?  There is no gray.  Words like “maybe, possibly, partially” don’t fit into their vocabulary.  They either hate that shirt or they love that dress.  They can’t stand dogs or they adore cats.  They loathe rap or they worship country music.

I mildly enjoy pickles.  I don’t care much for country music, but I can handle it once in a blue moon..(make that a neon moon..)  Now don’t get me wrong - passivity can be just as annoying.  I appreciate people who can take a stand.  But why speak in absolutes?  Very rarely is something always like this or never like that.

On another note, I’m still waiting for my doctor to call. I feel like I always have to wait for him.

Oops.

Still waiting to hear back from my doctor. I adore the man, have since my first visit to his office. My previous doctor was friendly enough, but his idea of practicing medicine was to give me penicillin no matter the ailment. Back pain, stomach pain, twisted ankle, loose tooth, etc. My current doctor is warm and engaging. He really cares about his patients, and he doesn’t dismiss your concerns. If only you didn’t have to wait 4 hours to get into his office.

Today I feel rather sloth-like. I’m just in this weird, foggy zone. It’s like being in a very tiny library with tons of books but no shelf space in sight. That’s what my mind feels like right now.

Humph.