On Christmas Eve, I worked in the morning and then headed out to Mr. Burns house who would be returning from the airport with some family members who were visiting. As I drove, I found myself behind a woman in a Mercedes, who stopped in the middle of traffic and dashed out her car.
I watched as she delivered a decorated gift bag to a homeless person who was panhandling on the street. I figured I'd stay behind her car, rather than pull around her so that I could help protect her car from another driver who might not realize she was stopped.
She got back in the car and went half a block before she stopped the car again. She handed the next group of homeless panhandlers gift bags and cash. I studied the inside of her car and determined it looked like her three teen-aged sons were with her... and something was taking up space on the back seat, as two boys were sitting close together on one end of the seat bench.
I continued to follow the Mercedes, mesmerized. They were stopping traffic to hand out gift bags and large bills to all the homeless people they saw!
I gave a gentle honk and gave them both thumbs up as I smiled from ear to ear -- and even missed my turn by 5 blocks because I so enjoyed witnessing the act of kindness!.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Spirit of Christmas?
I have been mystified.
It started sometime in the past ten years - when it seemed to suddenly become inappropriate to wish someone a Merry Christmas. 'Happy Holidays' is somehow more politically correct. Someone, society maybe, is trying to suck Christ out of Christmas.
I decided years ago to fight it. I will say 'Merry Christmas' and I'll mean it. I'm not trying to squelch anybody else's beliefs - but I will not deny my own.
Then I noticed, every time I wish a heart-felt 'Merry Christmas' to a stranger in a store - I get a knot in my throat and tears in my eyes. A bit mystifying. A bit disturbing. Am I struggling internally with forcing my faith on someone else? Or is it just an extension of my inability to sing hymns in church without being moved to tears?
Am I a true Christian sharing my faith, or am I just making lip service by wishing someone a Merry Christmas?
Last night I rushed into a Ross store after work to pick up some cheap supplies for our Christmas celebration. Serving spoons, a nice platter - that sort of thing - without having to drop a lot of cash. I'm unemployed/underemployed again this year and I'm not buying Christmas gifts for my whole family - so I certainly didn't want to go overboard on supplies.
After I checked out and was walking to my car, a woman sitting in the entryway greeted me.
"How are you tonight?" she asked.
"Good and you?
"I'm homeless." she said.
"Oh no." I replied. "Can I help you with anything?"
"Can you give me money for a warm cup of coffee?"
"Sure." I pulled out $5 and handed it to her, figuring she could get that and something to eat at the pancake house next door.
"I could use a blanket to keep warm." she offered.
I thought for second, realizing that I could go back into the store and get her a blanket or a comforter from the home department. Then I remembered the blanket I keep in the trunk of my car in case of being stranded. I went and got it for her.
When I returned, she slipped her feet out of her cheap, ill-fitting sneakers. They were bandaged and crusty and swollen. She told me that she'll get Disability in two weeks but for now she has nothing. She said her foot was swelling quickly.
I thought about the City Mission, but reasoned that she must know about it and if she wasn't already there she probably didn't want to be there. (I could be wrong.) I wondered if there was a cheap motel nearby where I could get her a room for $20. I wanted to help, I told her, but I just got laid-off myself and don't have a lot of money. (I felt a bit of a lie - as I am struggling for the lifestyle I am accustomed to... but I have plenty.)
I looked at her feet again. "Do you have socks?"
"No."
"Let's see if we can get you some warm boots."
She sprang from her seat and followed me to the shoe department where I learned she wears a size 11. Of course there were only about five items in the size 11 section - so we settled on a pair of fuzzy lined, rubber soled slippers with plenty of room for her swollen, bandaged foot and a pair of socks.
It cost about $15.
I figured I'm not buying anyone else gifts, I can at least do this. ( I could probably do more.)
I met her back at the entryway and told her I hope they would be warm.
She asked if she could come stay at my house that night.
I said I didn't have room. (I mean, what do you do?)
I wondered if she went to the hospital for her foot if they would keep her overnight and before I said it aloud, realized they wouldn't. I didn't know what to do. How else I could help. (Frankly, without inconveniencing myself more.)
I did sincerely want to help, but I also didn't want her sleeping on my couch.
And now I am still struggling. I did show her kindness - but was I Christ-like?
I turned to leave and wished her a Merry Christmas - there was no knot in my throat, and no welling of tears - and she is the first person who wished it back with real sincerity in her voice.
It started sometime in the past ten years - when it seemed to suddenly become inappropriate to wish someone a Merry Christmas. 'Happy Holidays' is somehow more politically correct. Someone, society maybe, is trying to suck Christ out of Christmas.
I decided years ago to fight it. I will say 'Merry Christmas' and I'll mean it. I'm not trying to squelch anybody else's beliefs - but I will not deny my own.
Then I noticed, every time I wish a heart-felt 'Merry Christmas' to a stranger in a store - I get a knot in my throat and tears in my eyes. A bit mystifying. A bit disturbing. Am I struggling internally with forcing my faith on someone else? Or is it just an extension of my inability to sing hymns in church without being moved to tears?
Am I a true Christian sharing my faith, or am I just making lip service by wishing someone a Merry Christmas?
Last night I rushed into a Ross store after work to pick up some cheap supplies for our Christmas celebration. Serving spoons, a nice platter - that sort of thing - without having to drop a lot of cash. I'm unemployed/underemployed again this year and I'm not buying Christmas gifts for my whole family - so I certainly didn't want to go overboard on supplies.
After I checked out and was walking to my car, a woman sitting in the entryway greeted me.
"How are you tonight?" she asked.
"Good and you?
"I'm homeless." she said.
"Oh no." I replied. "Can I help you with anything?"
"Can you give me money for a warm cup of coffee?"
"Sure." I pulled out $5 and handed it to her, figuring she could get that and something to eat at the pancake house next door.
"I could use a blanket to keep warm." she offered.
I thought for second, realizing that I could go back into the store and get her a blanket or a comforter from the home department. Then I remembered the blanket I keep in the trunk of my car in case of being stranded. I went and got it for her.
When I returned, she slipped her feet out of her cheap, ill-fitting sneakers. They were bandaged and crusty and swollen. She told me that she'll get Disability in two weeks but for now she has nothing. She said her foot was swelling quickly.
I thought about the City Mission, but reasoned that she must know about it and if she wasn't already there she probably didn't want to be there. (I could be wrong.) I wondered if there was a cheap motel nearby where I could get her a room for $20. I wanted to help, I told her, but I just got laid-off myself and don't have a lot of money. (I felt a bit of a lie - as I am struggling for the lifestyle I am accustomed to... but I have plenty.)
I looked at her feet again. "Do you have socks?"
"No."
"Let's see if we can get you some warm boots."
She sprang from her seat and followed me to the shoe department where I learned she wears a size 11. Of course there were only about five items in the size 11 section - so we settled on a pair of fuzzy lined, rubber soled slippers with plenty of room for her swollen, bandaged foot and a pair of socks.
It cost about $15.
I figured I'm not buying anyone else gifts, I can at least do this. ( I could probably do more.)
I met her back at the entryway and told her I hope they would be warm.
She asked if she could come stay at my house that night.
I said I didn't have room. (I mean, what do you do?)
I wondered if she went to the hospital for her foot if they would keep her overnight and before I said it aloud, realized they wouldn't. I didn't know what to do. How else I could help. (Frankly, without inconveniencing myself more.)
I did sincerely want to help, but I also didn't want her sleeping on my couch.
And now I am still struggling. I did show her kindness - but was I Christ-like?
I turned to leave and wished her a Merry Christmas - there was no knot in my throat, and no welling of tears - and she is the first person who wished it back with real sincerity in her voice.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Ducks
You haven't heard too much about Mr. Burns around these parts lately - and that's only because I'm carefully sorting out thoughts and feelings, and enjoying the complete turn-around from last year at this time.
There is a lot of 'future-talk' these days. He has suggested that if we were to get married, we should live in his condo for a year or so to save up for a house. The idea scares me (not the marriage - but living in his small condo) because my best friend moved into her husband's tiny house in 2002 and they are still there -- now with two children!!
My chief complaint is that there are only two closets... a coat closet and a walk-in closet in the master bedroom (the spare room doesn't even have a closet - it was designed to be an office.) I suggested that if I were to move in, we would have to redesign the closet space to accommodate both of us. So last weekend, he bought an elfa closet system and we installed it together. Amazing! He keeps opening the closet doors and saying, "Wow!"
The redesign required completely emptying his closet - removing the old builder-grade shelves and rods - installing the new system - and then organizing his stuff back in the new closet.
In the process he uncovered something he picked up years ago in Korea when he was sent there for a few months on his first job out of college.
They're called Marriage Ducks. A traditional gift for a Korean couple, each duck represents the bride and groom - and is a symbol of the status of their marriage.
He surprised me further by taking them out of their box and setting them on the fireplace mantle, nose to nose, above our hanging Christmas stockings.
The next day I was especially crabby - due to outside forces. With the fuel from all my negative energy I ended up cleaning most of his house. The circumstances that made me angry kept swirling in my head as I thought of all the sassy retorts I could fling at those who irritated me to this state. I evaluated my crabby mood and thought about the ducks - and how it would benefit me to keep my mouth shut rather than spout out all the complaints in my head.
When Mr. Burns returned home, along with all the cleaning I accomplished... he noticed the female duck and the string I had tied around her beak, then burst out laughing.
I don't know if it was the cleaning and burning off my angry jet fuel that improved my mood for the rest of the day - or my acknowledgement of my big fat mouth.
But I think the ducks are a great idea.
There is a lot of 'future-talk' these days. He has suggested that if we were to get married, we should live in his condo for a year or so to save up for a house. The idea scares me (not the marriage - but living in his small condo) because my best friend moved into her husband's tiny house in 2002 and they are still there -- now with two children!!
My chief complaint is that there are only two closets... a coat closet and a walk-in closet in the master bedroom (the spare room doesn't even have a closet - it was designed to be an office.) I suggested that if I were to move in, we would have to redesign the closet space to accommodate both of us. So last weekend, he bought an elfa closet system and we installed it together. Amazing! He keeps opening the closet doors and saying, "Wow!"
The redesign required completely emptying his closet - removing the old builder-grade shelves and rods - installing the new system - and then organizing his stuff back in the new closet.
In the process he uncovered something he picked up years ago in Korea when he was sent there for a few months on his first job out of college.
They're called Marriage Ducks. A traditional gift for a Korean couple, each duck represents the bride and groom - and is a symbol of the status of their marriage.
I was touched that he thought to buy the ducks back in his early twenties - clearly expecting marriage at some point in his life - and that now after many years this hopeful souvenir might turn out to be meant for me/us.
Traditional Korean Weddings always include a pair of Korean Wedding Ducks. Ducks mate for life, and are revered by the Korean people as symbols of loyalty and fidelity in a marriage. After the marriage, the Wedding Ducks are placed in the home of the newlyweds. If the ducks are facing each other, nose to nose, then the marriage is happy. If the ducks are facing away from each other, tail to tail, then the couple is fighting. The female duck has blue and red strings tied around her bill as a reminder to keep silent and always support her husband.
source: http://www.designjournalmag.com/product/Korean_Wedding_Duck
He surprised me further by taking them out of their box and setting them on the fireplace mantle, nose to nose, above our hanging Christmas stockings.
The next day I was especially crabby - due to outside forces. With the fuel from all my negative energy I ended up cleaning most of his house. The circumstances that made me angry kept swirling in my head as I thought of all the sassy retorts I could fling at those who irritated me to this state. I evaluated my crabby mood and thought about the ducks - and how it would benefit me to keep my mouth shut rather than spout out all the complaints in my head.
When Mr. Burns returned home, along with all the cleaning I accomplished... he noticed the female duck and the string I had tied around her beak, then burst out laughing.
I don't know if it was the cleaning and burning off my angry jet fuel that improved my mood for the rest of the day - or my acknowledgement of my big fat mouth.
But I think the ducks are a great idea.
The Challenge
I tend to challenge assumptions. Particularly as a single woman.
Once, just after I completed college I had to call my High School to get some transcripts or some such.
So I called my High School and a student, working in the school office answered. I told her what I needed and she asked for my name. I told her my name, the same as I introduced myself at the start of the phone call.
"I mean your maiden name." she said.
Really?!
"One in the same." I replied. "I've only just finished college, not married yet."
Ugh!
Shortly after I bought my condo, a friend, also a new homeowner told me about a home store going out of business. She knew I wanted to change my bathroom sink and thought I might find a deal there.
I remembered to swing by after work one day - failing to bring my measurements with me - but thinking I could look around.
A salesman swarmed me, and upon hearing I wanted a pedestal sink showed me a sink that could suffice for a tub!
"I think that is too big for my space. I'm sorry, I forgot to bring my measurements."
He went on about it being a 'regular size'. Not realizing that I live in an older building and not an oversized modern home that needs a sink the size of a swimming pool to bring things to scale.
He was relentless - trying to push the sink on me. I insisted my determination that it would not fit between the toilet and the tub and suddenly he was hit with a bright idea.
"You could call. Find out the right measurement."
I didn't skip a beat.
"Call? Call where, my home? Who would answer? I'm here. I am not home. I cannot answer at home if I am here."
He did not understand.
So I clarified.
"I'm not married. I live alone. There is no husband to come to my rescue here."
He was bewildered. As if I couldn't own a home without a husband or something.
Anyway. I left the salesman, looked around the store and found the perfect pedestal sink (petite size) for $49 and hired a handyman to install it.
I still love that sink!
Once, just after I completed college I had to call my High School to get some transcripts or some such.
So I called my High School and a student, working in the school office answered. I told her what I needed and she asked for my name. I told her my name, the same as I introduced myself at the start of the phone call.
"I mean your maiden name." she said.
Really?!
"One in the same." I replied. "I've only just finished college, not married yet."
Ugh!
Shortly after I bought my condo, a friend, also a new homeowner told me about a home store going out of business. She knew I wanted to change my bathroom sink and thought I might find a deal there.
I remembered to swing by after work one day - failing to bring my measurements with me - but thinking I could look around.
A salesman swarmed me, and upon hearing I wanted a pedestal sink showed me a sink that could suffice for a tub!
"I think that is too big for my space. I'm sorry, I forgot to bring my measurements."
He went on about it being a 'regular size'. Not realizing that I live in an older building and not an oversized modern home that needs a sink the size of a swimming pool to bring things to scale.
He was relentless - trying to push the sink on me. I insisted my determination that it would not fit between the toilet and the tub and suddenly he was hit with a bright idea.
"You could call. Find out the right measurement."
I didn't skip a beat.
"Call? Call where, my home? Who would answer? I'm here. I am not home. I cannot answer at home if I am here."
He did not understand.
So I clarified.
"I'm not married. I live alone. There is no husband to come to my rescue here."
He was bewildered. As if I couldn't own a home without a husband or something.
Anyway. I left the salesman, looked around the store and found the perfect pedestal sink (petite size) for $49 and hired a handyman to install it.
I still love that sink!
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Rawr!
I'm pretty sure I woke up this morning, already upset. Not that I'm ever very cheery in the morning but something was weighing on my mind.
I'm trying to find more of my own personal space in my life and part of that comes in the form of time away from my and everyone else's blog - and checking my email only occasionally. I have a bit of an Internet addiction... once I'm on it ... hours fly by. I'm losing my life.
So now I'm choosing to only minimally check my email, lest I be sucked in by the rest of the Internet.
I'm on my HOA board - at this point - mainly because I don't trust what the board will do if I'm NOT on it. The Board President sent a snarky email saying he hasn't heard from any of us about the email he sent Saturday morning. I first saw both of these emails on Monday when I finally got around to checking my email- and explained that to him - only to get a response back that he checks HIS email a couple times a day and it's not too much to expect that we all do the same.
FINE! Maybe you aren't addicted to the Internet like I am!
Suddenly, my head was swirling with everything that keeps me from living the life I want right now.
But mainly, I can't stand it when I feel that someone is upset with me so it spun 'round and 'round inside me. Until I called Mr. Burns to let it out.
Then I was talking about resigning from the board - and selling my condo and ... and ... and...
Mr. Burns said, "I'm finally understanding how you get when your period starts."
Whoa!
He was right. I was more emotional than I needed to be, and that was exactly why.
Then he said, "The first few times it was like, 'Jeez, she's crazy'. But now I know it just is what it is."
I had to laugh - because as menstrual symptoms go - the sweet Lord has spared me. I get serious fatigue the first day then it's mostly over with. Until I was regularly around Mr. Burns I didn't realize how emotional I get (also the first day) - and that's probably because I have enough girlfriends to spout off to that they never had to hear it every month. But poor Mr. Burns is my go-to set of ears and shoulders now.
So I laughed and told him that compared to a lot women, I'm not even very bad. (though I do think my emotional range is worse now as I'm getting older). He agreed, reminding me that I once broke down and declared myself "Just a pile of goo." That is what he refers to me as at those times now.
Actually, I think that ought to keep him around because if I'm pretty mild - he doesn't want to find out what 'normal' PMS is like in other women!!!
I'm trying to find more of my own personal space in my life and part of that comes in the form of time away from my and everyone else's blog - and checking my email only occasionally. I have a bit of an Internet addiction... once I'm on it ... hours fly by. I'm losing my life.
So now I'm choosing to only minimally check my email, lest I be sucked in by the rest of the Internet.
I'm on my HOA board - at this point - mainly because I don't trust what the board will do if I'm NOT on it. The Board President sent a snarky email saying he hasn't heard from any of us about the email he sent Saturday morning. I first saw both of these emails on Monday when I finally got around to checking my email- and explained that to him - only to get a response back that he checks HIS email a couple times a day and it's not too much to expect that we all do the same.
FINE! Maybe you aren't addicted to the Internet like I am!
Suddenly, my head was swirling with everything that keeps me from living the life I want right now.
But mainly, I can't stand it when I feel that someone is upset with me so it spun 'round and 'round inside me. Until I called Mr. Burns to let it out.
Then I was talking about resigning from the board - and selling my condo and ... and ... and...
Mr. Burns said, "I'm finally understanding how you get when your period starts."
Whoa!
He was right. I was more emotional than I needed to be, and that was exactly why.
Then he said, "The first few times it was like, 'Jeez, she's crazy'. But now I know it just is what it is."
I had to laugh - because as menstrual symptoms go - the sweet Lord has spared me. I get serious fatigue the first day then it's mostly over with. Until I was regularly around Mr. Burns I didn't realize how emotional I get (also the first day) - and that's probably because I have enough girlfriends to spout off to that they never had to hear it every month. But poor Mr. Burns is my go-to set of ears and shoulders now.
So I laughed and told him that compared to a lot women, I'm not even very bad. (though I do think my emotional range is worse now as I'm getting older). He agreed, reminding me that I once broke down and declared myself "Just a pile of goo." That is what he refers to me as at those times now.
Actually, I think that ought to keep him around because if I'm pretty mild - he doesn't want to find out what 'normal' PMS is like in other women!!!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Gratitude
I know my life is not perfect. It is filled with challenges and complications that often frustrate me.
Finding the ideal job after 14 months of unemployment/ underemployment - and getting laid-off a year later. Finding a really good man and having to break up because something keeps him from being 100% invested. Buying a condo all by myself - and having the worst neighbor in the history of the world move in below me!!!
I know my life is not perfect. I know that no body's is. But it does seem that some people are charmed. Nothing seems to go wrong. Everything goes so smoothly, you wonder if they even notice.
Like the friend who announces her pregnancy to everyone she knows the second the stick turns blue. Really? You're not worried the stick is wrong, or that the pregnancy won't stick?
When every other friend I know dealt with at least one miscarriage before they had a pregnancy they could announce - it seems like just assuming everything is going to go perfectly is akin to taking that blessing for granted.
Or the friend who has to make up problems. With her husband's support, she's a stay at home mom - but stresses that their house is too small for their children to be proud of. That the baby's room isn't 100% Pottery Barn. Precious time with your children and enough blankets to be warm, no matter the label or thread count is nothing to take for granted.
So today, I am thankful for the challenges in my life. I can't take having a job for granted, I can't take a man who loves me unconditionally for granted. My parents, in their 70s are healthy and hilarious - can't take that for granted.
I've always said that taking so long to find the right guy - I would never take my husband, or the fact that I have a husband - for granted. And I don't think I ever could. (should that day arrive!)
Doing without should make a person appreciate that which she has.
I'm grateful for the challenges in my life because they make me appreciate the sweet, simple, easy stuff all the more.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Finding the ideal job after 14 months of unemployment/ underemployment - and getting laid-off a year later. Finding a really good man and having to break up because something keeps him from being 100% invested. Buying a condo all by myself - and having the worst neighbor in the history of the world move in below me!!!
I know my life is not perfect. I know that no body's is. But it does seem that some people are charmed. Nothing seems to go wrong. Everything goes so smoothly, you wonder if they even notice.
Like the friend who announces her pregnancy to everyone she knows the second the stick turns blue. Really? You're not worried the stick is wrong, or that the pregnancy won't stick?
When every other friend I know dealt with at least one miscarriage before they had a pregnancy they could announce - it seems like just assuming everything is going to go perfectly is akin to taking that blessing for granted.
Or the friend who has to make up problems. With her husband's support, she's a stay at home mom - but stresses that their house is too small for their children to be proud of. That the baby's room isn't 100% Pottery Barn. Precious time with your children and enough blankets to be warm, no matter the label or thread count is nothing to take for granted.
So today, I am thankful for the challenges in my life. I can't take having a job for granted, I can't take a man who loves me unconditionally for granted. My parents, in their 70s are healthy and hilarious - can't take that for granted.
I've always said that taking so long to find the right guy - I would never take my husband, or the fact that I have a husband - for granted. And I don't think I ever could. (should that day arrive!)
Doing without should make a person appreciate that which she has.
I'm grateful for the challenges in my life because they make me appreciate the sweet, simple, easy stuff all the more.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Back to Sleep
My back - particularly my shoulders - are all kinds of jacked-up.
I've had a knot in my right shoulder for about 20 years now. It was dissolved for about a week around three years ago when my dear, dear friend Kikr treated me to her favorite massage therapist. If only I could afford to visit a 6' 7", 260lb, ex-marine-turned- massage-therapist in San Francisco once a week - perhaps I could keep that knot at bay.
I can't, so the knot is stubbornly at the base of my neck and screaming at me on a daily basis.
It screams really loudly in the mornings as I wake up laying on my back with my right shoulder next to my ear. It takes a good hour and a hot shower to ease the stiff pain.
This morning, I woke up with my right arm above my head, as if I were in a dramatic fainting scene in a silent film. Shoulder firmly planted next to my ear.
My chiropractor does not find this amusing. She enjoys my rendition of the story of course, but once she gets me on the table and starts cracking away she tells me just how out of alignment I am. Today even my ribs were out of place!! Not kidding.
If only I could afford to see her each week!
Today, she reminded me that lying on one's stomach immediately moves one's spine out of alignment. I knew it wasn't good for me, but I never before realized that it was that bad! I told her that I thought I was making progress because for the past year I've been waking up on my back. Yay me!
But the fact that I crawl into bed, ease to my right side for about 5 minutes then roll onto my stomach, cradling my pillow between my arms and my head until I fall asleep has her concerned. We don't know what time of the night or morning I move to my back.
She told me that some folks sew pockets on the front of their PJs and fill them with tennis balls to avoid rolling onto their tummy. I imagined that it would take just two attempts to roll over before those tennis balls find themselves across the room!!
How do you fall asleep? Have you ever had to break the habit of sleeping on your stomach - and how did you do it?
I've had a knot in my right shoulder for about 20 years now. It was dissolved for about a week around three years ago when my dear, dear friend Kikr treated me to her favorite massage therapist. If only I could afford to visit a 6' 7", 260lb, ex-marine-turned- massage-therapist in San Francisco once a week - perhaps I could keep that knot at bay.
I can't, so the knot is stubbornly at the base of my neck and screaming at me on a daily basis.
It screams really loudly in the mornings as I wake up laying on my back with my right shoulder next to my ear. It takes a good hour and a hot shower to ease the stiff pain.
This morning, I woke up with my right arm above my head, as if I were in a dramatic fainting scene in a silent film. Shoulder firmly planted next to my ear.
My chiropractor does not find this amusing. She enjoys my rendition of the story of course, but once she gets me on the table and starts cracking away she tells me just how out of alignment I am. Today even my ribs were out of place!! Not kidding.
If only I could afford to see her each week!
Today, she reminded me that lying on one's stomach immediately moves one's spine out of alignment. I knew it wasn't good for me, but I never before realized that it was that bad! I told her that I thought I was making progress because for the past year I've been waking up on my back. Yay me!
But the fact that I crawl into bed, ease to my right side for about 5 minutes then roll onto my stomach, cradling my pillow between my arms and my head until I fall asleep has her concerned. We don't know what time of the night or morning I move to my back.
She told me that some folks sew pockets on the front of their PJs and fill them with tennis balls to avoid rolling onto their tummy. I imagined that it would take just two attempts to roll over before those tennis balls find themselves across the room!!
How do you fall asleep? Have you ever had to break the habit of sleeping on your stomach - and how did you do it?
Friday, November 13, 2009
Mourning a Friendship
Distance can take a toll on some friendships. In some friendships, I'm the one who moved. I live 10 hours away from some of my closest friends. Others are movers too - and I live half a continent away from each of them - and oddly, they keep in contact the best.
The opportunities to see everyone who has scattered all over the country are rare, so we stay in contact by phone and email. Prior to all these social network advances - it was always mystifying when we found ourselves on the same sofa after years passed - yet it felt as though time hadn't passed at all. Such a beautiful quality of friendship. There are no gaps!
I truly value those friendships in which - even after not speaking for six or nine months, when you do reconnect - neither of you are bitter for the time that passed. You're just happy to connect again, knowing another year may pass before you catch up again - but the connection will always be as warm.
That's part of why I think Facebook is a bit deceiving, as it allows us to feel that we are connected by daily contact when really, we're just sort of eavesdropping. Real connections take effort.
I've come to realize that over the years - some friendships stand the test of time. Other friends are in our lives just for seasons. There is a reason God brings us together. It's not always for
a lifetime, but it always enriches your life. People leave their mark.
Some friends have drifted away. Sometimes it hurts. Other times, years pass before you even realize that someone is no longer in your life. They just sort of fade out - and that's okay.
Twice in my life, friendships have ended because it was the other person's choice and not mine. I had every intention of knowing these women into our old age - but for some reason they are done with me.
Right now I am struggling with the difference between a mutual fade - and being dumped. The difference is, months can pass and when I reach out to reconnect, my efforts are ignored. I have found that I have made three or four attempts in the past year - and received no response. Efforts begin to feel like pleas... and still nothing. It's the lack or response that tears at me.
It makes me wonder. Have I done wrong? Was I hurtful? Are they just preoccupied with their husband and children and all the blessings that we prayed for one another to have? Did I offend?
Or worse.
When someone you love becomes someone you don't know - it can be because of something very painful in their lives that they are not ready or willing to share. Marriage trouble, sick children, dying parents. As their friend you don't want them to struggle. You want to give assistance. You want to be Christ to them.
But that may not even be what is happening. This person is done with me and doesn't feel the need to give a reason.
This time I am really struggling with the rejection.
It seems when someone has shared the intimate details of your life and theirs, that they shouldn't just pull out without a word.
There is a special bitterness that I hate to admit - I poured hours of love and prayers into baby gifts that I sewed for her family. I know it sounds silly but to me that feels like an investment - and it hurts even more to be ignored.
I really want to shake this loose from my heart - but it pulls at me almost daily.
My bloggy friends - tell me - how have you come to terms with the loss of a friend?
The opportunities to see everyone who has scattered all over the country are rare, so we stay in contact by phone and email. Prior to all these social network advances - it was always mystifying when we found ourselves on the same sofa after years passed - yet it felt as though time hadn't passed at all. Such a beautiful quality of friendship. There are no gaps!
I truly value those friendships in which - even after not speaking for six or nine months, when you do reconnect - neither of you are bitter for the time that passed. You're just happy to connect again, knowing another year may pass before you catch up again - but the connection will always be as warm.
That's part of why I think Facebook is a bit deceiving, as it allows us to feel that we are connected by daily contact when really, we're just sort of eavesdropping. Real connections take effort.
I've come to realize that over the years - some friendships stand the test of time. Other friends are in our lives just for seasons. There is a reason God brings us together. It's not always for
a lifetime, but it always enriches your life. People leave their mark.
Some friends have drifted away. Sometimes it hurts. Other times, years pass before you even realize that someone is no longer in your life. They just sort of fade out - and that's okay.
Twice in my life, friendships have ended because it was the other person's choice and not mine. I had every intention of knowing these women into our old age - but for some reason they are done with me.
Right now I am struggling with the difference between a mutual fade - and being dumped. The difference is, months can pass and when I reach out to reconnect, my efforts are ignored. I have found that I have made three or four attempts in the past year - and received no response. Efforts begin to feel like pleas... and still nothing. It's the lack or response that tears at me.
It makes me wonder. Have I done wrong? Was I hurtful? Are they just preoccupied with their husband and children and all the blessings that we prayed for one another to have? Did I offend?
Or worse.
When someone you love becomes someone you don't know - it can be because of something very painful in their lives that they are not ready or willing to share. Marriage trouble, sick children, dying parents. As their friend you don't want them to struggle. You want to give assistance. You want to be Christ to them.
But that may not even be what is happening. This person is done with me and doesn't feel the need to give a reason.
This time I am really struggling with the rejection.
It seems when someone has shared the intimate details of your life and theirs, that they shouldn't just pull out without a word.
There is a special bitterness that I hate to admit - I poured hours of love and prayers into baby gifts that I sewed for her family. I know it sounds silly but to me that feels like an investment - and it hurts even more to be ignored.
I really want to shake this loose from my heart - but it pulls at me almost daily.
My bloggy friends - tell me - how have you come to terms with the loss of a friend?
Monday, November 02, 2009
Small Accomplishment
I ran out of drawer space ages ago.
If I could keep a job and make some money, I would buy a new dresser set but that for now, is not an option.
So last winter I cleared my tights selection out of a drawer and stored them in a canvas bin in one of my closets. The only problem being, the bin liner is affixed with Velcro - which is a certain blight to tights and hosiery!
For nearly a year, I put off the task of stuffing each pair of collants into sandwich baggies. I'm pleased to announce that I tackled that job this morning! Yay. Small accomplishment.
I did realize that inside each bag, it's hard to tell the style of the tights so I wrote and stuffed brief descriptions inside.
Black fishnet, reinforced toe. Gray opaque stripe. Brown herringbone.
Quite satisfied as I stuffed them all back into the canvas bin. Then I realized it would still be a chore to know exactly what I was dealing with without digging.
Wouldn't it be even more useful to have an inventory - so that when I think I need a certain style of tights to complete an outfit... I could check against the inventory and make sure not to purchase a repeat?
Brilliant! Thought I.
Oh - and I also made notes about damage, like "snags above the knees" so I would know not to bother pulling them on for a shorter skirt.
If I wanted to be really organized, I could add corresponding numbers to the inventory and to the slips of paper inside - so if I'm looking for a pair - I can just refer to the number.
I also considered taking pictures of each tight on my leg so that I could see the texture and style immediately.
Will think about that.
Obviously, this was done in avoidance of scrubbing my kitchen floor.
I don't even wear tights very often!!
If I could keep a job and make some money, I would buy a new dresser set but that for now, is not an option.
So last winter I cleared my tights selection out of a drawer and stored them in a canvas bin in one of my closets. The only problem being, the bin liner is affixed with Velcro - which is a certain blight to tights and hosiery!
For nearly a year, I put off the task of stuffing each pair of collants into sandwich baggies. I'm pleased to announce that I tackled that job this morning! Yay. Small accomplishment.
I did realize that inside each bag, it's hard to tell the style of the tights so I wrote and stuffed brief descriptions inside.
Black fishnet, reinforced toe. Gray opaque stripe. Brown herringbone.
Quite satisfied as I stuffed them all back into the canvas bin. Then I realized it would still be a chore to know exactly what I was dealing with without digging.
Wouldn't it be even more useful to have an inventory - so that when I think I need a certain style of tights to complete an outfit... I could check against the inventory and make sure not to purchase a repeat?
Brilliant! Thought I.Oh - and I also made notes about damage, like "snags above the knees" so I would know not to bother pulling them on for a shorter skirt.
If I wanted to be really organized, I could add corresponding numbers to the inventory and to the slips of paper inside - so if I'm looking for a pair - I can just refer to the number.
I also considered taking pictures of each tight on my leg so that I could see the texture and style immediately.
Will think about that.
Obviously, this was done in avoidance of scrubbing my kitchen floor.
I don't even wear tights very often!!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Clash of the TV Viewing Habits
When the new TV season started - FlashForward looked like an interesting show. Mr. Burns and I found ourselves aboard an airplane on the evening of it's premire, so we set the DVR that night and every Thursday night since.
Now, Mr. Burns doesn't find much he likes on regular network TV (ironic - as that is where I work, local TV - on the low numbered channels - that is) so it's a big effort to get him to agree to watch a series with me. This weekend, we sat down to watch the first two episodes. I found it intriguing. He isn't so impressed with drama - particularly the type that drags out.
In addition to that, we have different TV/Movie-watching styles. I'm a "I-didn't-hear-what-they-said-let's-rewind."- type of viewer. (I mean, what is rewind for if not that?) He is a "Let's-not-take-a-whole-hour-to-watch-an-hour-show"- type of viewer.
These two types can clash.
So after I twice asked for a rewind to make out some mumbled dialogue... I tried really hard not to miss anything for the rest of an episode. Just the sort of thing you do to make someone happy.
As the episode came to an end and a bit of information was revealed to answer a built-up mystery and keep you hooked for next week -- I said, "I pretty-much guessed that would happen."
Mr. Burns, declared that unfair. "You can't say you predicted something after it happens. That's cheating. You have to say so before it happens, or you could claim to have predicted everything!"
This is an annoyance he has voiced before. But, I felt caught in cross hairs.
"You don't want me to talk during the program, and you don't like to pause or rewind." I figured I had him.
He smirked and said, "Well, you can interrupt to tell me a prediction!"
(Okay, but some other people hate when people do that! - namely me!)
So we mockingly bickered back and forth about TV viewing etiquette - and he tried to trump me with his sound reasoning. Until I shot back... "You know, if I have to spend the rest of my life dancing around your delicate eco-system - this just isn't going to work!!"
I thought I had him.
Then he said, "I'd prefer it if you tip-toed around my eco-system."
Smart-aleck!!
Now, Mr. Burns doesn't find much he likes on regular network TV (ironic - as that is where I work, local TV - on the low numbered channels - that is) so it's a big effort to get him to agree to watch a series with me. This weekend, we sat down to watch the first two episodes. I found it intriguing. He isn't so impressed with drama - particularly the type that drags out.
In addition to that, we have different TV/Movie-watching styles. I'm a "I-didn't-hear-what-they-said-let's-rewind."- type of viewer. (I mean, what is rewind for if not that?) He is a "Let's-not-take-a-whole-hour-to-watch-an-hour-show"- type of viewer.
These two types can clash.
So after I twice asked for a rewind to make out some mumbled dialogue... I tried really hard not to miss anything for the rest of an episode. Just the sort of thing you do to make someone happy.
As the episode came to an end and a bit of information was revealed to answer a built-up mystery and keep you hooked for next week -- I said, "I pretty-much guessed that would happen."
Mr. Burns, declared that unfair. "You can't say you predicted something after it happens. That's cheating. You have to say so before it happens, or you could claim to have predicted everything!"
This is an annoyance he has voiced before. But, I felt caught in cross hairs.
"You don't want me to talk during the program, and you don't like to pause or rewind." I figured I had him.
He smirked and said, "Well, you can interrupt to tell me a prediction!"
(Okay, but some other people hate when people do that! - namely me!)
So we mockingly bickered back and forth about TV viewing etiquette - and he tried to trump me with his sound reasoning. Until I shot back... "You know, if I have to spend the rest of my life dancing around your delicate eco-system - this just isn't going to work!!"
I thought I had him.
Then he said, "I'd prefer it if you tip-toed around my eco-system."
Smart-aleck!!
Monday, October 19, 2009
Airport Observations
I took another trip with Mr. Burns this weekend. He's making the rounds with me - making sure the people most important to him see just how fabulous I am! (at least that's my story)
The trip was great. We travel well together and just spending time together is good because he's been away for work so much lately.
So we spent some time in airports and let me tell you ... that's a fine place to find people doing stupid things!
Maybe not everyone has spent as much time in DIA as I... but I can tell you that the women's restrooms in the terminals all have the same layout. You walk in through a little curve and the first section is sinks only. You bypass the wash area to get to the toilet stalls.
That would be the blue line in this diagram.
The trip was great. We travel well together and just spending time together is good because he's been away for work so much lately.
So we spent some time in airports and let me tell you ... that's a fine place to find people doing stupid things!
Maybe not everyone has spent as much time in DIA as I... but I can tell you that the women's restrooms in the terminals all have the same layout. You walk in through a little curve and the first section is sinks only. You bypass the wash area to get to the toilet stalls.
That would be the blue line in this diagram.
Then you do your business and move on to the sinks.
I really don't see how anyone can miss this. It's pretty easy to surmise the layout the second you are in the room. There is even the benefit of mirrors to confirm that there is nothing in that first section but sinks.
I'm guessing tons of women are just looking at their feet! Those feet watching women follow the red line - walking straight in without paying attention. Then when I come out for the sinks (the orange line) I have to stand there and get all tangled up as they figure out what they missed, and head toward the toilet area! Gah! So annoying.
I wonder if I'm just more observant (and possibly more impatient). Or if it's really that tricky?
Just stay to the left going in.. and to the left again heading to the sinks and everyone stays out of every one's way!
Sheesh.
But the real annoyance was a mom in the Austin airport.
Her two kids were happily doing a little maypole dance around a group of those little line barriers... the kind where the strap retracts to inside the pole. When the TSA wants to form a nice little mouse maze - they connect the poles by pulling the strap out and sliding it onto the next pole.
Anyway, there were about 4 poles corralled, out-of-use. 
The girl was 3 or 4 and the boy was 6 or 7 years old. They played follow-the-leader and London Bridge type games. The were reasonably quiet - to the point that they weren't annoying any neighboring passengers.
All a mom could dream of. No?
Not this mom. She ceaselessly barked orders. "Don't push your brother." "Don't pull on that strap." "Don't make your sister scream." (okay that was a good one, but she wasn't screaming!) "I said, don't touch that." "Do as I say."
I couldn't believe it. Here, her kids were A) burning off energy (good for pre-boarding) B) Entertaining themselves C) Reasonably quiet D) not hurting each other and E) not damaging property. For some reason this mom couldn't see that. She just barked and barked at them.
It made me wonder if she thought she was showing off her mom skills by micro-managing her kids' every move.
I thought she was doing a good job of turning them into little neurotics!
I don't want to judge other people's parenting - but come on - this lady probably watches them sleep and then gives them pointers in the morning!! Lighten up!!!
I asked Mr. Burns to make sure I never act like that if I have kids. He promised.
Well, now I feel compelled to end on a positive note - so... ummm.... I found no offenders of my baggage claim rule. I hate it when people crowd around the baggage carousel - creating a barrier for anyone who actually SEES their bag! I say, 5- 10 feet buffer between the crowd and the carousel... so that people can actually get in and claim their bag.
We didn't have to step on anyone the whole trip! Success!
Friday, October 09, 2009
A Hypothetical Question & Something Very Good
I have a pretty large extended family, being Catholic and all. Most of my cousins are more than 15 years older than me - and only a handful of cousins in my age group. The beauty of this generational spread is the ability to learn life lessons from peers with a great deal more maturity and life experience.
My oldest cousin on my mom's side of the family is a brilliant and brilliantly witty man - married to a woman who is clever enough to keep him on his toes.
Shortly after their daughter was married, my cousin's wife posed a hypothetical question: "If you and (our daughter's husband) are both drowning... who do you want me to save?"
This question flabbergasted him. Suddenly, he was torn between being the man charged with caring for and protecting this lovely young girl for the past 25 years - and the knowledge that there was another man, whom God has chosen for her, given the same charge.
Perhaps more so, he was struck with the realization that his loving daughter's life might be affected much more dramatically from the loss of this 'new guy' than it might if he himself met an untimely demise.
It's an incredible, thought-provoking hypothetical.
Just what is love? What are you willing to sacrifice for the people you love the most? How do you determine what is best for them?
Last week, Mr. Burns shared his own realization with me. Said he; "I'm learning that I'm more concerned about your well-being than my own."
In the words of the incomparable Bridget Jones, "An excellent year's progress."
My oldest cousin on my mom's side of the family is a brilliant and brilliantly witty man - married to a woman who is clever enough to keep him on his toes.
Shortly after their daughter was married, my cousin's wife posed a hypothetical question: "If you and (our daughter's husband) are both drowning... who do you want me to save?"
This question flabbergasted him. Suddenly, he was torn between being the man charged with caring for and protecting this lovely young girl for the past 25 years - and the knowledge that there was another man, whom God has chosen for her, given the same charge.
Perhaps more so, he was struck with the realization that his loving daughter's life might be affected much more dramatically from the loss of this 'new guy' than it might if he himself met an untimely demise.
It's an incredible, thought-provoking hypothetical.
Just what is love? What are you willing to sacrifice for the people you love the most? How do you determine what is best for them?
Last week, Mr. Burns shared his own realization with me. Said he; "I'm learning that I'm more concerned about your well-being than my own."
In the words of the incomparable Bridget Jones, "An excellent year's progress."
Monday, October 05, 2009
I'm a Little Peeved at Matt Damon Right Now
Mr. Burns and I rarely see movies at the movie theatre - so last night we thought it would be a treat.
We decided to go see "The Invention of Lying", but the only available showtime was later than we wanted. So Mr. Burns suggested "The Informant" and I agreed. Neither of us knew much about the movie except for a few clips that looked funny. And we figured, it's Matt Damon - how can ya go wrong?
Yeah. If you click that link and watch the trailer... funny funny funny.
Yet, at the movie theatre, the only laugh in the whole film was provided when Damon tugged on his toupee! Seriously, for the rest of the audience too!
It's not just the lack of laughs. While the movie was interesting it was dry dry dry. Now, I love dry humor but this was mostly just uncomfortable.
It was like a dry, made for TV movie about a guy ratting out his company - except with exceptional acting.
A friend tells me this morning that it's supposed to based on a "This American Life" episode that detailed the story of this guy who worked with the FBI to take down Agri-Giant ADM. That the TAL episode was a riot and the movie was supposed be spot on.
I asked him to please go see the movie and report back - whether we just missed the point - or if the movie really does stink!
From where I stand... Matt Damon owes us $31.50 for the movie tickets, popcorn and soda.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah yes... I also wanted to share with you a lesson learned from this movie.
Damon's character, Mark Whitacre is working with the FBI to uncover a price-fixing plot in his company. Based on a true story. Whitacre is caught up in the excitement of being an informant. Whenever they reach what appears to be a dead-end, he either makes up something, or reveals information that can only hurt him worse. His wife wants to stand by him, but you start to think there is no way she can respect him.
It made me think... if my husband (presumably Mr. Burns) acted that stupidly, it would be really really hard to stand by him. I am confident that Mr. Burns is not that stupid, or arrogant, or selfish - but it was also a hard realization to think "Man, I would HAVE to leave!"
I told him so... and he said, "Thanks a lot!"
But seriously, please don't be that stupid.
We decided to go see "The Invention of Lying", but the only available showtime was later than we wanted. So Mr. Burns suggested "The Informant" and I agreed. Neither of us knew much about the movie except for a few clips that looked funny. And we figured, it's Matt Damon - how can ya go wrong?
Yeah. If you click that link and watch the trailer... funny funny funny.
Yet, at the movie theatre, the only laugh in the whole film was provided when Damon tugged on his toupee! Seriously, for the rest of the audience too!
It's not just the lack of laughs. While the movie was interesting it was dry dry dry. Now, I love dry humor but this was mostly just uncomfortable.
It was like a dry, made for TV movie about a guy ratting out his company - except with exceptional acting.
A friend tells me this morning that it's supposed to based on a "This American Life" episode that detailed the story of this guy who worked with the FBI to take down Agri-Giant ADM. That the TAL episode was a riot and the movie was supposed be spot on.
I asked him to please go see the movie and report back - whether we just missed the point - or if the movie really does stink!
From where I stand... Matt Damon owes us $31.50 for the movie tickets, popcorn and soda.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah yes... I also wanted to share with you a lesson learned from this movie.
Damon's character, Mark Whitacre is working with the FBI to uncover a price-fixing plot in his company. Based on a true story. Whitacre is caught up in the excitement of being an informant. Whenever they reach what appears to be a dead-end, he either makes up something, or reveals information that can only hurt him worse. His wife wants to stand by him, but you start to think there is no way she can respect him.
It made me think... if my husband (presumably Mr. Burns) acted that stupidly, it would be really really hard to stand by him. I am confident that Mr. Burns is not that stupid, or arrogant, or selfish - but it was also a hard realization to think "Man, I would HAVE to leave!"
I told him so... and he said, "Thanks a lot!"
But seriously, please don't be that stupid.
Friday, October 02, 2009
Awww
Thanks for checking in on me.
I'm fine, just lacking for time and inspiration.
I have updates coming soon!
I'm fine, just lacking for time and inspiration.
I have updates coming soon!
Monday, September 07, 2009
Do You Gossip?
The grocery store checkout line usually moves rather quickly, but tonight the guy in front of me held it up, trying to get his club membership discount.
I didn't mind. Every $5 counts these days. I'm happy to let him save his.
To pass the time, I glanced at the magazines stocked in the impulse purchase racks. One of them had a picture of Tori Spelling on the cover (looking fabulous) with her husband and the headline, "Tori's Loveless Marriage".
Disgusted, I looked away. But as I whiled the time, my eyes landed there again. I thought, "How do they know? Why is it anybody's business? If their marriage does have troubles, how does a headline like that help them heal? Disgusting."
I turned to the woman waiting behind me and said, "What a horrible thing to print in a headline!" and indicated the magazine.
"It's just there to sell magazines. " She replied, in agreement it seemed.
"I just won't buy those kinds of magazines." I said, then glancing at the InStyle magazine among my purchases I explained, "InStyle only photographs celebrities on the Red Carpet and at charity events, so they have permission and the stars expect it and are prepared, and can interview them properly. And features in their homes, where of course they have permission."
I moved up to have the cashier start ringing my items.
Continuing the conversation with the woman behind me, I said; "That's why I won't buy magazines like that. The one's whose pictures are all from paparazzi. I can't stand it."
The cashier chimed in, "But those are the best ones!"
Oh, I was shocked and fought the urge to slap some sense into her.
Instead I said, "If they're at an event and can expect to be photographed it's one thing. But to stalk them outside their homes when they're just taking the kids out for ice cream... it's just not right. "
I hoped I had made my point.
But I doubted that I had, so I added, "I guess because I'm a trained journalist I find it that much more despicable."
The cashier gave up, but I sparked an interest in the woman behind me, with whom I had started the conversation.
Now she wanted to know who I worked for and stressed the importance of Journalism.
That was so good to hear in this day and age, where respect for journalists is lower than that of used car salesmen and ambulance chasing attorneys.
The woman behind me lifted me up a little. And while I was frustrated to know one more person (the cashier) loves those trashy rags, it was good to know there is one more person in America who understands the value of journalism - and how to tell a hoax from a real journalist.
One point for the rank and file.
I didn't mind. Every $5 counts these days. I'm happy to let him save his.
To pass the time, I glanced at the magazines stocked in the impulse purchase racks. One of them had a picture of Tori Spelling on the cover (looking fabulous) with her husband and the headline, "Tori's Loveless Marriage".
Disgusted, I looked away. But as I whiled the time, my eyes landed there again. I thought, "How do they know? Why is it anybody's business? If their marriage does have troubles, how does a headline like that help them heal? Disgusting."
I turned to the woman waiting behind me and said, "What a horrible thing to print in a headline!" and indicated the magazine.
"It's just there to sell magazines. " She replied, in agreement it seemed.
"I just won't buy those kinds of magazines." I said, then glancing at the InStyle magazine among my purchases I explained, "InStyle only photographs celebrities on the Red Carpet and at charity events, so they have permission and the stars expect it and are prepared, and can interview them properly. And features in their homes, where of course they have permission."
I moved up to have the cashier start ringing my items.
Continuing the conversation with the woman behind me, I said; "That's why I won't buy magazines like that. The one's whose pictures are all from paparazzi. I can't stand it."
The cashier chimed in, "But those are the best ones!"
Oh, I was shocked and fought the urge to slap some sense into her.
Instead I said, "If they're at an event and can expect to be photographed it's one thing. But to stalk them outside their homes when they're just taking the kids out for ice cream... it's just not right. "
I hoped I had made my point.
But I doubted that I had, so I added, "I guess because I'm a trained journalist I find it that much more despicable."
The cashier gave up, but I sparked an interest in the woman behind me, with whom I had started the conversation.
Now she wanted to know who I worked for and stressed the importance of Journalism.
That was so good to hear in this day and age, where respect for journalists is lower than that of used car salesmen and ambulance chasing attorneys.
The woman behind me lifted me up a little. And while I was frustrated to know one more person (the cashier) loves those trashy rags, it was good to know there is one more person in America who understands the value of journalism - and how to tell a hoax from a real journalist.
One point for the rank and file.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Playing for Another Team
Many years ago I moved into a cute little apartment building in a charming neighborhood, just two blocks away from the Catholic Cathedral in that city. I was thrilled to start attending the Cathedral, as it is a beautiful church.
A few months later, I saw a notice for people interested in a young adult group at the Cathedral and went to it's very first meeting. There I met a guy who instantly became a friend. I remember that upon that first meeting I thought he was kind of cute, but wondered if he was gay.
We started spending time together within a week. First a bike ride. Maybe a movie. But never dating.
He lived just blocks from me and the Cathedral, in the cutest little Craftsman style house. It was easy for us to get together, and we enjoyed many of the same things.
He had a love for architecture that drew out the same in me. By associating with him, I finally started to understand why I loved what I loved about buildings and houses. I learned the names of certain features and styles.
We both loved everything from the same era. I'd found someone to troll antique stores with.
When my friends met him, they'd ask if he was gay. Because I knew about his interests and attractions - which indicated he was straight - I would say so.
I moved away... and in our communication he shared sometimes that people asked him if he was gay and how frustrated he was by that.
My gay friends met him and declared him, "In the Closet"!
Hearing his frustrations with dating I often thought how much easier it would be for him if he were gay. I've known him for 12 years now and have never known him to date anybody. I've only heard about his frustrations in his pursuit of women.
A few days ago, I noticed his Faceb00k status had changed to 'in a relationship'.
What is this? I asked. Who is this? What is new?
He responded that he had changed teams a year ago and was now dating a really great guy.
I am so relieved and happy for him!
Another friend asked how I reconcile that with my Catholic faith. I know that the Church views Homosexuality as a sin. But I'm not thinking about bedroom activity. I am focused on my friend having a successful, loving relationship that makes him happy. That's what we all want.
I focus more on the Christian duty of loving my neighbor. Of loving my friend and being a friend. God has not put me here to judge. Our Lord will take care of that at the pearly gates. And I feel pretty strongly that since God made my friend, God will understand.
And I'm more concerned about God's view of how I treat those I come to know and care about. I doubt that scorning my friend will win favor with God.
And quite frankly, I'm much happier for my friend finding someone who loves and accepts him- than if he had entered into a marriage denying his authentic self - and deceiving a woman who likely signed up for a heterosexual marriage and all that entails.
How do you reconcile your faith with loving and accepting your friends?
A few months later, I saw a notice for people interested in a young adult group at the Cathedral and went to it's very first meeting. There I met a guy who instantly became a friend. I remember that upon that first meeting I thought he was kind of cute, but wondered if he was gay.
We started spending time together within a week. First a bike ride. Maybe a movie. But never dating.
He lived just blocks from me and the Cathedral, in the cutest little Craftsman style house. It was easy for us to get together, and we enjoyed many of the same things.
He had a love for architecture that drew out the same in me. By associating with him, I finally started to understand why I loved what I loved about buildings and houses. I learned the names of certain features and styles.
We both loved everything from the same era. I'd found someone to troll antique stores with.
When my friends met him, they'd ask if he was gay. Because I knew about his interests and attractions - which indicated he was straight - I would say so.
I moved away... and in our communication he shared sometimes that people asked him if he was gay and how frustrated he was by that.
My gay friends met him and declared him, "In the Closet"!
Hearing his frustrations with dating I often thought how much easier it would be for him if he were gay. I've known him for 12 years now and have never known him to date anybody. I've only heard about his frustrations in his pursuit of women.
A few days ago, I noticed his Faceb00k status had changed to 'in a relationship'.
What is this? I asked. Who is this? What is new?
He responded that he had changed teams a year ago and was now dating a really great guy.
I am so relieved and happy for him!
Another friend asked how I reconcile that with my Catholic faith. I know that the Church views Homosexuality as a sin. But I'm not thinking about bedroom activity. I am focused on my friend having a successful, loving relationship that makes him happy. That's what we all want.
I focus more on the Christian duty of loving my neighbor. Of loving my friend and being a friend. God has not put me here to judge. Our Lord will take care of that at the pearly gates. And I feel pretty strongly that since God made my friend, God will understand.
And I'm more concerned about God's view of how I treat those I come to know and care about. I doubt that scorning my friend will win favor with God.
And quite frankly, I'm much happier for my friend finding someone who loves and accepts him- than if he had entered into a marriage denying his authentic self - and deceiving a woman who likely signed up for a heterosexual marriage and all that entails.
How do you reconcile your faith with loving and accepting your friends?
Friday, August 21, 2009
Careful What You Ask For
I'm not liking most of the stuff that age is doing to my body. Primarily, the poochy tummy that is distorting my other-wise slender figure. Sometimes I think I must look like a snake that swallowed a badger!Now, if I could just commit to doing abdominal exercises and laying off the carbs - I could probably whittle it away in no time. But I know that I lack the discipline to do so.
A few weeks ago, I began praying that God would give me the discipline I need. That I could dedicate myself to some crunches... and that I could resist the bread and sugary snacks that I love.
I told Mr. Burns that I asked God to help me resist carbs and Mr. Burns said, "Careful what you pray for!"
As for bread - I just don't buy any. If it doesn't come in my house I won't eat it. Instead I buy English Muffins to use as buns for my soy burgers, portabello burgers and even my breakfast sausage. For some reason, I won't scarf down English Muffins plain like I do those slices of wheat bread!
But sugar! Oh mercy do I love me some candy!
On Monday nights I cover City Council meetings which can last anywhere from 2 hours to 12! The longest I've covered was just over 4 hours.
I am a nibbler, so before the meeting starts I scout out the candy machines in the hallway and drop a few quarters for a handful or two of Hot Tamales and some Pistachios. I figure the Pistachios are healthy.
The candy machines only take quarters. On days that I only had nickels and dimes in my wallet I figured out that if I drop them in the soda machine - and hit the change return - the machine would exchange them for quarters. Success! And a Hot Tamales fix.
So this week, I had just emptied my coin purse without thinking before I went to work. Drat! No change at all.
I smugly pulled a dollar bill from my wallet, fed it to the soda machine and then heard the plink plunk in the change return. 20 nickels!!
I raised my face heavenward and said, "Very funny Lord. Way to keep me from the candy!"
Monday, August 17, 2009
On the Edge - Not Over
(sorry friends, I'm having trouble loading the pictures I want to this post - I'll try again tomorrow)
(no luck. is anyone else having trouble placing pictures in their post?)
(no luck. is anyone else having trouble placing pictures in their post?)
I managed to visit two of our country's National Parks this past weekend. Arches and Canyonlands near Moab, Utah. I loved it. So completely beautiful and awe inspiring.
I don't know for sure who Wallace Stegner is but I agree with his sentiment;
I don't know for sure who Wallace Stegner is but I agree with his sentiment;
"National Parks are the best idea we ever had. Absolutely American, absolutely
democratic, they reflect us as our best rather than our worst."
It is amazing what you can learn when you are completely immersed in nature. Sure, when it comes to how those glorious arches were formed you learn about geology, erosion, the effects of time.
It was our venture to see Canyonlands that I learned something about someone who loves me.
Mr. Burns, his sister and I went for the weekend. She was visiting from their home state. Once we were in Canyonlands and we all got out of the car to take in a view of the jagged cliffs and rocks jutting out from miles below - she couldn't avoid her fear of heights. She explained a tingly, eebie jeebies feeling that runs down the back of her legs.
I just cannot relate to a fear of heights. I've heard people talk about the feeling of vertigo when encountering heights or in this case, depths below them. But seeing as I am a person who LOVES heights, I can't really understand. Actually, to me - it seems like an irrational fear. As long as you have good footing - how is it scary?
As comedian Steven Wright used to say; "I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of widths."
Much more logical to me.
I learned that Mr. Burns shares this fear with his sister. He is fine as long as there is something to support him... like a railing, or a safety cage, or a secure rope. Something firmly placed between him and splat.
I - on the other hand - am so unafraid of heights that it can be dangerous. I once had the privilege of standing atop the presidential heads of Mount Rushmore. I kept wandering to the front of one face with my camera and at one point the park ranger tied a rope around my waist! I thought he was teasing, being overly dramatic.
It wasn't until we were working our way back down the rear of the carving, and someone pointed out where I had been standing... (below Abe's hairline) that I realized why the park ranger was concerned.
I do have a pretty good grip on my limitations. And realistically, if it had been that dangerous, the ranger would have foregone the rope and just told me to get my butt back where it belongs! (it's not like they can risk loss of life on their watch! He's not going to risk his job for my whim.)
Not only am I unafraid of heights, I'm attracted to them. I love to be on the edge and I'm a bit of a mountain goat.
When I was kid, I climbed the grain bins on our farm. Any time there was a ladder propped against anything - any building - I was at the top of it.
So when viewing the canyons from the fence along the viewing platform didn't really do it for me - I wandered over to an open vista.
The dramatic view was irresistible so I set my camera on my backpack, used the self-timer and snapped this shot.
When I turned back, I found Mr. Burns standing a few yards behind, on the sidewalk with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.
I smiled and said, "See. I'm alive. I didn't fall."
He was not amused.
I reminded him that I'm not afraid. It's no big deal.
He told me that whether I am afraid or not, the danger is real.
I disagreed. I know the limits.
He explained that if I fell, and found myself hanging onto that proverbial daisy, like in cartoons - he would not be able to go after me, and then he would look like a jerk!
But it was when he said that now he knew what it must feel like to see your child get hurt or in a place of danger - that I realized he really does love me.
There he was, torn between his fear of danger and his desire to keep me safe.
It was our venture to see Canyonlands that I learned something about someone who loves me.
Mr. Burns, his sister and I went for the weekend. She was visiting from their home state. Once we were in Canyonlands and we all got out of the car to take in a view of the jagged cliffs and rocks jutting out from miles below - she couldn't avoid her fear of heights. She explained a tingly, eebie jeebies feeling that runs down the back of her legs.
I just cannot relate to a fear of heights. I've heard people talk about the feeling of vertigo when encountering heights or in this case, depths below them. But seeing as I am a person who LOVES heights, I can't really understand. Actually, to me - it seems like an irrational fear. As long as you have good footing - how is it scary?
As comedian Steven Wright used to say; "I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of widths."
Much more logical to me.
I learned that Mr. Burns shares this fear with his sister. He is fine as long as there is something to support him... like a railing, or a safety cage, or a secure rope. Something firmly placed between him and splat.
I - on the other hand - am so unafraid of heights that it can be dangerous. I once had the privilege of standing atop the presidential heads of Mount Rushmore. I kept wandering to the front of one face with my camera and at one point the park ranger tied a rope around my waist! I thought he was teasing, being overly dramatic.
It wasn't until we were working our way back down the rear of the carving, and someone pointed out where I had been standing... (below Abe's hairline) that I realized why the park ranger was concerned.
I do have a pretty good grip on my limitations. And realistically, if it had been that dangerous, the ranger would have foregone the rope and just told me to get my butt back where it belongs! (it's not like they can risk loss of life on their watch! He's not going to risk his job for my whim.)
Not only am I unafraid of heights, I'm attracted to them. I love to be on the edge and I'm a bit of a mountain goat.
When I was kid, I climbed the grain bins on our farm. Any time there was a ladder propped against anything - any building - I was at the top of it.
So when viewing the canyons from the fence along the viewing platform didn't really do it for me - I wandered over to an open vista.
The dramatic view was irresistible so I set my camera on my backpack, used the self-timer and snapped this shot.
When I turned back, I found Mr. Burns standing a few yards behind, on the sidewalk with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.
I smiled and said, "See. I'm alive. I didn't fall."
He was not amused.
I reminded him that I'm not afraid. It's no big deal.
He told me that whether I am afraid or not, the danger is real.
I disagreed. I know the limits.
He explained that if I fell, and found myself hanging onto that proverbial daisy, like in cartoons - he would not be able to go after me, and then he would look like a jerk!
But it was when he said that now he knew what it must feel like to see your child get hurt or in a place of danger - that I realized he really does love me.
There he was, torn between his fear of danger and his desire to keep me safe.
It's good to know.
I don't like putting him in that position. But I don't see how I can stay away from the edge. It's one of the few thrills in my life. He'll just have to look away.
I don't like putting him in that position. But I don't see how I can stay away from the edge. It's one of the few thrills in my life. He'll just have to look away.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Bloggy Friends!
I'm so honored that the funny, talented and creative Katie asked me to be a part of Blogger to Blogger this week. It's Katie's feature in which we interview each other.Don't you love the outfit see made for me?
Go here to see our 'interview'.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Miles Away But Within Arms' Reach
I feel like I'm losing touch with some of my old friends.
You see. I have two kinds of friends. Some who, like me, have moved and moved and moved - if not all over the country - then from city to city. These are the friends who keep in touch the best because we all know the importance of maintaining old friendships. Yes, we can make new friends in our new cities, but there is nothing like an old friend who loves you over the miles.
The others are friends who have lived in one city their whole lives. I'm the one who moved away so the onus is on me to maintain contact. Otherwise - out of sight-out of mind.
Within the stay-put friends, there is another category of those who have married and had children. This single girl in the city just isn't on their radar anymore. It hurts.
I've been thinking about all these weddings I have attended - and I can't recall the part of the vows that says "I vow to forget about all our single friends. Only you and I exist now."
I promise you I have never heard that part in a marriage ceremony, yet it seems to be true for all. Maybe only the married people can hear it!
A few months ago - one of those married with children friends insisted that I join F&ceb00k. It's such a great way to stay in touch she said.
It was... for a while. Now she hardly even updates her status. She never comments on mine. But most serious, she doesn't call or email me anymore - nor does she respond to my calls and emails.
The Internet creates an illusion that we are so very connected to all of our friends. But it's actually a disservice. It is just an illusion. Now that we have daily peeks into our friends worlds - we don't bother to make the phone call. Or plan for a visit.
It's been bothering me a lot lately - so I said just that on my F&ceb00k status today.
The first response back was from a former co-worker, now 700 miles away from me who lost his 6-month-old son last week. They woke up one morning and found him dead in his crib. The funeral was today.
He read what I had to say... and here is his response...
If not for the Internet, I would not even know how much this old friend is hurting and I would not have even known to send a card of condolence. But through this faceless technology, I have been able to offer tiny, meager words of support - and they mean more to him than I can possibly know.
A blessing and a curse; this technology. We should all use it wisely. Support our friends in simple ways but never forget that hearing their voice or lending a shoulder is worth more than every communication in your tw!tter account combined.
People are flesh and blood and feelings. 1100011000010000111100001010 's can never replace that.
You see. I have two kinds of friends. Some who, like me, have moved and moved and moved - if not all over the country - then from city to city. These are the friends who keep in touch the best because we all know the importance of maintaining old friendships. Yes, we can make new friends in our new cities, but there is nothing like an old friend who loves you over the miles.
The others are friends who have lived in one city their whole lives. I'm the one who moved away so the onus is on me to maintain contact. Otherwise - out of sight-out of mind.
Within the stay-put friends, there is another category of those who have married and had children. This single girl in the city just isn't on their radar anymore. It hurts.
I've been thinking about all these weddings I have attended - and I can't recall the part of the vows that says "I vow to forget about all our single friends. Only you and I exist now."
I promise you I have never heard that part in a marriage ceremony, yet it seems to be true for all. Maybe only the married people can hear it!
A few months ago - one of those married with children friends insisted that I join F&ceb00k. It's such a great way to stay in touch she said.
It was... for a while. Now she hardly even updates her status. She never comments on mine. But most serious, she doesn't call or email me anymore - nor does she respond to my calls and emails.
The Internet creates an illusion that we are so very connected to all of our friends. But it's actually a disservice. It is just an illusion. Now that we have daily peeks into our friends worlds - we don't bother to make the phone call. Or plan for a visit.
It's been bothering me a lot lately - so I said just that on my F&ceb00k status today.
The first response back was from a former co-worker, now 700 miles away from me who lost his 6-month-old son last week. They woke up one morning and found him dead in his crib. The funeral was today.
He read what I had to say... and here is his response...
You are wrong. I am so grateful to have this network. I have reconnected with many friends I had completely lost contact with, and it has helped me through this tragic time in my life. I was holed up in my room...unable to talk or see anyone. Yet I could read my friends comments and feel loved and take comfort in it.I think both perspectives are true.
If not for the Internet, I would not even know how much this old friend is hurting and I would not have even known to send a card of condolence. But through this faceless technology, I have been able to offer tiny, meager words of support - and they mean more to him than I can possibly know.
A blessing and a curse; this technology. We should all use it wisely. Support our friends in simple ways but never forget that hearing their voice or lending a shoulder is worth more than every communication in your tw!tter account combined.
People are flesh and blood and feelings. 1100011000010000111100001010 's can never replace that.
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