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 |  This was my first blog, maybe my best blog...nah! The journey continues with another..!
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Check out this signature's match at Thomas  's blog** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "You want to become aware of your thoughts and choose them carefully. You are the Michelangelo of your own life; the 'David' you are sculpting is YOU!" Dr. Joe Vitale
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| I used to embrace change. I think that part of me is still here, buried under all this angst and self doubt. Why the self doubt? Where did that come from?? I used to be one of those people who relished a challenge, no matter what kind, and prided myself on rising up to the task, accomplishing what would seem to be impossible. I know that in many cases I created those challenges because I need them, I'm an adrenaline junkie. So what's wrong with me? I used to deal with pressure and stress by barreling through it. I used to find creative solutions for difficult life situations and pat myself on the back for doing so. I want to get back to the person I used to be, is that possible? Has age altered my perception and ability to cope? Maybe a little, I answer myself, but not to this extent. I want to get back to the person who dealt with adversity by considering it nothing more than another life hurdle to overtake, and then I'd do whatever it took to get over it and move on. I never bogged myself down in worry and hand-wringing; it just wasn't my style. When my friend was here this last weekend and I shared the anxiety and sleepless nights I've experienced over my changing life circumstances, she gazed at me in surprise. She's known me for twenty years and she knows how I rise up to a challenge, how pressure usually serves as a motivator, not an immobilizer. "That's strange," she blurted out when I told her about my anxiety over the imminent need to find a job and a house, my worry about anything and everything going on in my life right now. "That's usually me, not YOU!" She's right. I'm the one who's always spouted to her in one form or another, "don't sweat the small stuff..." So what the heck? Where did I go and who is this angsty, hand-wringing worrywart in her place?? Somehow I have to make her disappear, flit off to wherever she came from, and bring back the person I've always been until recently. I'm embarking upon a search for my own skin. I misplaced it somewhere...! |
*Major honkin' happy dance* One of my bestest friends has returned to the Stateside of the globe, and how happy was I to see HER?!?!?! You have NO idea  Leah is my young friend in her twenties, my cool friend who looks quite a bit like Audrey Hepburn, my hip friend who is so like me in her thinking it's scary! Should I have this much in common with someone who was born a whole generation after me?? Reminds me of another friend of mine, one who's moving to Chicago soon *another happy dance* and his twenty-something name is The Shawnshank Redemption . *Psst, for those of you who know this strange person, I'll harass him mercilessly until he becomes active again*  Anywho, there's no possible way I could express the joy I found in spending time with this kindred spirit tonight. We played catch-up on each other's lives, although of course we've e-mailed each other over this last year. Leah has been to Taiwan, where she taught kindergarten children "English as a Second Language." Now the funny thing about Leah doing this is-well-to hear her before she took this job, you'd have thought she was auditioning to be the female version of that old-time movie star who "hated" children...what's his name again??? I knew better  Like I said, we're kindred spirits! What she does hate is ill-mannered, disrespectful, spoiled children. Amen, sister! So when she became this teacher to adorable little Asian children, she taught them her first rule that I pumped my fist upon hearing..."No bullying in Teacher Leah's classroom." Way to GO! When she'd catch a little one deliberately making another cry, saying hurtful things, etc, she'd sit them all down and lecture the tykes again on the evils of bullying...eventually I suspect they quit in self defense  Her second rule had to do with a basic premise you'd think youngsters would understand: Respect. When she heard any child in the school speaking rudely to a teacher, she'd call them on it. What appalled her was that...she was the only one. She couldn't believe the way those beautiful children were allowed to behave verbally towards authority figures, she told me. Uh huh. I voiced my own thought...Taiwan might be halfway around the world, but you could be talking about our own school district. What has happened, she asked me, to the way we were brought up? How cute is that, miss twenty-something asking ME that But really, I agree. When I teach, whether it's Sunday School, Scouts, or a public school classroom, I demand the respect I deserve and will accept nothing less. I will call a child on disrespect to any other teacher in my vicinity. I taught my own children to respect their teachers NO MATTER WHAT, and even Liz didn't cross that line...she knew better. I told them: "I don't care if you think the teacher is mean, unfair, rude, or wrong. She is your teacher, and because of that she will get your respect. We will address any issue you have between ourselves, and if I consider it a real complaint of merit, then I will approach the teacher myself...with the respect that position deserves.Could they be related issues? When a child is taught to respect authority, he is taught that his will is not the most important. He is taught that sometimes he must wait for what he wants or needs. He is taught that others have rights, too. Yes, I believe they connect. And children who learn respect earn the same. It's all uphill from there. I think of Lindsay Lohan, Brittney Spears...the only difference between these girls and some I taught is their fame and bank accounts. They will keep pushing and pushing until someone tells them NO. Until someone teaches them boundries, limits...and yes, respect for authority. Most specifically the law. Who taught these girls-and my former students-that the law doesn't apply to them??? It's a sad state of our culture when young people prove to the world that they are a lost generation in need of...boundries. Let's start with kindergartners from Taiwan to Tulsa. To yourselves and others: R-E-S-P-E-C-T.  *Yup, this is part of what we jabbered about at dinner. Told you we think alike--fun to have her back* |
| I cleaned out another closet...I can't decide if this is good or bad for me. I found another yearbook, this one from 1980--8th grade in MY time for any "puppies" out there Wow. Such memories that came roaring back at me as I flipped through the pages. 8th grade wasn't easy for me; I was not very good at "fitting in," and made fun of A LOT. I wasn't the normal type who was singled out, either. I wasn't dirty, ugly (an unfortunate part of Jr. High was being labeled this if one was buck-toothed or had tangled hair...), or even stupid! What I was...was unacceptable. By the second semester of my 8th grade year I resolved to stop caring about what "they" said and decided to write my own life story. I joined the drama club-and it was discovered that I was very good-and I tried out for the school newspaper. I was accepted, and for my first assignment I wrote about what it was like to be "the one" who was picked on, ostricized, pointed at, laughed at. I wrote about how it felt to be on the other side of the "popular crowd," the kids who had actually been my peers all through my grade school years until it was suddenly noticed that I didn't have the clothes, the style, or the money to really fit in, donthcha know. My town was a tough one if you didn't have that last one...the MONEY. We USED to have money, we USED to own those movie theaters, we USED to be "acceptable". But by then my mother had pretty much been cut off by her wealthier family members, was divorced, working as a nurse's aide...need I say more.  By the 8th grade I just didn't make the cut. Because I didn't make the cut they had to get me out of their circle somehow, so making fun of me was it. What fun I had that year. What fun.And actually I did. When I showed up to try out for the school play, other girls BEGGED me not try out for the parts they wanted--ah, vindicated!--but I tried out for the one I wanted, the character role actually, and GOT it. Heh heh. And I was good. Really, really good. So many kids signed my yearbook with, "congrats on such a great performance," "you're such a great actress," and so on. Very cool for a kid who started out on the bottom social rung. One-a particular thorn in my side throughout the first semester-actually wrote, "maybe I'll see you in the movies." Durn it.  And that article? Kids came up to me with furrowed brows, hoping I hadn't written about THEM. Of course I did, I would answer them earnestly, refusing to flinch from their gaze. What did you think? That I wrote about some OTHER group at some OTHER school? No. I wrote about YOU. THIS is what you did to me. What you do to others. Read it, ingest it, and STOP it. They didn't stop, of course, but they did stop with ME. And when I saw it with others I moved to stop it because I knew, first hand, how it felt. Who needs to go through that?? NO ONE dear administrators of our school districts. No one. I don't know, though. I saw the writing of one teacher-a GOOD teacher-my favorite teacher actually, and I wonder. She wrote..."You have so much potential if you would wake up and LIVE. Please do it. P Keaton." Mrs Keaton, I think I'm still snoozing. How about those teachers who can see right through to who you truly are?? Dang.  PS...Very weird occurrance...somehow I set this entry as "private" without having a clue I did so! And my blog links to the left are currently a work-in-progress, so never fear if your name isn't on it...some links were obselete and some I have to re-enter because my "erase" finger got overzealous, heh heh. Sigh. |
| Please give me your input... One of the freelance articles I'll be writing is for a relatively new little local magazine for young mothers of toddlers and preschoolers. Two young mothers recently started printing and distributing the mag--by the way, SueBear asked me how the offers came about; this one is a result of an ad they had for an editor to work from home, formatting their magazine. Unfortunately-or maybe not-that position was filled by the time I applied, but they did express interest in my writing abilities and background, as well as the "mother" aspect, and viola!!--Take your breaks where you can get 'em Anywho, here is where I need your help. They asked me how much I charge for an article. Um, I'm not sure  I've been paid for articles from another local mag, but only 25 dollars per article and I considered that way too low for the research I did. Now HERE the women don't want research, they want me to write an article, or perhaps even a series of articles, about looking back on mothering small children and what I consider to be essential and not-so-essential...that kind of thing. So HELP!!! What should I charge???Come to my rescue, writing friends. I'm stumped! |
| It's what I'm feeling this morning after attempting sleep that never comes and thinking way too much for my own good. PLEASE do not do the "sympathy" thing if you visit today because that's not what it's about. I want to vent my melancholy, that's ALL...I'm not feeling "down" per se, more I'm feeling like I've missed a cue somewhere, missed what my life was supposed to be about and who I was supposed to be by this point. I cleaned out my closets and found my old basic training "yearbook" from Fort Jackson, South Carolina in January 1987. I read what people wrote to me; I loved a girl named Patty's little missive: "I had a good time with you in basic even if your cheerfulness got on my nerves..." I was cheerful during basic training?!? Who knew...I'd forgotten. My platoon called me "Radar" because my chubby cheeks, dimples, and short stature with those horn rimmed black nightmare glasses they make you wear--well, I looked kinda like "Radar" on Mash Guess I was relentlessly cheerful like him too Other comments were along the same vein, how I kept everyone going with my positive attitude, yada yada. I read this stuff and hear this stuff about myself over and over again. I keep people upbeat, I keep people going, I'm relentlessly cheerful, I smile alot...How come I can't keep MYSELF positive, upbeat, cheerful, everything I seem to accomplish for everyone else? Where did I miss out on my own goodwill and largesse? I see myself in BIlly Joel's Where's the Orchestra. How the hell could I have missed the overture? Where did I get lost in my own head, in my own life? I picture myself, not in the balcony alone, but sitting crosslegged smack in the middle of the empty stage, wondering at the empty chairs in the audience, at the silence all around me...oppressive. I'm supposed to be the life of the party. So where's the party? How could I have missed it? I appreciate the roles of the actors all around me, the point of hidden meanings. I get it, I get it all. So why did I miss it somehow? Where's my music? Where's the dancers and the revelry that was supposed to be a part of MY life? Why am I sitting alone in a theatre that provides seating for hundreds, maybe thousands? Where's my blasted orchestra |
| I cough, therefore I am. This has been my life for the last four days or so...cough cough cough cough. Sleep for an hour. Cough cough cough cough. Get really crabby and then remorseful and then stupid from lack of air (of course this little cough thing is accompanied by asthmatic issues). What a great few days. Gag. Oops, sorry that was...well, you don't wanna know what that was. Like I wrote to Ŧĥē Beŋ , I'd sigh but I need the air. THIS SUCKS. *feeling monumentally sorry for myself* Poor poor pitiful me. Oh excuse me...COOOGGGHHHH  *post script* I should save it because I wrote the first over an hour ago and normally I don't edit and add so much so late but...ooh, excuse me, I'm on cough medicine with codiene and it doesn't make me sleepy but it does make me just a tad weird...sheesh. Anywho, I just checked an e-mail I haven't checked in a few days and...whaddya know, I have two freelance writing assignments!!! Go me *cough cough* Excuse me. AND not only that, there was a message on my phone from the Bettendorf School District, asking me to call back for a job interview!!! *cough cough* Uh oh. I don't think coughing on the interviewer will be advisable. Ah, mooore cough medicine is the answer! *glug glug* Hee hee, I'll tell you how it goes later *hic* Oh stop worryinging  *hic* Scuse me! (transportation for interview:  ish a red balloon *singing the song in German (I DO know German *hic* Scuse me)Codeine is cool  |
| I try not to always write the entries I feel tempted to because I don't like "offending" people, especially those I consider to be my friends, as I consider almost every person I've ever met on WDC. My topic of choice for this particular entry isn't exactly controversial, but it definately goes against what we've been taught from infancy and what society as a whole throws at us on an hourly basis: People do not need to be partnered up to be whole of have satisfying life experiences. There. I've said it. Television shows like Sex in the City are supposed to, ostensibly, promote women as being independent free spirits who engage in sexual experiences with the freedom and bravado with which men do...right? Oookay, but let's look at that pesky "big picture." Every woman in the show, no matter how much she "nay says" the issue, is actually looking for a man to sweep her off her feet and into wedded "happily ever after" bliss...included in the package will be 2.4 little perfectly behaved kiddies and an SUV in the 'burbs. C'mon, there are even some episodes where the women ADMIT to wanting exactly that. Okay, the Carrie Bradshaw character may want to stay in New York and empty every shoe store on Madison Avenue, but she wants to do it with "her man's" credit card Give me a break!!! I'm sick of every media source in the world depicting women as empty vessels if they don't have "Mr Right" or "Mr Almost-Right" at their sides. BULLSHIT. Now don't get me wrong, there are plenty of men and women out there who really DO want to be partnered up for life and that's fine and great and I hope they get everything they want out of life, but not EVERYONE is the same. Not EVERYONE wants to be partnered up. It's just a fact and I don't have to feel like a freak for being one of those people. I've "been there and done that." I've compromised and lived with another person's ideas that have to blend with mine and the negotiations out the BUTT to reach some sort of conclusion that will satisfy everyone. I've done someone else's laundry, cooked their food, nagged to get a chore or two out of the "partner," and generally exhausted myself bending over backwards to be agreeable. And NO I don't think every partnership is like that, but I've discovered about myself something vital: I LIKE being in charge of my own destiny. Just me, no one else whose opinion matters. I LIKE being able to choose every single thing for myself without consulting another person or bending to another opinion. I LIKE being on my own, alone, ready to tackle whatever I want to without worrying about what anyone else will think or want. In my personal life choices, I'm selfish. And I don't see myself changing anytime soon. That doesn't mean I don't enjoy companionship and great conversation and perhaps other "perks" that come with finding someone who "clicks" with me. That's FUN, isn't it?? There's just nothing like that electric rush of feeling attracted to someone and I wouldn't give it up, no way...a good reason I was pretty flirty in my younger days That doesn't mean I'm looking for FOREVER...because I'm not. When the evening is over, I want to go to my place and just BE the way I like to BE. So is it acceptable to WANT to be single and enjoy the company of others WITHOUT searching for some partner in the mist? Is it okay to embrace my autonomy and revel in independence? I don't give a flying pig's butt if it's considered "weird" in the partner frenzy of this crazy society...it's who I am. Shoot, it's who I was years ago but I didn't know it because I was so mired in the messages we get bombarded with from day one...at least now I think I'm old enough to snort at what "they" say I should want and go my own way towards satisfaction and happiness. There are more like me out there, you know. But we are a secret society of minorities because it's not supposed to be "what we want." Too bad, I'm "outing" us. We are the single minority who wish to STAY that way. |
I have started a new contest and am eagerly awaiting entries because I'm like a kid in a candy shop when I do a contest! So...if you have written, will write, or WANT to write a story that will fit, Oh I can't WAIT to start getting entries *jumping up and down like a crazed middle aged twit*
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Sarah's birthday today, she's thirteen. When did that happen  When did I become the parent of a thirteen year old, eighteen year old almost off to college, and a nineteen year old, closer to twenty now--man, I feel oooold.Believe me parents of young children, you think it will be YEARS before you have to worry about all the stuff that comes with adolescents in your home and then young adults...nope. It happens on the sly, when you're not even looking--or ready. I know, for myself, that when my children were small I looked forward to the day they'd be older and more self sufficient. YAY, I thought, there will be a day when I don't have to accompany them to the bathroom, cut their food, give them their baths, make every little decision about their lives and care...well, that much is true. What I didn't see coming was the mental anguish which rides on the heels of watching them make their OWN choices, sometimes knowing those choices will not turn out the way they think. Life seldom turns out the way we think, and watching my kids learn that in sometimes painful ways is more heart wrenching than going through it myself. I wasn't prepared for THAT. I didn't know how much harder it is to watch them and bite my tongue when I should, KNOWING I should, but wanting so much to run over to them and make it right. But that wouldn't be "good parenting" and I know it. Wow, and I thought taking care of their physical needs was tough. Not even close to this. So I have a third teenager who is embracing her entrance into full blown adolescence. I'm glad I've been through it twice already because I know when "not to sweat the small stuff, and it's ALL small stuff." I know when to let it go, when to go into "lecture mode," when to bite the tongue and let her fall, which will hurt me way more than her--I know that now, too. |
| I spent time twisting and turning during the time when most are slumbering, but I feel fantastic! I actually came to a wonderful conclusion during the course of my overactive brain's nightly marathon: I'm NOT responsible for everyone in my life!!! That sounds like a "duh" even to myself, but as Voxxylady  pointed out so eloquently in her comment, that simple fact gets lost somewhere in the mire and muck of a "fixer's" world. terryjroo recently blogged her own entry about her tendency to mother those around her, and yup, that would be me. I have to STOP or take some stock options in the manufacturers of Prozac, and I really don't want to do that.So...I can be a strong person, a compassionate person, a caring person without driving myself to a psychiatric ward. I can focus on myself and my kids without feeling guilty when I say "NO" to extended family and friends who ask more of me than I'm capable of providing right now. I have the ability and the responsibility to MYSELF and those close to me to take CARE of me by knowing when I'm biting off more than I can chew.. That would be what I've done for the last few years. I'm DONE with that. Sure sure, I'm like an addict who will have to remind myself that I'm not obligated to everyone who needs a hand...sometimes the best hand given to someone is no hand at all. I'll keep pounding that into my brain as I skip with a light step from the release of those mountains I know I've shared umpteen song lyrics lately, but I can't help it when lyrics speak to me...and here I go again. I love this song and lament that "Savage Garden" didn't last past two cds I really loved. This was on their second one and I couldn't believe the first time I heard it because it's what I believe, and appropriately it's called Affirmation: I believe the sun should never set upon an argument I believe we place our happiness in other people's hands I believe that junk food tastes so good because it's bad for you I believe your parents did the best job they knew how to do I believe that beauty magazines promote low self-esteem I believe I'm loved when I'm completely by myself alone I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye I believe you can't control or choose your sexuality I believe that trust is more important than monogamy I believe your most attractive features are your heart and soul I believe that family is worth more than money or gold I believe the struggle for financial freedom is unfair I believe the only ones who disagree are millionaires I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye I believe forgiveness is the key to your unhappiness I believe that wedded bliss negates the need to be undressed I believe that God does not endorse TV evangelists I believe in love surviving death into eternity I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye Songs should be poems set to music. Those are the kind I love and showcase. |
How astute of Kåre Enga in Montana  to notice what completely bypassed my own realization...my blog turned TWO on July 30th!I've been busy and kind of dry on the creative side of things, how sad for me, but I was jump started this evening after sitting through the new Hairspray movie--how cool is that movie??? VERY in my humble opinion! The Tracy Turnblatt character-how cute is she?? A heavy girl who doesn't seem to care that she's heavy OR pay a lot of attention to what anyone else thinks of her stout body...she smiles and sings and dances through Baltimore like she doesn't have a care in the world Now two-thirds through the movie, she does make a statement that might get lost in the shuffle of dancing feet: she tells her father (Christopher Walken) that she's realized she lives in a bubble, and that things won't change for the better unless people like her stand up and MAKE them better. What a mouthful. My youngest daughter has had "Hairspray" fever for probably over a year, which was the first time she watched a dance company perform one of the numbers from the musical. Since then she's been singing the soundtrack to that musical at the top of her lungs, so it was in self defense that I was finally able to set aside time to take her to the new movie version. It wasn't too long ago that I rented her the older one with Rikki Lake as Tracy Turnblatt (who makes a cameo appearance in the new one), and I had no idea what a great history lesson it would be. If you don't know the story...Tracy Turnblatt is a high school girl who loves to dance dance dance-gee, why does Sarah love the show so much -and she loves anyone who loves it, TOO! Thus she can't understand the idea of segregation in 1962, the idea that there has to be a "negro day" on "The Corny Collins Show" instead of everyone dancing together. Through the course of the story she works to change things and...well, I won't be a spoiler if you haven't seen the movie or musical. I love to dance too, and as a woman of size I could identify with some of her mother's (played by John Travolta believe it or not; the mother of Tracy is always played in drag by a man) fears and phobias, but I sure root for Tracy's character as a girl who pays no attention to those who judge her by her size or anything else. You GO girl!!! I'm amazed that John Waters, the original writer of Hairspray, is so in tune with women and what they think. Strange!! And I do love the message that movie sends about difference and how it doesn't matter what color your skin is or what part of town you come from--or how much you weigh. What matters is who you are inside your soul....YEAH!!! *dancing away to "Welcome to the '60s...* Hey mama hey mama, Look around Everybody's groovin' to a brand new sound Hey mama hey mama, Follow me 1 know something's in you That you wanna set free So let so, go, go of the past now Say hello to the love in your heart Yes, 1 know that the world's spinning fast now You gotta get yourself a brand new start Hey mama, welcome to the 60's Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh Oh mama, welcome to the 60's Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh Go mama, go, go, go! |
| You have to learn to pace yourself Pressure You're just like everybody else Pressure You've only had to run so far So good But you will come to a place Where the only thing you feel Are loaded guns in your face And you'll have to deal with Pressure You used to call me paranoid Pressure But even you cannot avoid Pressure You turned the tap dance into your crusade Now here you are with your faith And your Peter Pan advice You have no scars on your face And you cannot handle Pressure All grown up and no place to go Psych 1, Psych 2 What do you know? All your life is channel 13 Sesame Street What does it mean? (I'll tell you what it means) Pressure Pressure Don't ask for help You're all alone Pressure You'll have to answer To your own Pressure I'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationale But here you are in the ninth Two men out and three men on Nowhere to look but inside Where we all respond to Pressure Pressure All your life is Time Magazine I read it too What does it mean? Pressure I'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationale But here you are with your faith And your Peter Pan advice You have no scars on your face And you cannot handle Pressure Pressure Pressure One, two, three, four Pressure It's what I feel, so as usual Billy Joel says it best. Pressure from all sides. Too many people who need care and I don't feel like enough. I don't know where to get everything they all need...and who will provide me with the stability and calmness to deal with it all. I just dealt with several days of extended family here, and of course I did it with a smile on my face and smooth sailing--on the outside. Inner turmoil reigned, of course. But the kids were happy, that's cool, and I am only a few ulcers richer. Too many people needing too much from me...I've fantasized about running far far away to a land where no one needs nothin'. But of course I will not, and this will pass, and I'll be "the strong one" because that's just what I am, who I am. At least so "they" think. |
| I spent the afternoon, well into evening, "helpling" my two younger daughters clean their room and trying to remember why I shouldn't kill these people who are die hard, professional pack rats; this is difficult for me to understand because I am NOT someone who has to keep objects of little or no value...you know, like empty water bottles and soda cans I swear it's true: those two get so worried about throwing out "something good" that they end up throwing NOTHING out and once again-this happens every couple of months-I have to herd them into their room, give them the rote lecture about controlling their pack rat natures, and teach them to THROW STUFF AWAY! They have to share a room but believe me, it's a very large one with plenty of space for all their necessary possessions. After this bimonthly purge/lecture, they really do try, the poor things. But by the end of month one they start to backslide, and by the end of month two, forget it. There once was a floor in their room...*irritation* Sigh. They come by this pack rat gene quite naturally. My mom is one, big shock. She does love her boxes...see, when I was a kid everything was in boxes, and I mean EVERYTHING. You have no idea. We lived in a maze of boxes but it was just life for me so I shrugged and dealt with it. After I was grown and gone she switched to trash bags, we don't know why. I think these were a little less easy, personally. When I'd visit her she'd have one twin bed in her room piled high-and precariously-with these bags, and no matter where we went, she had to carry at least two of those things at all times. Sure, anyone who doesn't know my mom would stare with a peculiar expression, but since she lives in a small town and most DO know her...well, she's "eccentric." That's my mom This last time we were there I discovered she's back to boxes, so it's a return to the mazes. My kids have no hope because their father and his entire family are pack rats from waaaay back. Crap.The best stories about my two younger additions to the pack rat way: when Rachael was about four I went into her room to clean and found piles upon piles of...McDonald's Happy Meal boxes shoved under her bed How she managed to keep this habit from me I'll never figure out, but my tiny, blond haired blue eyed angelic child had at least a year's worth of those things! And when she found me throwing them away she stood beside me and sobbed like I was tossing out every Christmas toy. Sheesh. It was then I knew what Rachael's great life challenge would be...letting go.Sarah's peronality "quirk" was uncovered when she, too, was four. Coincidence? Back then she had her own room, a shell pink color with frilly curtains-you get the picture. For months I couldn't figure out the foul odor that seemed to permeate this pretty room; I scoured every inch but still the smell was there, getting increasingly worse! One day, with a wrinkled nose, I decided to clean out her dresser drawers. When I idly opened a small side drawer that I put nothing of hers in What I found to be the source of the horrific dead smell turned my stomach and caused me to reel back in self defense; my adorable little girl had somehow snuck her colored EASTER EGGS by me and stuck them in this drawer. I picked a sunny day in JULY to open this unused drawer. An amusing family tale was born and I knew then that ooh boy, another pack rat for the mix. Sigh.Thank God Liz is like me and I'm like my grandmother was, my mother's mom, ironically enough. We are the kind of people who just don't get "their" obssession with STUFF. Geez, last summer I threw away a pile of National Geographics that Rachael never even looked at after she proudly trudged them home from the library (an activity which garnered her a discussion about shlepping used items home too frequently), and you'd have thought I severed her arm. I try to be as understanding as possible, but if those two were allowed to keep everything they want-which is EVERYTHING-we'd have to find a new place to live and keep this one for their STUFF. Sheesh Is there a Pack Rats Anonymous?? Sigh. |
| I like books. I think everyone here knows that I like books. A lot. In fact I hope to write a book that gets published one day, so of course I'm an advocate of the written word. I like Harry Potter. I think he's a great literary character and his world is amazing and so much fun to jump into, exactly the sort of book I like best. These are the kinds of stories where you can't put it down or risk your brain's extreme rebellion...at least mine is that way! When I'm so engrossed in a book that my world seems less real than the one in print...ah, then I'm transported and when I return I am refreshed The ultimate vacation for me is between the pages of an adventure that captures me and doesn't let go until the journey is ended.That said, I'm still annoyed. I'm annoyed by the hype and hoopla surrounding Harry Potter. It's not because I don't love him and his intriguing stories. It's not because I begrudge JK Rowling's stratospheric success--actually that's pretty cool, it gives the rest of us who pound the keyboard and pour tales from our heads a bit of hope--but like everything else in our current society, it's the excess, so much of it It seems like we can't enjoy anything as a culture these days without OVERDOING it. We who live mundane, everyday existances used to be interested in hearing about the lives of celebrities. When my mother was young and her family owned movie theaters, she and her sister and friends would "ooh" and "aah" over movie stars and singers that were showcased and pictured in fan magazines. My mother loved to talk about the ones she liked best; Debbie Reynolds springs to my mind because she still loves her to this day. So the fan mags sold well, right? Technology speeds up and suddenly the fan mags become obselete because we have E Entertainment Network which follows a "star's" every move, and if she picks her nose, it's news! Paparazzi takes on a life of its own because pictures of celebrities sell for a price most of us pay for our first house. WHY??? Excess. Movies used to be fun, enjoyable escapism for an hour or two. Then it's over. But now we don't have movies, we have blockbusters. If you haven't seen the latest blockbuster that holds a billion dollar pricetag, you just don't know what you're missing. Every movie that's released-at least the blockbusters-has to include better and bigger special effects, better and bigger everything. Excess. And so it goes with Harry and his magical world. It's a great book, a fantastic story, a fun read. Ookay...millions and millions of dollars were spent on armed gaurds and electronic equipment to insure that no one would get a peek at the new book before midnight last night. Never mind that people in Africa are dying of aids for the want of simple anti viral drugs or children in third world countries are still starving to death. HELLO!!! Millions on security for a CHILDREN'S BOOK!!!! And I know this is going to seem weird to some, but I'd never want the kind of success Rowling enjoys. Good grief, how could she ever top the phenomenon that is her Harry Potter book series?! And with all the money she is now rolling in, would she even be motivated to try? I'm a writer, pure and simple. I want to be successful enough to make a living at it, but I don't want excess. I guess that puts me in a minority category. |
| I've been reading Chicago and the American Century by F. Richard Ciccone, not a shocking choice for those who read my blog a few days ago I spied this book at my local library, and being the great lover of history and Chicago, I snapped it up. Some things I've learned from reading it have really surprised me--did you know the Harlem Globetrotters are NOT from Harlem in New York? I know there's a Harlem in Chicago; it never dawned on me that the 'Trotters could be from THERE! But they are. Who knew??Some facts have strangely been depressing. As I read the anals of "the ten greatest politicians" of Chicago...well, there weren't very many HONEST great politicians. Given Chicago's colorful and checkered past that's not too surprising, but it did get my mind churning. Chicago wasn't the only place notorious for crooked city government-New York is right up there with it. I'm sure there are other major cities with their own infamous politicians, and I wonder: can any politician be consistently honest? Is there any politician out there who's REALLY about public service? Or is that a cotton candy sort of idea  Most of the people showcased in this book aren't all bad; they did some great work while they passed money to and from mobsters under their governmental tables. Bill Thompson, Chicago's mayor for three terms, was Al Capone's best friend. Ewww!!! But he created the Navy Pier and spearheaded the building of a bridge across Michigan Avenue, which gave birth to one of the most famous shopping districts in the country. Of course he was also the mayor on the day of the St Valentine's Day Massacres. Crazy. I'm a believer of the old adage that "those who do not learn from history are destined to repeat it," and I get worried that when too much time has passed since the "day of the big boss" in politics, we forget. It slips our minds to demand that those who run our governments-from the city to the county to the state to the nation-remain true to who they were the first day they decided to serve the public. That they persist in listening and adhering to the needs and wants of their constituants, and that they strive to be the servants they are SUPPOSED to be when they are elected into political power, no matter how small the power is. This song may seem out of context with my entry here, but it's not. I put on a jazz mix cd of mine and it put a smile on my face: Who can take a sunrise, sprinkle it with dew Cover it with choc'late and a miracle or two The Candy Man, oh the Candy Man can The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good Who can take a rainbow, wrap it in a sigh Soak it in the sun and make a groovy lemon pie The Candy Man, the Candy Man can The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good The Candy Man makes everything he bakes satisfying and delicious Now you talk about your childhood wishes, you can even eat the dishes Oh, who can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream The Candy Man, oh the Candy Man can The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good The Candy Man makes everything he bakes satisfying and delicious Talk about your childhood wishes, you can even eat the dishes Who can take tomorrow, dip it in a dream Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream The Candy Man, the Candy Man can The Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good Yes, the Candy Man can 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good a-Candy Man, a-Candy Man, a-Candy Man See, that's what we need, an ideal political candidate...someone who paints rainbows, mixes everything he does with love, and makes the world taste good. (yeah, that was sappy, but oh well)And by the way, NOBODY sings it like Sammy Davis, Jr |
I recieved a merit badge from Princess Megan Rose 22 Years  about a week ago, and I loved it:![Merit Badge in Psychology
[Click For More Info]
Thank you Susan for participating in IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU PSYCHOLOGY ACTIVITY. Bless you. Love: Megan](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Psychology-1320.gif) Pretty cool! Princess Megan Rose 22 Years has started to write and distribute an "unofficial newsletter" concerning mental health issues. For one newsletter she decided to ask for reader input and participation, a very interesting idea I thought. I responded to her request by thoroughly answering one of the three questions she posted, and she sent me the merit badge I'd link the newletter but I'm not sure Megan would want me to do that, so for now I've decided to share my entry to her forum question which was: Name ten things you would like to do in this lifetime: 1. I want to do the work it takes to become a published author. Notice I didn't say "I want to BE a published author." That old saying is too true: The difference between a published and an unpublished writer is persistence and perserverence. Period. 2. I want to lose weight through diet and exercise. Again, it's about perserverence and persistence. I want to live a healthier life and feel better all over. 3. I want to get through college, obtain my much-coveted degree, and keep working my way upwards to a PhD!!! I love to learn and I love school. I have changed my field of study from English to psychology and I feel GREAT about that change...now once again, I have to do the work to get to my goals. 4. I want to actively help my kids become the best, most successful people they can be. I don't mean "successful" in monetary terms, I mean it in LIFE terms. To be satisfied with life choices is to be content, happy, and most especially SUCCESSFUL. This is what I want for my kids. 5. I want to do something in my life that will change the course of someone's life FOR THE BETTER. I want to do something to change the face of this world before I leave it...change it in an upward motion! 6. I want to travel! I want to breathe in New York City's Broadway, walk the streets of London, take lunch at a sidewalk cafe in Paris! I want to visit every state of this country and leave my mark wherever I go, whatever that mark may be 7. I want to live completely on my own, alone. Sounds weird, but I've never done that. I went from my mother's home to a college dorm, to a friend's house, to the military, to a home I shared with a husband, then kids... I want to experience an independent life. 8. I want to see my oldest daughter become stable and productive. Her bipolar disorder tends to rule who she is at this point, and I'd give almost anything to somehow figure out how to get her stable...for her to understand her NEED for stability. I want her to be content, and she never will be as long as her emotions rule her life. 9. I want to cook! Seems small and minute, but I've never had the time or energy to pursue what I think would be a very fulfilling hobby for me. I LOVE to cook; I collect cookbooks and read them wistfully, not having the finances, time, or people who would be patient with me while I create new delights. Sigh. 10. I want to be able to take care of my mother and aunt. Right now my mom has to stop working, my aunt hasn't worked in years, and my mom's social security is all they have. I did contact the senior center in their area and they now have good, nutritious food being sent to them, but I feel terminal guilt that I can't do MORE. I want to have enough money to send myself and my kids through college AND help my elderly family members enjoy their twilight years. Fingers crossed, eyes closed in prayer...and oh yeah, getting off my duff to work at selling my writing while I find a great paying job!!! Not too much to ask of life, right?!? Now I have a question of my own...what do YOU want to accomplish in YOUR lifetime? Name as many as you wish, but putting your "woulds" into print cements them in your head. SO??? |
| I've been busy this weekend, another Chicago trek and a friend who spent the weekend with us. I needed this weekend; I love my friend and I LOVE Chicago!!! It was so much fun introducing her to my favorite city. We didn't do much besides walk down North Michigan Avenue (the Magnificent Mile) and stroll along the Navy Pier, but we made plans for future sojurns and that was fun, too! It's great to have a friend who shares most of my interests. She loves museums, although she's more partial to art museums and I truly adore the history ones, but we agree to combine the two. The music is jazzy/blues with some funk mixed into it and you can hear it on almost every streetcorner. The theater district is too amazing for WORDS!!! People like Gary Sinise and Laurie Metcalfe (Jackie on Roseanne) got their starts in Chicago theatre; BOY are we set for activities to enjoy in Chicago for the next year! We both agreed that we could spend a week in that city and still have more to see and do. What a great place The weather was absolutely PERFECT, we couldn't have ordered better ourselves. There was a lovely cool breeze that swept in from Lake Michigan and brought the scent of lake water with it...I breathed it deep into my lungs and I think I could actually see myself bobbing in the water--on a sailboat, of course That's what I love most about Chicago...the mixture of city and marina, urban pollution and pure watery air. Rachael is SO LUCKY, and so am I to get the opportunity to visit her this next year--A LOT Oh yes, she had an interview with the Honors Department of Roosevelt University, and I think she's pretty much wrapped it up, how cool is THAT! It's way cool that she'll participate in classes about the architectural history of Chicago-which is rich and so beautiful-plus she'll get more scholarship money *happy dance*So OF COURSE I'm inspired to share a song--to go along with the song in my heart: Chicago, Chicago that toddling town Chicago, Chicago I will show you around - I love it Bet your bottom dollar you lose the blues in Chicago, Chicago The town that Billy Sunday couldn't shut down On State Street, that great street, I just want to say They do things they don't do on Broadway They have the time, the time of their life I saw a man, he danced with his wife In Chicago, Chicago my home town Chicago, Chicago that toddlin' town Chicago, Chicago I'll show you around - I love it Bet your bottom dollar you lose the blues in Chicago, Chicago The town that Billy Sunday could not shut down On State Street, that great street, I just want to say They do things that they never do on Broadway -- say They have the time, the time of their life I saw a man and he danced with his wife In Chicago, Chicago, Chicago -- that's my home town |
| Something I won't miss about living on a military base: transitions. I was supposed to host a jewelry party this past week--still having to somehow "mea culpa" to kelly1202 and her friend Jennifer. Jennifer is the one who sells Lia Sophia jewelry. When I attended Highwind's party in May, I was truly jazzed by the idea of hosting one of my own. I don't usually "do" parties like that, but the jewelry is tasteful and I am surrounded, in my little home on the Rock Island Arsenal, by officers and their wives. We don't pay rent or a mortgage to live here, we don't pay utilities. We also don't recieve the money we would if we lived off base and in the community, but believe me, much more money is spent to pay bills than what the military pays for it So for officers, who make three times what an enlisted does, I thought, "Yum! I could make Kelly's friend Jennifer some money and contacts!" Siggggh. My mother got sick and there went the first party. Upon my return from Oklahoma last week, I was greeted by at least three moving vans...well dang it. I hadn't considered a simple fact of military life. Transition. If you've never been military you may not understand the concept. To explain it simply, my oldest daughter attended nine schools in all before we settled in Moline, Illinois and I put my foot down--NO MORE MOVING! My middle daughter has attended eight different schools and my youngest...merely three. She was in the second grade when my foot went down and I've never been more sure of a decision in my life. Part of the reason their father and I have had "a parting of the ways" has much to do with that foot...he simply couldn't understand why I wouldn't move the kids again to HIS location, instead making HIM commute 70 miles a day. It stuck in his craw and never left, dug deep and made him so resentful. For my part, I couldn't understand why he has an inability to put the needs of his children before himself. That was beyond me and spoke of many differences between us. The rift only got wider, but that's another story. THIS story has to do with seeing families move on after nine months, a year, and two years at one location. This is the way the army has always done things. Well excuse me, but this way STINKS and I don't see the reason for it. Perhaps there was some rational reason when our country was younger and war was less technical and more contingent upon human hands in certain job areas, but not now. Now the only reason our military sees fit to throw soldiers and families hither and yon is because....that's just the way they've always done it. That's a STUPID REASON to keep uprooting soldiers, wives, and most especially children. Children need a community. Yeah yeah, I'm not a big Hillary fan but her book title is RIGHT: "It takes a village to raise a child." I am utterly convinced that Liz, even with her bipolar issues, would have fared better with a community connection she never had. She and her sister were never invested in a place and its people the way I've seen my youngest become, and I'm sad for what they've missed because of it. That's not to say they had a rotten childhood--they both had far from that!--but still, a sense of BELONGING matters, and that's something they missed out on for a long time. It took awhile, but Rachael finally found it. She began to shine the last couple of years that she was at Moline High School. She found friends and a sense of belonging she'd missed for too long, and I can see in her a new sort of peace as she exchanged addresses and phone numbers with her high school friends, knowing that she finally has a place to call "home." That's important. Too many "military brats" never are able to find home. Where is that when you've lived for a couple of years in every state of the union, and maybe a foreign country or two? No matter what anyone tries to say, travel and "new faces" doesn't make up for no place to call home. It just doesn't. So I'll be glad to move off of the Arsenal, as expensive as it will be. Even though Sarah has not been one to move, she's had her heart bruised by the constant loss of friends, the constant changing of her circle of neighbors. The Arsenal is a wonderful place in many ways; it's safe for children to run around-I mean there are guards and/or water at every possible entrance-and I know Liz wasn't able to act out the way she COULD have if we hadn't lived here, hee hee, but its time for us has passed. It's time to find a home for my kids where the neighbors don't rotate and we're not constantly greeted by moving vans after a four day vacation. Maybe I'll even be able to host a jewelry party without worrying about who's moving now. |
| Excuse my silence; a monster ear infection silenced me in many ways At first I had no idea what would cause the intense throbbing in my head near my ear area-duh-but medication has become my salvation! One day after taking a simple antibiotic, I believe that I will live. If the pain I have endured is anything close to what an infant/small child deals with during an ear infection, I have new sympathy. It HURTS!!! A week ago I mentioned that I would share pictures of Greensburg, Kansas as it looks today. To get the full effect, I wish I had some "before" shots, but picture a typical small town in the Southwest (or anywhere I expect), with some houses on its main street along with businesses, a park, and people and dogs who walked and ran along sidewalks beside the road. And now: ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This is the road through Greensburg, hwy 54. Before this it was houses, businesses... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The parking lot of the Kwik Stop ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Piles like this dot the landscape ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Trees like these were everywhere that houses, parks, and yards used to be. This sight was, to me, the most chilling of all. My kids and I couldn't help but wonder at the devestation in one little town compared to so many surrounding areas that remained completely untouched. Chilling isn't the word. |
I didn't know it was possible to be this tired and still be awake. Soon I believe my brain will rebel and I will be snoring whether I want to or not  First things first: I traveled South to visit my mother and other extended family, but first I stopped in Lawrence, Kansas to meet a wdc buddy in the flesh--Kåre Enga in Montana ! I'm so glad I did It wasn't hard to follow his directions, and we (Rachael, Sarah, and Buddy the dog) were privilaged enough to see his house. He has a big yard (I think Buddy was jealous) and some beautiful trees about which he waxed poetic, big surprise We got to enjoy the atmosphere of "Aimee's", Kare`'s favorite coffee haunt and I liked it, could recall his writing about different aspects of it. What I determined about our wonderfully talented blog friend: his mind works in so many different ways at once! He describes something, like a tree or a photograph, while at the same time his mind begins the process of creating the lovely poems we are lucky to enjoy. He is knowledgable, well read, and pretty darn witty And when the conversation turned to Liz and her challenges, as usual he was so very helpful, giving me some great ideas to follow up on when I return home. Talking to him about her is cathartic for me because it's obvious he gets exactly what I feel...not just what I go through, but what I FEEL; could I ask for a better friend? I don't think so! I'm richer for having spent time with him. So after a couple of hours in Lawrence we continued on our journey, and Greensburg, Kansas is a part of it. There are no words to describe what we saw and the complete shock we experienced to look upon such devastation. How I couldn't believe my own eyes and tears squeezed out from the corners of my eyelids. If you've ever seen the results of a bomb falling directly onto one single, small town, then you'd know what we saw. As I walked slowly into the newly erected Kwik Shop with a cardboard sign, standing alone in the midst of so much rubble, I couldn't help thinking about my own "problems"...puts it all in perspective. I'll share pictures in my next entry; you will experience new respect for those tornado sirens. |
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