If you ask me...
Today, as with any tragedy, it's not about why the events took place in Connecticut.
If you ask me, it's not a matter of why lawmakers didn't prevent this, why God let this happen, or why friends, family, or mental health professionals didn't see this coming.
If you ask me, it's not about politics, religion, guns, social media, music, video games, journalism, laws, health care, the economy, or anything else being blamed or used to try to explain it.
If you ask me, it's about mourning the lives lost and grieving for those whose lives have been horrifically and permanently altered.
If you ask me, we should pray or meditate or send out positive energy in whichever way we choose. Or, you should go about your daily routine if that's what works for you. We should be grateful we have those options.
If you ask me, we should let our kids know we love them even more than we usually do.
If you ask me, we should recognize that it's about those who are suffering today. It's not about you or me. Theories and debates can wait until tomorrow.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Christmas Newsletter to Dad 2012
Hi, Daddy!
I'm sure you've been keeping an eye on things (the way a dad always does), but I wanted to make sure you hadn't missed anything since I wrote to you last year. I actually started this note over the weekend because I had a number of things come to mind that I wanted to get down before I forgot them. (I may have to start a special notebook just to write things down for you!) I know, I know...I didn't write enough letters when I first moved away from home (or since then). I still don't send letters or notes or even many cards to people. But you deserve one. (And this way, nobody has to suffer through trying to read my handwriting.)
Unfortunately, there are a few more familiar faces with you this year. I imagine B, J's mom, looked you up when she got there. You might be able to play a few hands of cards with your old friend V. Or maybe relax by an outdoor fireplace with S, the neighbor "boy." I think you met my dear friend C once or twice. Her mother passed the end of last month. Be sure to introduce yourself to D. You can swap stories about your daughters with each other, and with K's mother, J, who's been there for some time. While you're making the rounds up there, could you also stop in at three particular guardian angels and put in a good word for C, J, and T, all of whom had surgery recently? (Sorry about all these initials! I know you know who I'm talking about, but I don't want to broadcast too much of their business all over the place.)
But the year wasn't all bad. Can you believe that you're a great-grandpa?! Twice in the same week, no less! They're practically twins. ;-) The next generation of our family has officially begun. Guess that means my boy isn't the "baby" of the family any more!
Speaking of my boy... Did you catch his concert last week? Pretty excellent, if I do say so myself! Sure, I'm biased. But it was truly amazing and enjoyable. I may never know what it's like to be a dad like you, but it's moments like these that really make me feel like a mom, and a proud one at that. He's a lot older than he used to be, if you know what I mean. He's got his temps, finally. We haven't been out practicing as much as we probably should, but we'll get there. We've got his senior pictures, too. Nobody in the family has seen them yet; we've got to give them as part of a Christmas present like we always do. I actually did let J see some of the online proofs. One of the poses had an expression that made him look a lot like his uncle. Sometimes it's easy to see the family resemblance among all of us. And would you believe he's taken up curling?! Talk about family resemblance! This is the first year the school has had a team, and they play in a weekly high-school league. Fun to watch, though they've only had two matches so far.
We finally got a new car last winter (though there wasn't much wintry weather until now). After like 13 years and it starting to show its age, we finally broke down (figuratively) and bought one before we literally broke down. It's a cute little car. I've even driven it a few times to visit Mom and done just fine. Yes, I keep one eye on the weather and the other eye watching for deer. (Hmm...I keep an eye on the road, too. Good thing I'm a "four-eyes"!)
I had my 30-year class reunion this summer. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Lots of familiar faces, though in a few cases I was glad we were wearing name tags. I even got to chat with a guy from grade school who remembered exactly were we lived, especially because he had helped you and Mom get unstuck in the driveway one time during a snowstorm. I remember hearing the story, but I'd no idea who it was that had helped you. I guess you never know whose path you'll cross in your hometown.
One thing I bet you don't miss is election season. This was a particularly intense year! The robocalls with recorded messages seemed endless. Thank goodness for an answering machine, and thank goodness it's done, at least for the time being.
December could be an interesting month. December 12 has been proclaimed "Aaron Rodgers Day" in Wisconsin. You know, 'cuz he wears number 12...and today is 12/12/12. Yeah. We do love our Packers! Keep an eye out for more green and gold than is usual on a Wednesday. And some people think the world is going to end on December 21 because of some Mayan calendar or something. It's become sort of a joke, like you don't need to buy Christmas gifts because the world will end by then. I'm sure you're all getting a good chuckle at that.
I don't have our artificial tree up yet, but I did put up a few lights. Nothing complicated, but it certainly does add some holiday cheer to the outside of the house. I'm pretty sure Mom said J is going to put Santa up on her front door. That's got to be at least as old as I am, right? It's definitely part of what made it feel like Christmas when I was a kid...and it still does. Wouldn't be a bit surprised if people who drive by the house have grown to expect it, too. Our tree, of course, uses the little lights these days. I kind of miss the look of the old-fashioned big bulbs. I remember eyeing up the tree after you'd strung the lights and "deciding" there were too many green ones by that branch, or no red ones on one side. You were a good sport (and a good dad), taking out a hankie so as not to burn your fingers and swapping colored bulbs until we thought it was "just right."
So...those are what you might call the "highlights" of the last year. It would have been better to share them with you in person. (I know you were never much for talking on the phone. Mother and I talk enough to make up for it!) But you know that out of sight in no way means out of mind. You're still thought of and talked about (in a good way!) often. The last two years haven't been the same without you, but life isn't always supposed to be about staying the "same." Things change...they always have...and they always will.
Think I'll go listen to some Christmas music now. B's birthday was last week, so I figured you wouldn't mind. And when I'm checking the sky for Rudolph on Christmas Eve, I promise I "won't breathe." ;-)
Love you, Daddy. Stay with the group!
3/3/32 - 12/12/10
I'm sure you've been keeping an eye on things (the way a dad always does), but I wanted to make sure you hadn't missed anything since I wrote to you last year. I actually started this note over the weekend because I had a number of things come to mind that I wanted to get down before I forgot them. (I may have to start a special notebook just to write things down for you!) I know, I know...I didn't write enough letters when I first moved away from home (or since then). I still don't send letters or notes or even many cards to people. But you deserve one. (And this way, nobody has to suffer through trying to read my handwriting.)
Unfortunately, there are a few more familiar faces with you this year. I imagine B, J's mom, looked you up when she got there. You might be able to play a few hands of cards with your old friend V. Or maybe relax by an outdoor fireplace with S, the neighbor "boy." I think you met my dear friend C once or twice. Her mother passed the end of last month. Be sure to introduce yourself to D. You can swap stories about your daughters with each other, and with K's mother, J, who's been there for some time. While you're making the rounds up there, could you also stop in at three particular guardian angels and put in a good word for C, J, and T, all of whom had surgery recently? (Sorry about all these initials! I know you know who I'm talking about, but I don't want to broadcast too much of their business all over the place.)
But the year wasn't all bad. Can you believe that you're a great-grandpa?! Twice in the same week, no less! They're practically twins. ;-) The next generation of our family has officially begun. Guess that means my boy isn't the "baby" of the family any more!
Speaking of my boy... Did you catch his concert last week? Pretty excellent, if I do say so myself! Sure, I'm biased. But it was truly amazing and enjoyable. I may never know what it's like to be a dad like you, but it's moments like these that really make me feel like a mom, and a proud one at that. He's a lot older than he used to be, if you know what I mean. He's got his temps, finally. We haven't been out practicing as much as we probably should, but we'll get there. We've got his senior pictures, too. Nobody in the family has seen them yet; we've got to give them as part of a Christmas present like we always do. I actually did let J see some of the online proofs. One of the poses had an expression that made him look a lot like his uncle. Sometimes it's easy to see the family resemblance among all of us. And would you believe he's taken up curling?! Talk about family resemblance! This is the first year the school has had a team, and they play in a weekly high-school league. Fun to watch, though they've only had two matches so far.
We finally got a new car last winter (though there wasn't much wintry weather until now). After like 13 years and it starting to show its age, we finally broke down (figuratively) and bought one before we literally broke down. It's a cute little car. I've even driven it a few times to visit Mom and done just fine. Yes, I keep one eye on the weather and the other eye watching for deer. (Hmm...I keep an eye on the road, too. Good thing I'm a "four-eyes"!)
I had my 30-year class reunion this summer. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Lots of familiar faces, though in a few cases I was glad we were wearing name tags. I even got to chat with a guy from grade school who remembered exactly were we lived, especially because he had helped you and Mom get unstuck in the driveway one time during a snowstorm. I remember hearing the story, but I'd no idea who it was that had helped you. I guess you never know whose path you'll cross in your hometown.
One thing I bet you don't miss is election season. This was a particularly intense year! The robocalls with recorded messages seemed endless. Thank goodness for an answering machine, and thank goodness it's done, at least for the time being.
December could be an interesting month. December 12 has been proclaimed "Aaron Rodgers Day" in Wisconsin. You know, 'cuz he wears number 12...and today is 12/12/12. Yeah. We do love our Packers! Keep an eye out for more green and gold than is usual on a Wednesday. And some people think the world is going to end on December 21 because of some Mayan calendar or something. It's become sort of a joke, like you don't need to buy Christmas gifts because the world will end by then. I'm sure you're all getting a good chuckle at that.
I don't have our artificial tree up yet, but I did put up a few lights. Nothing complicated, but it certainly does add some holiday cheer to the outside of the house. I'm pretty sure Mom said J is going to put Santa up on her front door. That's got to be at least as old as I am, right? It's definitely part of what made it feel like Christmas when I was a kid...and it still does. Wouldn't be a bit surprised if people who drive by the house have grown to expect it, too. Our tree, of course, uses the little lights these days. I kind of miss the look of the old-fashioned big bulbs. I remember eyeing up the tree after you'd strung the lights and "deciding" there were too many green ones by that branch, or no red ones on one side. You were a good sport (and a good dad), taking out a hankie so as not to burn your fingers and swapping colored bulbs until we thought it was "just right."
So...those are what you might call the "highlights" of the last year. It would have been better to share them with you in person. (I know you were never much for talking on the phone. Mother and I talk enough to make up for it!) But you know that out of sight in no way means out of mind. You're still thought of and talked about (in a good way!) often. The last two years haven't been the same without you, but life isn't always supposed to be about staying the "same." Things change...they always have...and they always will.
Think I'll go listen to some Christmas music now. B's birthday was last week, so I figured you wouldn't mind. And when I'm checking the sky for Rudolph on Christmas Eve, I promise I "won't breathe." ;-)
Love you, Daddy. Stay with the group!
3/3/32 - 12/12/10
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Be Thankful
Had a lovely Thanksgiving dinner tonight. Turkey, roast beef, and of course, green bean casserole. Food with family, friends back home...certainly reasons to be thankful.
I know some people have been updating their daily Facebook status with something for which they are grateful. Other people follow a tradition of taking turns at the the dinner table sharing what makes them thankful. TV movies often have a touching moment where the main character gives a tender speech about how the past year has been so blessed. But do we need anything so grand? We are often so quick to complain about politics or the weather, gas prices or a sports score. Life is full of "could-a, would-a, should-a." Our lives might not be what we dreamed of as children, but take an honest look at your surroundings. And then compare your life to people on the East Coast recently, or to those in a war-torn country, or to someone just down the street from you.
Are your eyes open? (Obviously, if you're reading this.) Is your heart beating?
Be thankful.
Are you sleeping under a roof tonight?
Be thankful.
Did you talk to someone else today, either face-to-face or on the phone, or even electronically?
Be thankful.
Did you eat something today? Maybe a big turkey dinner, or maybe just a sandwich?
Be thankful.
Did you have a glass of water, maybe even coffee, soda, or a cocktail?
Be thankful.
Is there a light on where you are? Maybe even multiple electronic devices?
Be thankful.
Did something or someone make you smile today?
Be thankful.
Do you have more than one or two items of clothing in your closet and dresser?
Be thankful.
Do you expect to be around tomorrow?
Be thankful.
Things go wrong sometimes. There are circumstances beyond our control. And at other times, we make mistakes. But that's what life is like. It's a jumble of good, bad, and ugly.
But we had today. And for that, I must always remember to be thankful.
Happy Thanksgiving!
I know some people have been updating their daily Facebook status with something for which they are grateful. Other people follow a tradition of taking turns at the the dinner table sharing what makes them thankful. TV movies often have a touching moment where the main character gives a tender speech about how the past year has been so blessed. But do we need anything so grand? We are often so quick to complain about politics or the weather, gas prices or a sports score. Life is full of "could-a, would-a, should-a." Our lives might not be what we dreamed of as children, but take an honest look at your surroundings. And then compare your life to people on the East Coast recently, or to those in a war-torn country, or to someone just down the street from you.
Are your eyes open? (Obviously, if you're reading this.) Is your heart beating?
Be thankful.
Are you sleeping under a roof tonight?
Be thankful.
Did you talk to someone else today, either face-to-face or on the phone, or even electronically?
Be thankful.
Did you eat something today? Maybe a big turkey dinner, or maybe just a sandwich?
Be thankful.
Did you have a glass of water, maybe even coffee, soda, or a cocktail?
Be thankful.
Is there a light on where you are? Maybe even multiple electronic devices?
Be thankful.
Did something or someone make you smile today?
Be thankful.
Do you have more than one or two items of clothing in your closet and dresser?
Be thankful.
Do you expect to be around tomorrow?
Be thankful.
Things go wrong sometimes. There are circumstances beyond our control. And at other times, we make mistakes. But that's what life is like. It's a jumble of good, bad, and ugly.
But we had today. And for that, I must always remember to be thankful.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 15, 2012
They're Grrrreat!
Well, how 'bout that? I'm a great-aunt! Not once, but twice...in the same week! Extra cool when you consider that the mothers are twin sisters.
But wait a minute. Aren't great-aunts old? I didn't know any of mine very well. I'd see most of them once or twice a year. The ones "in town" maybe more often. But when I was young, it wasn't easy trying to remember who was who. Which side, Mom's or Dad's? Then--again--which side, Grandma's or Grandpa's? Then add their spouses to the mix... But I seem to remember that they were almost always referred to as a couple. You couldn't mention one without naming the other.
For me, it's another one of those life milestones. It's one thing when your siblings start having kids. I remember how excited I was to be an aunt as a college freshman! But when those kids start having kids of their own, it's a whole new ballgame. No more denying that the "little kids" are all full-fledged adults. The family tree keeps branching out.
One thing I know for sure if I want to be a great great-aunt (well, two things): I'd better learn how to play Sheepshead and it may be time to give my hair a blue rinse!
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
What I Hate About Elections
I believe that voting is a right that many Americans take for granted. I know that I haven't always taken it as seriously as I should. Even though it can seem like my single vote can't possibly have much impact, it would be disastrous if everyone felt that way and just stayed home on election day. Can you even imagine what it would be like to not have a say in how your country is governed? To just have to accept whatever those in power decide? *shakes head*
Our government is far from perfect. There can be little disagreement on that. We, as private citizens, can simply get involved to the best of our ability and support elected officials who want the same things for our nation as we do. Though I surely don't need to remind anyone, please get out and vote!
That being said, election time can certainly get on one's nerves. I don't want to minimize its importance, but the season lasts even longer than the retail industry's Christmas shopping season (and that seemed to start even before all the back-to-school supplies were off the shelves). I'll be glad that tomorrow, barring any hanging chads, we'll have an idea of the direction our country will be taking during the next four years. That's the big thing. But I must admit that I'll be similarly pleased that the trappings of the season will be done.
Our government is far from perfect. There can be little disagreement on that. We, as private citizens, can simply get involved to the best of our ability and support elected officials who want the same things for our nation as we do. Though I surely don't need to remind anyone, please get out and vote!
That being said, election time can certainly get on one's nerves. I don't want to minimize its importance, but the season lasts even longer than the retail industry's Christmas shopping season (and that seemed to start even before all the back-to-school supplies were off the shelves). I'll be glad that tomorrow, barring any hanging chads, we'll have an idea of the direction our country will be taking during the next four years. That's the big thing. But I must admit that I'll be similarly pleased that the trappings of the season will be done.
- Robocalls: Surely one of the most hated marketing tools, if only for their frequency. Unfortunately, live callers don't score much higher in my book. Thank goodness for an answering machine and for caller ID. A phone call is not in any way going to influence my decision. Trust me: Don't call us. We'll call you.
- Mailers: This is usually just a waste of paper. I'm not saying that all mailed advertisements are useless. But if I see it's candidate-related, I'm likely to toss it without reading it. When I skim them, I usually see only exaggerations and half-truths. Sure, there are footnotes proving the source of the statistics. But we all know that facts can be manipulated and "spun" to make your point.
- TV Ads: Let's pull the image of our candidate at his best and the other guy at his worst. Then let's add an out-of-context sound bite. Ads can certainly bring issues to our attention and prompt us to look for more impartial information. But just like a single commercial isn't going to determine how I spend my money on a major purchase, I'm not going to cast my vote based on which ad I like best.
- The "Other" Guy: Speaking of ads... It seems to me that the majority of ads I see and hear try to make me aware of everything "the other guy" did. (And, of course, I include female candidates, as well. In this case, "guy" does not refer to either gender in particular.) He voted against this! She supported this action! They don't care about what you want! How about you tell me what you have done and why? What do you want to accomplish?
- Hatred: I think Candidate X is best. You prefer Candidate Y. Fair enough. Perhaps we can discuss why we hold those opinions, though neither is likely to change their mind. You are all welcome to post a status, hang a sign, cheer at a rally, or wear a t-shirt reflecting your choice. Just remember that every other citizen has the same right. Name-calling, bullying, and insulting are uncalled for and childish. When you spout venom, it really reflects the worst on you.
- Premature Results: I check in periodically on election results. It's interesting to see the trends and how they can change throughout the evening. But my biggest pet peeve is when the media starts "calling it" so early in the night. Can you really determine the outcome with, say, 10 percent of the vote counted? Really? Perhaps historically those early returns are indicative of the final result. But I'd rather just see the actual numbers and wait to hear the winner's name when it's definite.
In spite of all the negatives I associate with elections, I tolerate them for the greater good. Voting is a right and a privilege. I am proud to be an American, and I am proud to have voted today.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
I'd Rather Have Bacon
You've probably heard of "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon." As defined by Wikipedia (a valid enough source for this type of information), virtually any actor can by linked through their film roles to Kevin Bacon in six or fewer steps. There are games and apps that allow you to type in an actor's name to determine their "Bacon Number" (the number of steps to link them). It's an amusing way to pass the time, and Bacon has a charitable organization based on the idea.
It doesn't take six degrees to link to breast cancer. Four women I know have the disease. Well, that I'm aware of. There are likely more within a step or two. I hope none feel that I'm invading their privacy by sharing some general information about their lives. I'm not naming names. And it's not as if I have an audience of thousands. I just recently realized that it's something that touches more people than I'd imagined.
One is the wife of a former employer. She underwent treatment several years ago and is doing fine now. Two degrees. One is the mother of a dear friend. She suffered through treatment, but the cancer returned and has spread. The prognosis is not good. Two degrees.
Another is a cousin-in-law. I've known her more than 20 years. She was only diagnosed within the last month or two and is currently undergoing treatment. With the help of her sisters, she took a strong, brave step and shaved her head. It is her choice to get rid of her hair. She's not letting the chemotherapy make that decision for her. Two degrees (and three cheers for her).
The fourth is a very dear friend whom I've known and loved for 13 years. I mentioned her mother above. She received her diagnosis within the last two weeks. (Around here it seems that October truly is Breast Cancer Awareness Month!) Treatment options are still being discussed with her doctors, though she has an idea of the route she'll be taking. A full recovery is expected, though it won't be a cakewalk getting there. I'll let the doctor take care of her front, but you can bet we'll have her back! One degree.
Let's see...six degrees vs. one degree. All in all--and even if it's 1,000 degrees--I'd rather have Bacon.
It doesn't take six degrees to link to breast cancer. Four women I know have the disease. Well, that I'm aware of. There are likely more within a step or two. I hope none feel that I'm invading their privacy by sharing some general information about their lives. I'm not naming names. And it's not as if I have an audience of thousands. I just recently realized that it's something that touches more people than I'd imagined.
One is the wife of a former employer. She underwent treatment several years ago and is doing fine now. Two degrees. One is the mother of a dear friend. She suffered through treatment, but the cancer returned and has spread. The prognosis is not good. Two degrees.
Another is a cousin-in-law. I've known her more than 20 years. She was only diagnosed within the last month or two and is currently undergoing treatment. With the help of her sisters, she took a strong, brave step and shaved her head. It is her choice to get rid of her hair. She's not letting the chemotherapy make that decision for her. Two degrees (and three cheers for her).
The fourth is a very dear friend whom I've known and loved for 13 years. I mentioned her mother above. She received her diagnosis within the last two weeks. (Around here it seems that October truly is Breast Cancer Awareness Month!) Treatment options are still being discussed with her doctors, though she has an idea of the route she'll be taking. A full recovery is expected, though it won't be a cakewalk getting there. I'll let the doctor take care of her front, but you can bet we'll have her back! One degree.
Let's see...six degrees vs. one degree. All in all--and even if it's 1,000 degrees--I'd rather have Bacon.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Weekend, Schmeekend
I intended to write a post with this title about two years ago. I had recently gone out of town for a few days with my best girlfriends. It was our faux weekend getaway. The "getaway" was genuine, but our "weekend" was Sunday through Tuesday. Pick a day, any day!
But for some reason, time got away from me and I never committed our adventures to writing. I wasn't able to go along with them last year, but we're keeping our fingers crossed that we'll be able to travel again this month. (If you're not a woman, I'm not sure you'll fully grasp how special "girlfriend" time is.)
What do I remember from our last trip? I remember riding for maybe an hour to the condo we were borrowing. Barely even got lost! Schlep everything in from the car. (I know it was only two days, but you never know what you might need!) Then we all changed into our snugglies to watch...the Packer game. I know, right? Me, watching a game with the girls. Well, I must admit I wasn't watching it in the strictest sense, but I was keeping up with the action. There was probably wine involved, if memory serves. Time for everyone to choose their bedroom. Sleep tight! Coffee, please. Shopping in the tourist town (mostly window shopping). Back to the condo to make supper. Talk about teamwork! Even I, with my limited culinary skills, found a way to contribute! A little TV, a visit to a local establishment. Bedtime again. More coffee. Pack up and clean up. Into town for lunch, and back on the road.
Now, I'm sure that doesn't sound like much. Even writing it I had to wonder if that's all we did. But with good friends it's not about what you do. It's that you're doing (or not doing) it together. It's about "weaving a tapestry of memories." (They will chuckle at that.) We often laugh at the same things, even if they're not supposed to be funny. We accommodate each other's quirks. We may not fully agree on politics or music or commas, and that's OK. We have so much in common with each other, yet each person brings their own perspective to any situation. Two might offer advice to the third. But it's just as likely that any two will instead give the third a little good-natured ribbing. (I think they will chuckle at that, too.) We've known each other for...let's just say a goodly number of years. Yet I swear that we learn something new in almost every conversation.
I missed the outing last year. They said it wasn't the same with just the two of them, and I don't believe they said that just to be polite. I know there were certainly some advantages to it being a party of two rather than three. But I also know that...what's a good comparison...a tripod isn't much good with only two legs. There's just a better balance with three. We Skyped (yeah, we're "that" cool) while they were away and I was here so I could still participate. They brought me souvenirs (the best magic wand ever!). There really ain't nothin' like a dame, and we're three fabulous dames!
We're in the midst of planning the next trip. Wait--"planning" might be too strong a word. Sure, there are details like who's bringing what food to cook and which one is bringing a hair dryer. But we don't need any travel brochures or formal agenda. We'll do what we want to do when it suits us. In a case like this, less is definitely more.
It doesn't matter when, or where, or even for how long. Weekend or weekday, lunch or cocktails, restaurant or porch, two hours or two days. As long as you're with your "besties," it's time well spent.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
I'm Such a Geek
Remember back in high school when the "cool" kids called you a geek? Or a dork? Or a nerd, dweeb, twit, or doofus? Maybe you were one of the cool kids.
The terms change with each generation, but the concept is the same. You don't have the right clothes or the right friends. You don't live in the right neighborhood or have the right car. In those tender teen years, it can hurt to feel like you don't fit in.
But at some point in the last decade or so, it seems like, in the words of Huey Lewis, it's hip to be square! So why do I consider myself a geek?
On TV, I've watched "Doctor Who," "Star Trek" (the original), "Firefly," "The Big Bang Theory," and "Lost." Though I'm not a hardcore fan, I've enjoyed the films "Lord of the Rings" (all three, and anxiously awaiting "The Hobbit"), "Star Wars" (all six, though the original three are the best), and "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." Some of my favorite actors these days are Nathan Fillion, David Tennant, and Benedict Cumberbatch. I just updated my calendar and noted the following "holidays" that I celebrate: Talk Like a Pirate Day, Hobbit Day, National Punctuation Day, National Grammar Day, Pi Day, and Towel Day. Oh, my... I know that the cake is a lie. Darn it...I just lost the game. I'm not big on video games if they don't involve Mario and Yoshi, but I have a basic awareness of "Halo," "Portal," and "World of Warcraft." I blog and tweet and Facebook. My phone has apps for both a lightsaber and a sonic screwdriver.
I know I'm nowhere near being a teenager. I'll never go to Comic-Con. I don't consider myself an expert on pop culture by any means. But I am proud to say I am a geek.
And if you understood even half of my references above, you just might be a geek, too.
The terms change with each generation, but the concept is the same. You don't have the right clothes or the right friends. You don't live in the right neighborhood or have the right car. In those tender teen years, it can hurt to feel like you don't fit in.
But at some point in the last decade or so, it seems like, in the words of Huey Lewis, it's hip to be square! So why do I consider myself a geek?
On TV, I've watched "Doctor Who," "Star Trek" (the original), "Firefly," "The Big Bang Theory," and "Lost." Though I'm not a hardcore fan, I've enjoyed the films "Lord of the Rings" (all three, and anxiously awaiting "The Hobbit"), "Star Wars" (all six, though the original three are the best), and "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." Some of my favorite actors these days are Nathan Fillion, David Tennant, and Benedict Cumberbatch. I just updated my calendar and noted the following "holidays" that I celebrate: Talk Like a Pirate Day, Hobbit Day, National Punctuation Day, National Grammar Day, Pi Day, and Towel Day. Oh, my... I know that the cake is a lie. Darn it...I just lost the game. I'm not big on video games if they don't involve Mario and Yoshi, but I have a basic awareness of "Halo," "Portal," and "World of Warcraft." I blog and tweet and Facebook. My phone has apps for both a lightsaber and a sonic screwdriver.
I know I'm nowhere near being a teenager. I'll never go to Comic-Con. I don't consider myself an expert on pop culture by any means. But I am proud to say I am a geek.
And if you understood even half of my references above, you just might be a geek, too.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Little Things You Never Forget
I wrote earlier this summer about some little things that mean a lot. You know--those seemingly minor events or interactions that hold a more special place emotionally than it would appear on paper.
I also wrote last month about my 30-year class reunion. Naturally, lots of memories were shared about classmates, teachers, the school, and the city. One friend told a story about her daughter's spelling bee. The girl missed a word, and her mom told her that she would always remember that word and never misspell it again. "Was I right? Do you remember your word? Mind was 'friend.' Can you believe it?" Yes, I remember: flivver (which I would define as sort of a jalopy). An English teacher read us a poem or story or something titled (as I recall) "Ford's Fabulous Flivver." But I never saw a hard copy so had no clue how to spell the word! Afterward, I remember another teacher telling me that I should have known it had a double "v" because of the short "i" sound. She gave examples with a long "i" like driver and survivor. Oh yeah? Well, what about quiver and shiver and river? But I digress. The point isn't that I missed a word and didn't win the school spelling bee. The point is that though I have likely never used the word in conversation in the 35 years since, flivver will never leave my brain.
There are so many little things from childhood and my teen years that, at first glance, don't seem that memorable. And if you asked, I probably couldn't even explain them well enough to make them seem important. But for whatever reason, they've burrowed into my brain. I remember...
...pinching my finger in the refrigerator handle
...chasing a fawn down the middle of the road, trying to get it to run to the safety of the woods
...leaving a "snack" out by the night-light for the Sandman
...the tire blowing out on the car as my mom was driving us home from a Girl Scout trip
...my brother making me laugh at "Mount Fuji Wuji"
...wearing dishtowels for capes at my cousins' house
...the spiders outside the windows at the rooftop restaurant on our vacation
...getting knocked off the teeter-totter in grade school
...sitting on Daddy's lap to "drive" the car into the garage
...the dish soap bottle with a string in it at Grandma's house (Trust me--it was a funny prank at that age!)
...the other grandma's riced potatoes (They just taste better than plain spuds!)
...my sister taking me to high school with her for some class project/discussion
They all sound silly, right? Maybe they are. Could I tell you any more specific info about any of the events? Probably not. Did I learn anything from these experiences? I doubt it. Are these substantial milestones in the development of who I am today? Not likely. But these are just a few examples of the minutiae that my mind has chosen to retain.
There are plenty of more significant events in my adult life. Once you graduate high school there are all sorts of things you'll remember forever. Some, you wish you could recall more clearly. Others, you wish you could forget.
It's simultaneously fascinating and comical how the mind works. We remember things for no apparent reason. But I know it's not just me. Come on, admit it. You've got those little details stuck in your head, too.
What's your flivver?
I also wrote last month about my 30-year class reunion. Naturally, lots of memories were shared about classmates, teachers, the school, and the city. One friend told a story about her daughter's spelling bee. The girl missed a word, and her mom told her that she would always remember that word and never misspell it again. "Was I right? Do you remember your word? Mind was 'friend.' Can you believe it?" Yes, I remember: flivver (which I would define as sort of a jalopy). An English teacher read us a poem or story or something titled (as I recall) "Ford's Fabulous Flivver." But I never saw a hard copy so had no clue how to spell the word! Afterward, I remember another teacher telling me that I should have known it had a double "v" because of the short "i" sound. She gave examples with a long "i" like driver and survivor. Oh yeah? Well, what about quiver and shiver and river? But I digress. The point isn't that I missed a word and didn't win the school spelling bee. The point is that though I have likely never used the word in conversation in the 35 years since, flivver will never leave my brain.
There are so many little things from childhood and my teen years that, at first glance, don't seem that memorable. And if you asked, I probably couldn't even explain them well enough to make them seem important. But for whatever reason, they've burrowed into my brain. I remember...
...pinching my finger in the refrigerator handle
...chasing a fawn down the middle of the road, trying to get it to run to the safety of the woods
...leaving a "snack" out by the night-light for the Sandman
...the tire blowing out on the car as my mom was driving us home from a Girl Scout trip
...my brother making me laugh at "Mount Fuji Wuji"
...wearing dishtowels for capes at my cousins' house
...the spiders outside the windows at the rooftop restaurant on our vacation
...getting knocked off the teeter-totter in grade school
...sitting on Daddy's lap to "drive" the car into the garage
...the dish soap bottle with a string in it at Grandma's house (Trust me--it was a funny prank at that age!)
...the other grandma's riced potatoes (They just taste better than plain spuds!)
...my sister taking me to high school with her for some class project/discussion
They all sound silly, right? Maybe they are. Could I tell you any more specific info about any of the events? Probably not. Did I learn anything from these experiences? I doubt it. Are these substantial milestones in the development of who I am today? Not likely. But these are just a few examples of the minutiae that my mind has chosen to retain.
There are plenty of more significant events in my adult life. Once you graduate high school there are all sorts of things you'll remember forever. Some, you wish you could recall more clearly. Others, you wish you could forget.
It's simultaneously fascinating and comical how the mind works. We remember things for no apparent reason. But I know it's not just me. Come on, admit it. You've got those little details stuck in your head, too.
What's your flivver?
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Don't Mind Me...
I decided it was time to try a new blog layout. So, I've spent the last hour or so trying different templates, moving gadgets, adjusting colors, etc. I need to sleep on it and decide if I like it or not. I just didn't want anyone (especially me) to feel that my page was looking stale!
Monday, August 6, 2012
Seems Like Only Yesterday
Well, maybe not yesterday. But it certainly didn't feel like it had been 30 years since we'd all spent so much time together. I'm talking, of course, of our high school class reunion.
I'd been unable to make up my mind about whether to attend. I was worried that maybe people had changed too much since senior year and we'd no longer have anything to talk about. But I was also concerned that things hadn't changed and the high-school hierarchy would still exist. I did some thinking out loud about it in my post last week. (And 30 years ago, I certainly wouldn't have said, "Hey, everybody. Take a look at something I wrote!")
Looking through my yearbook and finding my graduation announcement gave me just enough inspiration to hit the road and participate again in the reunion experience. I missed the 25-year, but I think I'd been to the previous gatherings.
"This is my husband. Nice to meet you." "Green Bay. And you?" "One 17-year-old son. Thank you." "I've been a proofreader for years, but I'm between jobs right now." Almost every conversation started the same way. But each one took a different direction. We shared memories of classes and teachers. We laughed about the part-time jobs we held and how our free time was spent. Life had followed carefully planned paths for some, and taken unexpected turns for others. It was truly fascinating to learn a little bit of what was behind those still-familiar faces.
Fortunately, I found someone from my old neighborhood right off the bat. Since we'd known each other since kindergarten (and probably even earlier), the words flew freely. From there it was easier than I'd imagined to move around the room. I was lucky enough to spend time with several classmates from grade school. I guess those bonds you establish during your formative years really DO endure!
The ice was automatically broken because we were all members of the class of '82. I talked to people I'd "hung out with" back in the day and with those who had different circles of friends. I was happy to see many I'd hoped would be there, and pleasantly surprised by some I didn't expect. There were people I hadn't really known that well at the time. But thanks to the wondrous world of social networking, I'm able to call them "friends" now. OK, I admit we might not be getting together for barbecue any time soon, but we have some shared interests and respect each other's opinions. That's part of what makes a friendship, isn't it?
Naturally, not everyone was able to attend, and some surely had no interest in coming. And as is the case at reunions everywhere, some friends are no longer with us. I hope that as they looked down on the party, they saw that we realize our graduating class wouldn't have been the same without them...and they will always be a part of that class.
There were lots of hugs and handshakes. I certainly didn't talk to everyone I would have liked to. (I can't imagine that anyone was able to make the rounds without missing someone!) That just gives me something more to look forward to next time.
I'd been unable to make up my mind about whether to attend. I was worried that maybe people had changed too much since senior year and we'd no longer have anything to talk about. But I was also concerned that things hadn't changed and the high-school hierarchy would still exist. I did some thinking out loud about it in my post last week. (And 30 years ago, I certainly wouldn't have said, "Hey, everybody. Take a look at something I wrote!")
Looking through my yearbook and finding my graduation announcement gave me just enough inspiration to hit the road and participate again in the reunion experience. I missed the 25-year, but I think I'd been to the previous gatherings.
"This is my husband. Nice to meet you." "Green Bay. And you?" "One 17-year-old son. Thank you." "I've been a proofreader for years, but I'm between jobs right now." Almost every conversation started the same way. But each one took a different direction. We shared memories of classes and teachers. We laughed about the part-time jobs we held and how our free time was spent. Life had followed carefully planned paths for some, and taken unexpected turns for others. It was truly fascinating to learn a little bit of what was behind those still-familiar faces.
Fortunately, I found someone from my old neighborhood right off the bat. Since we'd known each other since kindergarten (and probably even earlier), the words flew freely. From there it was easier than I'd imagined to move around the room. I was lucky enough to spend time with several classmates from grade school. I guess those bonds you establish during your formative years really DO endure!
The ice was automatically broken because we were all members of the class of '82. I talked to people I'd "hung out with" back in the day and with those who had different circles of friends. I was happy to see many I'd hoped would be there, and pleasantly surprised by some I didn't expect. There were people I hadn't really known that well at the time. But thanks to the wondrous world of social networking, I'm able to call them "friends" now. OK, I admit we might not be getting together for barbecue any time soon, but we have some shared interests and respect each other's opinions. That's part of what makes a friendship, isn't it?
Naturally, not everyone was able to attend, and some surely had no interest in coming. And as is the case at reunions everywhere, some friends are no longer with us. I hope that as they looked down on the party, they saw that we realize our graduating class wouldn't have been the same without them...and they will always be a part of that class.
There were lots of hugs and handshakes. I certainly didn't talk to everyone I would have liked to. (I can't imagine that anyone was able to make the rounds without missing someone!) That just gives me something more to look forward to next time.
I had no real expectations for the reunion, good or bad. It would have been a shame, though, to miss it due solely to apathy. Memories of high school are a mix of sweet nostalgia and "Gee, I'm glad that's over!" But the memory of our 30-year reunion will definitely go in my mental yearbook as one of the good times. See you in five years!
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Graduation Was HOW Long Ago?
The other night I popped in my CD of the "Fame" soundtrack (the original film from 1980, not the--gasp--remake). I could feel the wave of nostalgia wash over me, even though I don't recall any big spontaneous dance numbers taking place in our school cafeteria. (I'm sorry....it was actually called the "commons.")
It also stirs up extra memories this week because we're closing in on our 30-year class reunion. Really? It's been that long? Guess that means we're grown-ups, huh? As they say, where does the time go?
I've pulled out my senior yearbook to try to brush up on some names and faces, though we all look at least a little different than we did in 1982. That got me thinking: Will I be surprised at the reunion by how much everyone (in general) has changed? Or by how much everyone (overall) has not? Surely after 30 years we can find things in common besides simply high school, right?
So let me take a look at myself and see what might make me recognizable as a member of the class of '82.
Naturally there's platinum in my hair that wasn't there before. But I think I look essentially like an older version of that girl in the yearbook. I still don't spend a lot of money on clothes, or a lot of time on hair or makeup. And I rarely use any hairspray.
I no longer play in a band or orchestra. Every now and then I'll get out my clarinet and see if I've still "got it." (Not bad, but my embouchure gives out after about 15 minutes.) I get my "fix" by living vicariously through my violin-playing son.
My other primary extracurricular activities were debate and forensics. I enjoyed both, but they certainly didn't make me eager to speak in front of a group. I think, however, they helped expand my love of the English language. I remember Mr. Grinsel telling us to say during a debate that we have a "quotation" to read, not a "quote." I try to follow that rule to this day.
I'm still not a jock. Sports and such never really interested me (perhaps due, in part, to my overall lack of coordination). I was, however a "soccer mom" for a while. And I am watching bits and pieces of the Olympics!
Never was a real social butterfly, and probably never will be. I was a bit of a nerd in the '80s. I think I still am, to some extent, though these days "geek" can be "cool." ("Doctor Who," anyone?)
I would still get a kick out of watching "E.T.," "Tootsie," and "Star Trek II." I still enjoy listening to Men at Work, Human League, and even Air Supply. (I hate, though, that I have to listen to an oldies station.)
We may have tots or teens...or not. We may have grandchildren! (Not part of my world yet, and I don't expect any for several years, at least.) We may have lived in exotic places. Or our address may still be in Wausau. There have been weddings and divorces, births and funerals, more school and jobs--and unemployment. We might still be in touch with some of those same close friends. Or we might just send an annual Christmas card. For all its faults, Facebook does allow me to once again have some contact with former classmates. It's not the same as regular letters or phone calls or dinners out, but it's a connection all the same.
We no longer fit into the tidy "Breakfast Club" categories. We've all matured enough to form our own opinions based on our own experiences. We're the same people we were, and we're at the same time different people. However we might describe ourselves today, we're still Warriors.
♫ ♫ Onward, Wausau West to reach, the victory that is ours... ♫ ♫ And onward to our reunion!
It also stirs up extra memories this week because we're closing in on our 30-year class reunion. Really? It's been that long? Guess that means we're grown-ups, huh? As they say, where does the time go?
I've pulled out my senior yearbook to try to brush up on some names and faces, though we all look at least a little different than we did in 1982. That got me thinking: Will I be surprised at the reunion by how much everyone (in general) has changed? Or by how much everyone (overall) has not? Surely after 30 years we can find things in common besides simply high school, right?
So let me take a look at myself and see what might make me recognizable as a member of the class of '82.
Naturally there's platinum in my hair that wasn't there before. But I think I look essentially like an older version of that girl in the yearbook. I still don't spend a lot of money on clothes, or a lot of time on hair or makeup. And I rarely use any hairspray.
I no longer play in a band or orchestra. Every now and then I'll get out my clarinet and see if I've still "got it." (Not bad, but my embouchure gives out after about 15 minutes.) I get my "fix" by living vicariously through my violin-playing son.
My other primary extracurricular activities were debate and forensics. I enjoyed both, but they certainly didn't make me eager to speak in front of a group. I think, however, they helped expand my love of the English language. I remember Mr. Grinsel telling us to say during a debate that we have a "quotation" to read, not a "quote." I try to follow that rule to this day.
I'm still not a jock. Sports and such never really interested me (perhaps due, in part, to my overall lack of coordination). I was, however a "soccer mom" for a while. And I am watching bits and pieces of the Olympics!
Never was a real social butterfly, and probably never will be. I was a bit of a nerd in the '80s. I think I still am, to some extent, though these days "geek" can be "cool." ("Doctor Who," anyone?)
I would still get a kick out of watching "E.T.," "Tootsie," and "Star Trek II." I still enjoy listening to Men at Work, Human League, and even Air Supply. (I hate, though, that I have to listen to an oldies station.)
We may have tots or teens...or not. We may have grandchildren! (Not part of my world yet, and I don't expect any for several years, at least.) We may have lived in exotic places. Or our address may still be in Wausau. There have been weddings and divorces, births and funerals, more school and jobs--and unemployment. We might still be in touch with some of those same close friends. Or we might just send an annual Christmas card. For all its faults, Facebook does allow me to once again have some contact with former classmates. It's not the same as regular letters or phone calls or dinners out, but it's a connection all the same.
We no longer fit into the tidy "Breakfast Club" categories. We've all matured enough to form our own opinions based on our own experiences. We're the same people we were, and we're at the same time different people. However we might describe ourselves today, we're still Warriors.
♫ ♫ Onward, Wausau West to reach, the victory that is ours... ♫ ♫ And onward to our reunion!
Monday, July 16, 2012
Little Things Mean a Lot
That line popped into my head this afternoon. As I suspected, it's from an old song by that name (from the '50s). I checked out the lyrics, and it looks like the singer is telling her man that she doesn't need big, fancy, or expensive expressions of his love. What's more important to her are the simple gestures that show how important she is to him.
But the phrase didn't conjure up anything romantic for me today. Instead, I got to thinking about the memories we make with those we love. You can spend lots of money on exotic vacations, or you can have a picnic in the park. You can buy fabulous jewelry, or you can pick a bouquet of dandelions. You can treat your friends to a shopping spree, or you can share coffee and conversation on the patio. You can plan and spend and "do" in a effort to force the creation of pleasant memories. But while the big events may leave you with photos and things to talk about at the next family reunion, it might be the little things that leave a deeper, more lasting impression.
I was cleaning out a folder in my filing cabinet that, admittedly, could have been cleaned out long ago. There were some ancient resumes for jobs I never got and for which I didn't even remember applying. At that time, I was working at a hotel front desk but was trying to move up the ladder in the hospitality field. I found a slip of paper with a few ads from my hometown newspaper glued to it. General manager at one motel, front desk manager at another. I figured that my dad had probably cut them from the paper and sent them to me, knowing I was looking for new opportunities. (My mom would have been just as likely to clip and send them, but she would have just tucked them loosely into a letter.) If I'd had any doubts about where these job leads came from, the source became clear when I noticed one tiny ad placed neatly among the rest: "Models and Show Girls. Will train." I can totally picture a little mischievous grin as Dad glued that to the page with the others. I don't remember if we ever chuckled about it together. But it's the kind of thing that reminds me of him rather than any particular event or occasion. If your dad can't alert you to a job opening for show girls, who can?
I decided to not recycle that particular piece of paper after all. It really is the little things that mean a lot. Thanks for reminding me of that, Daddy.
But the phrase didn't conjure up anything romantic for me today. Instead, I got to thinking about the memories we make with those we love. You can spend lots of money on exotic vacations, or you can have a picnic in the park. You can buy fabulous jewelry, or you can pick a bouquet of dandelions. You can treat your friends to a shopping spree, or you can share coffee and conversation on the patio. You can plan and spend and "do" in a effort to force the creation of pleasant memories. But while the big events may leave you with photos and things to talk about at the next family reunion, it might be the little things that leave a deeper, more lasting impression.
I was cleaning out a folder in my filing cabinet that, admittedly, could have been cleaned out long ago. There were some ancient resumes for jobs I never got and for which I didn't even remember applying. At that time, I was working at a hotel front desk but was trying to move up the ladder in the hospitality field. I found a slip of paper with a few ads from my hometown newspaper glued to it. General manager at one motel, front desk manager at another. I figured that my dad had probably cut them from the paper and sent them to me, knowing I was looking for new opportunities. (My mom would have been just as likely to clip and send them, but she would have just tucked them loosely into a letter.) If I'd had any doubts about where these job leads came from, the source became clear when I noticed one tiny ad placed neatly among the rest: "Models and Show Girls. Will train." I can totally picture a little mischievous grin as Dad glued that to the page with the others. I don't remember if we ever chuckled about it together. But it's the kind of thing that reminds me of him rather than any particular event or occasion. If your dad can't alert you to a job opening for show girls, who can?
I decided to not recycle that particular piece of paper after all. It really is the little things that mean a lot. Thanks for reminding me of that, Daddy.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Happy Fourth of July!
No matter where you live, you have a fourth of July. But only in the United States does that date hold so much meaning. Today, we celebrate our nation's independence. We do enjoy our patriotic holidays!
I'm sure I'm not alone in forgetting many of the details learned so long ago in history class. Colonists didn't like the way King George III was ruling and decided to establish their own nation with its own government. War ensued, lives were lost, but the United States of America was born. As I read the text of the Declaration of Independence, I can see that the Congress took the matter very seriously. I can imagine long and heated discussions. But they talked and argued--and reached an agreement.
Sure, it's a different world now than it was in 1776. But I think sometimes it would be worth it to remind ourselves how our country began:
Perhaps it's no longer that simple.
I don't usually discuss my political opinions. There are a lot of things not working right now in our system. Over the last 236 years, I think "blame" could be placed on both parties, all branches of government, presidents and mayors and everyone in between. And of course, on the people who vote or choose to not vote. We all share the responsibility.
But in spite of our thoughts on any given issue, let us not forget that we live in a country where we can legally voice our opinions. It may seem like only a whisper buried in political rhetoric, but we can make ourselves heard. We are incredibly fortunate to live here.
The colonists identified a common goal and by working together, they achieved independence from British rule. Can't we take a step back and remember that we all have the same basic rights and the same basic goal? We are, after all, the United States.
Happy Independence Day!
I'm sure I'm not alone in forgetting many of the details learned so long ago in history class. Colonists didn't like the way King George III was ruling and decided to establish their own nation with its own government. War ensued, lives were lost, but the United States of America was born. As I read the text of the Declaration of Independence, I can see that the Congress took the matter very seriously. I can imagine long and heated discussions. But they talked and argued--and reached an agreement.
Sure, it's a different world now than it was in 1776. But I think sometimes it would be worth it to remind ourselves how our country began:
We hold these truths to be self-evident,
that all men are created
equal,
that they are endowed by their Creator
with certain unalienable
Rights,
that among these are
Life, Liberty and the pursuit of
Happiness.
Perhaps it's no longer that simple.
I don't usually discuss my political opinions. There are a lot of things not working right now in our system. Over the last 236 years, I think "blame" could be placed on both parties, all branches of government, presidents and mayors and everyone in between. And of course, on the people who vote or choose to not vote. We all share the responsibility.
But in spite of our thoughts on any given issue, let us not forget that we live in a country where we can legally voice our opinions. It may seem like only a whisper buried in political rhetoric, but we can make ourselves heard. We are incredibly fortunate to live here.
The colonists identified a common goal and by working together, they achieved independence from British rule. Can't we take a step back and remember that we all have the same basic rights and the same basic goal? We are, after all, the United States.
Happy Independence Day!
Friday, June 29, 2012
What's Up? Nothing Big.
Haven't had any huge life experiences lately. But a few things have been happening. Perhaps as I start writing them, more ideas will come to mind.
Got my semiannual haircut yesterday. Yes, I typically only visit the salon twice a year. I'll trim my bangs myself when they start hanging in my eyes. But I've never been a fan of high-maintenance hair. So I get it cut to about chin-length. It always feels so cute and perky and bouncy when I leave! (Never quite turns out the same when I take a brush and blow dryer to it.) I'm happy with it for months. I merely have to dry it into submission if I'm going out in public. On the weekends, I can let it exercise a bit more independence. It grows, it gets wavier. I may pull it into a ponytail if it's hot out and I'm frustrated with it. Finally, I can't take it any more and I call for an appointment. It may be a week or two before I can get in, but it's always worth the trip. The price is reasonable, but I treat it as kind of a splurge. And I've been having my hair cut by the same woman for 22 years (except for one time when I reached my desperation stage and she was on maternity leave). She knows how I like it cut and doesn't pressure me to try something too far outside of my comfort zone. She doesn't try to make me feel like I should cover up the "platinum." I'm probably the client she sees the least, but at least I'm consistent!
Had some time to kill the other night, so I made a stop at a local thrift store. Kind of fun to wander around. Didn't have enough time to really search through the clothes, or the vast selection of coffee mugs (like I need another one!). But they did have a few CDs, and I was tickled to find (yes, I said tickled) "Addicted to P.D.Q. Bach and Prof. Peter Schickele." It's...sort of...classical music, but it's not "traditional." When I was young, I would have lumped it into the same category as Spike Jones, or perhaps Victor Borge. Comedy, but not stand-up. If you're not familiar, you can get an overview at the Professor Peter Schickele website (more specifically, the biography of P.D.Q. Bach here). Or, just search YouTube when you're just relaxing in front of your computer anyway. Music can raise all sorts of emotions. This is the kind that makes me laugh.
Phoned my mom that night, too. I call almost every week. Not sure why, but our conversations almost always last about an hour. This one was an hour and 45 minutes! Must be because I called on Wednesday instead of the usual Sunday. I rarely have anything in particular to discuss, but we always come up with something. I must be blessed, because I imagine there are a lot of people who are not able--or not willing--to just chat with their parents.
I got a phone interview for a proofreader position. Due to the upcoming holiday, in-person interviews won't be scheduled for another week or so. I know there are other applicants under consideration. But how many of them have actually worked as a genuine proofreader? There are other tasks that the company wants this person to perform, and I've got experience in those areas, as well. It appears that I am ideally suited for it, so I'm confident I'll get a call to move to the next step. (OK, perhaps "confident" is a bit strong, but I am pretty sure I'll be called.)
We spent the night at Mom's house two weekends ago. My sister and brother-in-law live out of state and make the trip up virtually every summer. The Boy's schedule is so full that we couldn't spend as much time there as we would have liked, but we couldn't pass up the annual opportunity to visit! It's funny: My sister is eight years older than me. She has always been my "big sister," having moved away for college before we really had a chance to become "friends." Our daily lives are pretty different. We don't email often, and neither of us is big on talking on the phone (calls to Mom notwithstanding). And yet, we still managed to talk for hours, well into the night. That's a sign of family ties and close friendships. You may not get together often, but it's not hard to pick up where you left off the last time.
That about sums it up. No breaking news here, but there's no rule that says I can't write about minutiae! Isn't life made up more of the "little" things anyway?
Got my semiannual haircut yesterday. Yes, I typically only visit the salon twice a year. I'll trim my bangs myself when they start hanging in my eyes. But I've never been a fan of high-maintenance hair. So I get it cut to about chin-length. It always feels so cute and perky and bouncy when I leave! (Never quite turns out the same when I take a brush and blow dryer to it.) I'm happy with it for months. I merely have to dry it into submission if I'm going out in public. On the weekends, I can let it exercise a bit more independence. It grows, it gets wavier. I may pull it into a ponytail if it's hot out and I'm frustrated with it. Finally, I can't take it any more and I call for an appointment. It may be a week or two before I can get in, but it's always worth the trip. The price is reasonable, but I treat it as kind of a splurge. And I've been having my hair cut by the same woman for 22 years (except for one time when I reached my desperation stage and she was on maternity leave). She knows how I like it cut and doesn't pressure me to try something too far outside of my comfort zone. She doesn't try to make me feel like I should cover up the "platinum." I'm probably the client she sees the least, but at least I'm consistent!
Had some time to kill the other night, so I made a stop at a local thrift store. Kind of fun to wander around. Didn't have enough time to really search through the clothes, or the vast selection of coffee mugs (like I need another one!). But they did have a few CDs, and I was tickled to find (yes, I said tickled) "Addicted to P.D.Q. Bach and Prof. Peter Schickele." It's...sort of...classical music, but it's not "traditional." When I was young, I would have lumped it into the same category as Spike Jones, or perhaps Victor Borge. Comedy, but not stand-up. If you're not familiar, you can get an overview at the Professor Peter Schickele website (more specifically, the biography of P.D.Q. Bach here). Or, just search YouTube when you're just relaxing in front of your computer anyway. Music can raise all sorts of emotions. This is the kind that makes me laugh.
Phoned my mom that night, too. I call almost every week. Not sure why, but our conversations almost always last about an hour. This one was an hour and 45 minutes! Must be because I called on Wednesday instead of the usual Sunday. I rarely have anything in particular to discuss, but we always come up with something. I must be blessed, because I imagine there are a lot of people who are not able--or not willing--to just chat with their parents.
I got a phone interview for a proofreader position. Due to the upcoming holiday, in-person interviews won't be scheduled for another week or so. I know there are other applicants under consideration. But how many of them have actually worked as a genuine proofreader? There are other tasks that the company wants this person to perform, and I've got experience in those areas, as well. It appears that I am ideally suited for it, so I'm confident I'll get a call to move to the next step. (OK, perhaps "confident" is a bit strong, but I am pretty sure I'll be called.)
We spent the night at Mom's house two weekends ago. My sister and brother-in-law live out of state and make the trip up virtually every summer. The Boy's schedule is so full that we couldn't spend as much time there as we would have liked, but we couldn't pass up the annual opportunity to visit! It's funny: My sister is eight years older than me. She has always been my "big sister," having moved away for college before we really had a chance to become "friends." Our daily lives are pretty different. We don't email often, and neither of us is big on talking on the phone (calls to Mom notwithstanding). And yet, we still managed to talk for hours, well into the night. That's a sign of family ties and close friendships. You may not get together often, but it's not hard to pick up where you left off the last time.
That about sums it up. No breaking news here, but there's no rule that says I can't write about minutiae! Isn't life made up more of the "little" things anyway?
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Why Write?
I wonder sometimes how I would answer the question, "Why do you have a blog?"
I'm not trying to become a published author, nor do I feel like I have so many important things to say that need to be shared with the world. I'm not promoting any home-based business. I don't consider myself an "expert" in any particular field (though I'm a mighty fine proofreader, if I do say so myself).
I don't have a vast audience who eats up my every word. There are a few people who stop by periodically, I believe. If I post a link on Facebook to my latest musings, I'll usually get extra visitors.
Though it's nice to know that someone will take a few minutes out of their day to read what I have to say, I have to admit that I haven't been writing for "them." Perhaps it sounds selfish or trite, but I really just write for me.
I just looked back at the titles of my posts and the keywords I label them with for personal reference and see a few patterns. Not surprisingly, I usually write when something happens in my life that I find noteworthy. My first post? "So...this is a blog." I'd made the plunge into the world of blogging. It looks like I was writing almost every week (must have felt I had a lot to say). But what makes me sit down and actually type instead of just letting thoughts continue to flutter through my mind?
Notable dates make me feel like sharing some sort of wish with the world: "M" is for..., Happy New Year!, and Childhood Christmas Traditions are a few examples.
And other times I guess I just feel reflective. I might have discovered something about myself that I wanted to share, like I am a People Person (I am?), Just Pick Up the Phone!, or Expanding My Comfort Zone.
Losing my father has given me things to say: It's Been a Year and Remembering Daddy.
Or sometimes I just feel like talking, albeit electronically: 'Tis the Season for Music, Dark Shadows? I Doubt It!, Welcome back to me!, and even Talk Like a Pirate Day.
My blog is not a diary or a journal. I would consider those writings private and certainly wouldn't share them intentionally! It's not a place where I try to work out any deep issues. That's why I get together with my girlfriends! It's just me, writing when I feel like it. For myself. If you're occasionally entertained, please come back and read some more!
Why write? Why not?
I'm not trying to become a published author, nor do I feel like I have so many important things to say that need to be shared with the world. I'm not promoting any home-based business. I don't consider myself an "expert" in any particular field (though I'm a mighty fine proofreader, if I do say so myself).
I don't have a vast audience who eats up my every word. There are a few people who stop by periodically, I believe. If I post a link on Facebook to my latest musings, I'll usually get extra visitors.
Though it's nice to know that someone will take a few minutes out of their day to read what I have to say, I have to admit that I haven't been writing for "them." Perhaps it sounds selfish or trite, but I really just write for me.
I just looked back at the titles of my posts and the keywords I label them with for personal reference and see a few patterns. Not surprisingly, I usually write when something happens in my life that I find noteworthy. My first post? "So...this is a blog." I'd made the plunge into the world of blogging. It looks like I was writing almost every week (must have felt I had a lot to say). But what makes me sit down and actually type instead of just letting thoughts continue to flutter through my mind?
Notable dates make me feel like sharing some sort of wish with the world: "M" is for..., Happy New Year!, and Childhood Christmas Traditions are a few examples.
And other times I guess I just feel reflective. I might have discovered something about myself that I wanted to share, like I am a People Person (I am?), Just Pick Up the Phone!, or Expanding My Comfort Zone.
Losing my father has given me things to say: It's Been a Year and Remembering Daddy.
Or sometimes I just feel like talking, albeit electronically: 'Tis the Season for Music, Dark Shadows? I Doubt It!, Welcome back to me!, and even Talk Like a Pirate Day.
My blog is not a diary or a journal. I would consider those writings private and certainly wouldn't share them intentionally! It's not a place where I try to work out any deep issues. That's why I get together with my girlfriends! It's just me, writing when I feel like it. For myself. If you're occasionally entertained, please come back and read some more!
Why write? Why not?
Sunday, May 13, 2012
"M" is for...
It seems to me that we sang this song at our church's mother/daughter banquet when I was a child. I don't remember anything in particular about the specific events. But on this Mother's Day, it's only fitting to bring out a classic one more time.
"M" is for the million things she gave me.
Like pudding cake? That little white sweater? The way I sneeze "big"? Or a million moments that can't be described in words, only in a certainty that nobody loves you like Mom does.
"O" means only that she's growing old.
In my eyes, we shall follow a certain family tradition and stop counting at age 39.
"T" is for the tears she shed to save me.
Well, she never had to plead my case and cry before a judge. But though I never saw it, I'm sure she shed a few tears when I was sad or when I upset her.
"H" is for her heart of purest gold.
My mom has taught me a lot about having a big heart. She does things that make other people feel good: a card, a visit, a "giving tree" gift. She doesn't neglect herself, but she knows how to share what she has.
"E" is for her eyes with love-light shining.
A mother looks at her child with many emotions. A knowing glance. A mischievous twinkle. An "I told you not to" glare. But behind each of those looks is the love of a mom. And sometimes, a look is all you need to feel that love.
"R" means right and right she'll always be.
On Mother's Day, everything a mother says or does is right. But you have to admit that there are definitely times on other days when Mother knows best, too. She's not going to intentionally steer you wrong. That doesn't mean you always have to agree, though. As we've often discussed, I no longer have to do as she says, but I always have to listen to what she says.
Put them all together they spell MOTHER,
a word that means the world to me.
The word "mother" is just that--a word. Just a particular arrangement of letters. It holds different meanings for each individual. But there's nothing like a mother. There may be days when I'm not as quick to admit it (and vice versa, I'm sure), but my mother does mean the world to me.
Happy Mother's Day!
"M" is for the million things she gave me.
Like pudding cake? That little white sweater? The way I sneeze "big"? Or a million moments that can't be described in words, only in a certainty that nobody loves you like Mom does.
"O" means only that she's growing old.
In my eyes, we shall follow a certain family tradition and stop counting at age 39.
"T" is for the tears she shed to save me.
Well, she never had to plead my case and cry before a judge. But though I never saw it, I'm sure she shed a few tears when I was sad or when I upset her.
"H" is for her heart of purest gold.
My mom has taught me a lot about having a big heart. She does things that make other people feel good: a card, a visit, a "giving tree" gift. She doesn't neglect herself, but she knows how to share what she has.
"E" is for her eyes with love-light shining.
A mother looks at her child with many emotions. A knowing glance. A mischievous twinkle. An "I told you not to" glare. But behind each of those looks is the love of a mom. And sometimes, a look is all you need to feel that love.
"R" means right and right she'll always be.
On Mother's Day, everything a mother says or does is right. But you have to admit that there are definitely times on other days when Mother knows best, too. She's not going to intentionally steer you wrong. That doesn't mean you always have to agree, though. As we've often discussed, I no longer have to do as she says, but I always have to listen to what she says.
Put them all together they spell MOTHER,
a word that means the world to me.
The word "mother" is just that--a word. Just a particular arrangement of letters. It holds different meanings for each individual. But there's nothing like a mother. There may be days when I'm not as quick to admit it (and vice versa, I'm sure), but my mother does mean the world to me.
Happy Mother's Day!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
'Tis the Season for Music
To some of you, that title may remind you of beer tents and grandstands. Bands from the '70s and '80s playing at fairs and festivals throughout the summer. But for me, it means performances at my son's high school and solo/ensemble competitions.
I'll admit right off the bat that I'm biased on this subject. I played clarinet for 20 years, starting in 5th grade. Once in awhile I'll be inspired to put it together and see if I can still make music. It all comes back to me well enough, but I don't have the chops to play more than maybe 20 minutes. My son has played violin for seven years. He's pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.
Watching and listening to these young musicians fills me with awe and pride. There is so much talent! Yet I know how much work goes into every performance, whether it's one person preparing for a solo or the entire orchestra.
First, I applaud music teachers. They select the music that will best showcase the group's skills. They position each musician where they are best suited. They teach not only how to play the piece as it's written on the page, but how to feel they way it should sound. I'm not going to get into a discussion about how much work teachers do or how much they are paid. But I will say that I believe music teachers are a special breed. The good ones earn the respect of their students while still educating them and having fun simultaneously. I remember having days when I didn't want to go to a particular class, but I'm pretty sure I always wanted to go to Band.
Individually, the students must all practice their parts. They take responsibility for making sure they are playing to the best of their ability. It's easy to see--or hear, actually--how one person fits into the grand scheme of things. Melody, harmony, rhythm line...all important to the finished product. Practice makes perfect! Each rehearsal builds toward a concert at the end of the semester. It's like a giant class project! Every person needs to practice their part on their instrument so when they all come together it the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Math nerds, grammar geeks, jocks, and loners all come together with a common goal: to make beautiful music. In many cases, students are playing with the same core group for four years. Let me tell you, that builds some incredible camaraderie! When graduation time came, I knew I would miss my bandmates more than most of my other classmates. And I could feel it at a recent school concert when the ensembles bid farewell to the seniors.
On top of the two (at least) concerts during the school year, there are often other performance opportunities. Smaller ensembles may play at community events. Solo/ensemble competitions give students a chance to concentrate on one particular piece, perhaps a solo or a chamber group, or any size in between. This is about doing your best work for you. A judge listens to you and gives feedback to you and gives a rating score to you. The musicians can push themselves to grow and really see what they can accomplish.
Discipline. Teamwork. Creativity. Pride. Aren't these skills and qualities we want to encourage in our children? Aren't they valuable in any field of study or eventual career path? Why would anyone think it makes sense to eliminate music education, in any season?
I'll admit right off the bat that I'm biased on this subject. I played clarinet for 20 years, starting in 5th grade. Once in awhile I'll be inspired to put it together and see if I can still make music. It all comes back to me well enough, but I don't have the chops to play more than maybe 20 minutes. My son has played violin for seven years. He's pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.
Watching and listening to these young musicians fills me with awe and pride. There is so much talent! Yet I know how much work goes into every performance, whether it's one person preparing for a solo or the entire orchestra.
First, I applaud music teachers. They select the music that will best showcase the group's skills. They position each musician where they are best suited. They teach not only how to play the piece as it's written on the page, but how to feel they way it should sound. I'm not going to get into a discussion about how much work teachers do or how much they are paid. But I will say that I believe music teachers are a special breed. The good ones earn the respect of their students while still educating them and having fun simultaneously. I remember having days when I didn't want to go to a particular class, but I'm pretty sure I always wanted to go to Band.
Individually, the students must all practice their parts. They take responsibility for making sure they are playing to the best of their ability. It's easy to see--or hear, actually--how one person fits into the grand scheme of things. Melody, harmony, rhythm line...all important to the finished product. Practice makes perfect! Each rehearsal builds toward a concert at the end of the semester. It's like a giant class project! Every person needs to practice their part on their instrument so when they all come together it the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Math nerds, grammar geeks, jocks, and loners all come together with a common goal: to make beautiful music. In many cases, students are playing with the same core group for four years. Let me tell you, that builds some incredible camaraderie! When graduation time came, I knew I would miss my bandmates more than most of my other classmates. And I could feel it at a recent school concert when the ensembles bid farewell to the seniors.
On top of the two (at least) concerts during the school year, there are often other performance opportunities. Smaller ensembles may play at community events. Solo/ensemble competitions give students a chance to concentrate on one particular piece, perhaps a solo or a chamber group, or any size in between. This is about doing your best work for you. A judge listens to you and gives feedback to you and gives a rating score to you. The musicians can push themselves to grow and really see what they can accomplish.
Discipline. Teamwork. Creativity. Pride. Aren't these skills and qualities we want to encourage in our children? Aren't they valuable in any field of study or eventual career path? Why would anyone think it makes sense to eliminate music education, in any season?
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Dark Shadows? I Doubt It!
I don't claim to be an expert on TV or films. I'm not a professional critic by any stretch of the imagination. I'm just a regular gal who likes what she likes. That being said...
I was watching the TV Land awards the other night. I can't resist nostalgia: clips from "old" shows, looking at the actors today. Seeing a snippet doesn't just remind me of the show. It reminds me of my life at that point in time. TV Land offers some of those shows for my viewing pleasure. MeTV also gives me some nuggets from the past. Now, I know that just because a show is old doesn't automatically make it good. But as I said, I like what I like.
A commercial came on for the new "Dark Shadows" film. I haven't watched any trailers, but I've seen a few ads. It looks like it might be kind of a "groovy flick." Johnny Depp is sure to be an asset. But from my limited knowledge, it doesn't seem to have much to do with the original series. Yes, there's a mysterious family in an old house, and there's a vampire. They may have the same character names, I don't know. But it looks like it's trying to be funny, or at least have some comedic moments. Have they made Barnabas a character that gets laughs? That's not the "real" Barnabas! Sure, if you watch the original series (thank you, Netflix!), you might get a few chuckles. But that's because it's so "dated," almost primitive by today's standards. It was a serious soap opera in its day, and creepy to boot. (I remember having a nightmare about Angelique when I was a child.)
My opinion? If you're going to take an old concept and try to update it, why not come up with a new name for it? Make a movie, if you'd like, about a vampire trying to adjust to life in a different era, looking for a bride or whatever. But it seems to me that if you reference a "classic," you should be honoring what that show was at that time. Continue the storyline with the same spirit. Or tell the same basic story with updated dialogue and effects. Have some respect for what made the show good in the first place.
I've seen some films based on '70s shows that were a lot of fun. It can be done. "Starsky & Hutch" and "The Brady Bunch" were funny in part because the characters were so much like the originals. Call it parody or good-natured ribbing, whatever. But I don't believe that Barnabas Collins would brush his fangs in front of a mirror or try to sleep in a carton with packing peanuts. That's not the "Dark Shadows" I know and love.
I was watching the TV Land awards the other night. I can't resist nostalgia: clips from "old" shows, looking at the actors today. Seeing a snippet doesn't just remind me of the show. It reminds me of my life at that point in time. TV Land offers some of those shows for my viewing pleasure. MeTV also gives me some nuggets from the past. Now, I know that just because a show is old doesn't automatically make it good. But as I said, I like what I like.
A commercial came on for the new "Dark Shadows" film. I haven't watched any trailers, but I've seen a few ads. It looks like it might be kind of a "groovy flick." Johnny Depp is sure to be an asset. But from my limited knowledge, it doesn't seem to have much to do with the original series. Yes, there's a mysterious family in an old house, and there's a vampire. They may have the same character names, I don't know. But it looks like it's trying to be funny, or at least have some comedic moments. Have they made Barnabas a character that gets laughs? That's not the "real" Barnabas! Sure, if you watch the original series (thank you, Netflix!), you might get a few chuckles. But that's because it's so "dated," almost primitive by today's standards. It was a serious soap opera in its day, and creepy to boot. (I remember having a nightmare about Angelique when I was a child.)
My opinion? If you're going to take an old concept and try to update it, why not come up with a new name for it? Make a movie, if you'd like, about a vampire trying to adjust to life in a different era, looking for a bride or whatever. But it seems to me that if you reference a "classic," you should be honoring what that show was at that time. Continue the storyline with the same spirit. Or tell the same basic story with updated dialogue and effects. Have some respect for what made the show good in the first place.
I've seen some films based on '70s shows that were a lot of fun. It can be done. "Starsky & Hutch" and "The Brady Bunch" were funny in part because the characters were so much like the originals. Call it parody or good-natured ribbing, whatever. But I don't believe that Barnabas Collins would brush his fangs in front of a mirror or try to sleep in a carton with packing peanuts. That's not the "Dark Shadows" I know and love.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Happy New Year!
Hey, wait a minute. It's April, not January!
As I was putting up a few Easter decorations the other day, I started thinking. (I know...that can be dangerous!) Maybe this is the time of year for fresh starts and new beginnings. Sure, a new year seems like the perfect time to turn over a new leaf with a new calendar page. But there usually aren't a lot of leaves around Wisconsin in January. Easter, on the other hand, feels so synonymous with spring for me. Birds chirping, trees budding, flowers blooming. Bunnies and chicks and a new dress and, with a little luck, no more winter coats (though we got off easy in that department this year).
If you celebrate a Christian Easter, it's obvious. Resurrection, rebirth, new life. This is the event that changes everything for believers. It's all "new" after Easter.
If you're in it just for the chocolate bunnies and the Peeps, it's still hard to deny the tulips and daffodils and that first chance to open the windows without running the furnace. It's time to get out of the winter doldrums and back into the sunshine and fresh air.
Now, I'll admit I'm not much for "resolutions." I think if I want to break a bad habit or start a good habit, I'm not motivated by a particular date. I'm not inspired to change just because it's a tradition or I'm supposed to do it. It's got to come from inside.
So while Mother Nature is waking up again from a long winter's nap, perhaps I'll start to shake off a few cobwebs myself. If she can do it, so can I. Let's see...I could blog more often. I've got plenty of books patiently waiting to be opened again. If I'd just play my clarinet for a few minutes on a regular basis, maybe I could get back into that groove. I should really have a more regular household chore routine. There are all sorts of things that are easier to undertake on a gorgeous spring day than in subzero temperatures. It just feels right at this time of year to send out the old and bring in the new.
Just don't hold me to any formal resolutions.
Happy Easter, and enjoy a glorious spring!
As I was putting up a few Easter decorations the other day, I started thinking. (I know...that can be dangerous!) Maybe this is the time of year for fresh starts and new beginnings. Sure, a new year seems like the perfect time to turn over a new leaf with a new calendar page. But there usually aren't a lot of leaves around Wisconsin in January. Easter, on the other hand, feels so synonymous with spring for me. Birds chirping, trees budding, flowers blooming. Bunnies and chicks and a new dress and, with a little luck, no more winter coats (though we got off easy in that department this year).
If you celebrate a Christian Easter, it's obvious. Resurrection, rebirth, new life. This is the event that changes everything for believers. It's all "new" after Easter.
If you're in it just for the chocolate bunnies and the Peeps, it's still hard to deny the tulips and daffodils and that first chance to open the windows without running the furnace. It's time to get out of the winter doldrums and back into the sunshine and fresh air.
Now, I'll admit I'm not much for "resolutions." I think if I want to break a bad habit or start a good habit, I'm not motivated by a particular date. I'm not inspired to change just because it's a tradition or I'm supposed to do it. It's got to come from inside.
So while Mother Nature is waking up again from a long winter's nap, perhaps I'll start to shake off a few cobwebs myself. If she can do it, so can I. Let's see...I could blog more often. I've got plenty of books patiently waiting to be opened again. If I'd just play my clarinet for a few minutes on a regular basis, maybe I could get back into that groove. I should really have a more regular household chore routine. There are all sorts of things that are easier to undertake on a gorgeous spring day than in subzero temperatures. It just feels right at this time of year to send out the old and bring in the new.
Just don't hold me to any formal resolutions.
Happy Easter, and enjoy a glorious spring!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
The Grass is Always Greener
I realized I hadn't written lately. So I sez to myself, "Self, what's on your mind?" And this is how I answered myself.
I've noticed that one of my human frailties is not being satisfied with the status quo. (And I bet I'm not the only one who feels that way at least occasionally.) For example...
It just doesn't seem like Christmas without snow on the ground.
How much do I have to shovel before I can even get out of the driveway?
My hair is so straight; I can't do anything with it!
These curls are driving me nuts. I feel like Little Orphan Annie!
Boy, the garden isn't going to make it if we don't get some rain soon.
If it keeps raining, I'm going to have to spend all summer just cutting the lawn!
Imagine what we could do with all that space!
It seems like as soon as I finish cleaning every room in the house, it's time to start the whole thing over again.
I wish I'd finally get a raise so I could catch up on these bills.
Geez, I could live on a little less if it meant I didn't absolutely hate my job!
Oh, this miserable heat and humidity.
The wind chill is what?!
I'd love to take that stuff off your hands, but my car's too small to carry it.
You should see what it costs just to fill this SUV at the gas station!
Just think of all the opportunities we'd have if we lived in the city!
The pollution, the noise, the crime...must be nice to live in the country.
I would, but...
If only...
I can't because...
I just wish I had...
We can come up with plenty of "reasons" why we aren't quite satisfied. That elusive x, y, or z that would make our lives complete and finally make us happy. It's easy to do if we're always comparing ourselves to other folks. Be honest--do you ever catch yourself thinking that everything would be great if (fill in the blank)? Well, guess what? Sometimes, we are the other folks. Somebody, somewhere is thinking that they'd be happy with the life we have.
So if you're convinced that the grass is, indeed, greener on the other side of the fence, you can either hop the fence and see what all the fuss is about on that side, or you can water your own lawn and grow some lush, green grass for yourself.
As for me? I think I'm going to try to just stop looking over the fence.
I've noticed that one of my human frailties is not being satisfied with the status quo. (And I bet I'm not the only one who feels that way at least occasionally.) For example...
It just doesn't seem like Christmas without snow on the ground.
How much do I have to shovel before I can even get out of the driveway?
My hair is so straight; I can't do anything with it!
These curls are driving me nuts. I feel like Little Orphan Annie!
Boy, the garden isn't going to make it if we don't get some rain soon.
If it keeps raining, I'm going to have to spend all summer just cutting the lawn!
Imagine what we could do with all that space!
It seems like as soon as I finish cleaning every room in the house, it's time to start the whole thing over again.
I wish I'd finally get a raise so I could catch up on these bills.
Geez, I could live on a little less if it meant I didn't absolutely hate my job!
Oh, this miserable heat and humidity.
The wind chill is what?!
I'd love to take that stuff off your hands, but my car's too small to carry it.
You should see what it costs just to fill this SUV at the gas station!
Just think of all the opportunities we'd have if we lived in the city!
The pollution, the noise, the crime...must be nice to live in the country.
I would, but...
If only...
I can't because...
I just wish I had...
We can come up with plenty of "reasons" why we aren't quite satisfied. That elusive x, y, or z that would make our lives complete and finally make us happy. It's easy to do if we're always comparing ourselves to other folks. Be honest--do you ever catch yourself thinking that everything would be great if (fill in the blank)? Well, guess what? Sometimes, we are the other folks. Somebody, somewhere is thinking that they'd be happy with the life we have.
So if you're convinced that the grass is, indeed, greener on the other side of the fence, you can either hop the fence and see what all the fuss is about on that side, or you can water your own lawn and grow some lush, green grass for yourself.
As for me? I think I'm going to try to just stop looking over the fence.
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