Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Memo:'s all about MeMe! No, I'm not sorry.

Things That Scare Me
1. Public speaking
2. Motorcycles
3. Passing out while giving blood (???)

People That Make Me Laugh
1. Kate
2. Morgan
3. Kathleen Madigan

Things I Love
1. Diet Coke
2. Training
3. Sunshine

Things I Hate
1. Cold
2. Flying bugs
3. Tobacco

Things I Don't Understand
1. Why it’s taking so long to build my house (SERIOUSLY.)
2. Why, despite training more & eating less, my f**king scale will.not.budge.
3. Why it is always freezing in my office

Things on my Desk
1. A phone that never rings
2. A note to call Kevin
3. A thin sheet of ice

Things I'm Doing Right Now
1. Sniffling because my nose is cold
2. Glancing down the hallway
3. Trying to look busy

Three Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. See my girls have children of their own
2. Write a book.
3. Run a marathon. Travel through the Grand Canyon in a dorie. Karaoke in a
bar full of strangers.

Things I Can Do
1. Change a bike and car tire
2. Clean the hell out of a bathroom
3. Make you smile

Things You Should Listen To
1. The chime reminding you to put on your seatbelt
2. Fire alarms
3. Your heart

Things You Should Never Listen To
1. Your heart
2. Alarm clocks
3. Drunk people

Things I Would Like To Learn
1. How to cook meals my children will eat
2. Patience
3. Patience while attempting to cook

Favorite Foods
1. Breakfast
2. Lunch
3. Dinner

Favorite Beverages
1. Diet Coke
2. Cold skim milk
3. Lemon-lime gatorade

TV Shows I Watched, Books I Read as a Kid
1. Brady Bunch
2. Entire Little House on the Prairie set
3. the Love Boat

People I Would Like To Tag
1. Everyone who comments on my blog
2. Everyone who lurks in my blog (yes, that means YOU)
3. Pewter

Monday, January 29, 2007

Those who live on vanity must, not unreasonably, expect to die of mortification. -Alice Thomas Ellis

So, considering I’ll be at the beach in less than three weeks and recently being subjected to my disturbingly huge white-assness under department store florescent lighting (=evil) and corresponding fun house mirrors (=more evil) designed to wreak havoc on one’s self-esteem, I reasoned I’d get myself a tan. The "healthy" way. Especially since the only way I’m going to lose those 20 pounds I’ve been bitching about is for someone to cut off my arm...or maybe my head and an ass cheek...Monty Pyton style. ( "Tis merely a flesh wound..." "What are you going to do...bleed on me?")

Here, spray tanning is called a "Mystic Tan". Will turn you a "nice, bronze-brown color" in two sessions according to the prominently displayed poster. And of course since I have "sucker" written on my forehead in ink only visible in the purple glow coming from under the door of the booth in use next to the counter, Shawn (who seemed a little too excited about tanning in general if you ask me) pitched me the special accellerator lotion. Sure, sign me up.

He walks me back and gives me instructions which include only how to open the door to the tanning coffin, how to stand in the booth (face front with arms out in like a robot stance with elbows bent at shoulder level, hand down and palms back) and to listen to the automated instructions. So I get all lotioned up, put the little hair net thingy over my head and stand like an uncomfortable and self-conscious robot in front of three nozzles at hip level. How is that going to get my whole front? But whatever. I go ahead and start it and am sprayed with some sort of misty, foggy, damp wetness that comes from the three nozzles as they flip up and down, spraying the length of me twice in about 15 seconds. Sort of like what I imagine standing in an automatic car wash would feel like. Except I’m afraid to breathe. And my back is still dry. And there’s only nozzels in the front. So, I’m thinking, "When do I turn around? Now?" And I’m vaguely aware of some mumbly sounds coming from above, which I gather was the voice telling me to turn around. So I quickly do that (and for some idiotic reason, open my eyes....ouch) and get blasted again from the back with no time to spare. Feeling a little ridiculous that I’m so clueless and this has all happened so fast, the door finally opens and I jump out trying to grab some air that doesn’t taste like bug repellant spray. Ok, now what? I’m standing nekkid in a cold room, covered in stinky dew, feeling oddly like I need a hug. (Why? I don’t know. Oh, I’s another huge mirror and bad lighting, only now I’m wearing a hair net. (=evilest!!!) So I dab off, (no rubbing!!! says Shawn), dress my smelly self and wait for the tan.

Cut to 6 hours later.... I’m slightly less orange than an oompa loompa. Gah! Second session probably Thursday...

Sunday, January 28, 2007

And then the sun came out...

Stay tuned for Adventures in Spray Tanning!!!

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

You have to be careful who you let define your good. -Lois McMaster Bujold

I really want to write. I read other people’s writing and it makes me want to write. I spend lifetimes commuting in my van thinking about what I could say. But for the better part of two weeks, I spend all day in front of a computer and.....nothing. There is chaos in my head and busy-ness all around me and the only thing it makes me feel is empty. And so very tired.

There are reasons. It’s January. I’m stubborn and chose to carry a burden squarely on my broad shoulders. My girls are going through something really hard that they might never fully comprehend and my heart hurts for them. It’s tempting to get stuck here and let life get frayed around the sharp edges of what is meaningful and necessary. But I won’t. I can’t.

Today, as I sat reading about someone’s nearly parallel life I was given a gift. A reminder to "Do The Work". A powerful three words if I’ve ever read them. Sometimes life is easy and effortless. But for now, I will put my head down and do the work.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Stress + PMS = decidedly UN-Buddhist-like behavior

Since Tuesday night, I've been debating in my head about whether or not it would have been appropriate to return a 9 year old girl (friend/enemy of Morgan in her brownie troop) to her parents by dragging her up to the door by her hair. I'll spare you the details, for now (but they involve kicking the shit out of my seat while I was driving the van while telling Morgan, who is planning on being the next Hillary Duff, that she can't sing), and although I have a long fuse, this would have been completely justified. At least in my current PMS'd state no court of law would have convicted me of any wrongdoing.

In other news...Kate got the dreaded "red note sent home to be signed by parents for evil misdeeds in kindergarten" yesterday. In very large perfect printing on bright red 8x10 paper it said, "Kate was involved in a water fight in art class." Umm, she's in kindergarten!!! This does not bode well for the future, I realize. There was explaining and scolding and grounding and head hanging. She got the message. Do I think she'll do things differently next time? Probably not. It didn't help that after said topic was discussed, there was laughing. By me. Is that wrong? Maybe cuz I can't do anything right now but think of the "big picture" and that so doesn't matter. I did refrain from asking for a copy of the signed red paper to be returned for her scrapbook. Must retain some form of parenting credibility.

Happy Friday!

Edit: Ok, sorry, I was venting a little there. Maybe I should have gone into detail. Those final two things happened after I'd been left in charge of wrangling this crazy child for the previous 2 hours during which she also performed a cartwheel in a ceramics shop.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Whenever evil befalls us, we ought to ask ourselves, after the first suffering, how we can turn it into good.

Whenever evil befalls us, we ought to ask ourselves, after the first suffering, how we can turn it into good. So shall we take occasion, from one bitter root, to raise perhaps many flowers.
Leigh Hunt

Happy New Year! I hope 2007 brings you closer to your dreams and more happiness than your heart can hold.
I haven’t posted in awhile because it’s an awkward time for me; so foreign in fact, that to indulge my usual banter about parties and training seems flippant and out of context. So instead I’ve been reading other people’s thought-provoking, alternate reality, online diaries and I find myself wondering, “What prompts someone to write down stories of their lives, including some of the most intimate details – fears, anxieties, doubts, blessings, truths and passions? Do they do it for themselves? Indulging the narcissistic tendencies we all have? Or do they do it to share their experiences in the hopes that their words will touch someone, and make someone or themselves less lonely, possibly fostering a connection in a world that finds people increasingly isolated, hidden behind cell phones and computer screens and windshields?”
Made me think about why I have my own public online diary. Why not just find a notebook and scribble furiously as I recall events in my life that affected me on a particular day? First of all, I find it easier to spill my thoughts onto a screen via a keyboard than to take pen to paper. I like the fact that I can compose whole paragraphs without much effort, read them, decide if I conveyed my thoughts correctly and have a nice clean edit option. Second, I think it gives people in my life who have busy, far-away lives of their own, a way to check up on me, without necessarily playing email tag. I’d like to think it allows them to know me better with all my clumsiness and imperfections, celebrating my successes and reminding me that the hard times are temporary. Lastly, and most importantly, I find that the more I talk about how amazing life is, how grateful I am for all of it, because of the good things I see and experience and in spite of the bad, the more amazing and rich and full my life becomes! Which is exactly why I referred to my blog as a gratitude journal. It reminds me that I am accountable for my own happiness and I’ve found that writing allows me to know myself better. It makes me happy to acknowledge my blessings without apologizing for them or comparing them to anyone else. And here’s the secret…consciously appreciating the beauty of life, and how I choose to live it, and my children and my friendships takes ALL the power out of any negativity that threatens to break me. It is not avoiding those challenges; it is carrying on, in spite of negativity, which makes me stronger in the broken places. And there is no amount of therapy that could do that for me.