Today has been a fairly odd day. It started with watching a man walk down the canal, muttering to himself, only to find him walk back up the canal carrying a freestanding basketball hoop. The people on the canal can see into our yard over certain parts of the block wall and we can see them. I kind of watched him go by the first time, hoping that Buddy wouldn't bark at him while similtaneously hoping that Buddy would go potty. No potty, but the same man walking by with this full sized basketball hoop and stand on his shoulder, muttering and heading back from whence he came.
Buddy's been sick for the past couple of weeks. He's been throwing up at random times (hating that word these days--so over-used and misused, but it's the most descriptive right now), but has been otherwise fine. Last Friday he started to look a little unwell so we took him to the vet. He also hadn't any of his kibble for 24 hours, which never happens. He was prescribed some canned food, some expensive tests and we were to watch him. As he gobbled wet food down I realized he may never go back to dry, until Monday night when he refused to eat the wet food. He's been eating plain white rice, which he always does when my mom visits, but that's it now. No dog food at all for nearly 3 days, leave a message at the vet. I explain all of this to the receptionist who clearly isn't hearing me well.
First, she's indignant that I've named my dog "Betty," which I haven't. This receptionist does it every time (the dog is 12 and she's been there for at least 3 years). What's your dog's name? Me, "Buddy." Receptionist, "Betty?!!!" (alarm and with raise in pitch at the end of bettEEE?) No, "Bud-dy." I tell the story. "What he been eating, then?!" Me, "Plain, white rice." (just like I relayed in the story) I feel as if I haven't gotten nowhere with her. That was early this morning and it's now 6.00 pm and I'm still waiting to hear back, "Because the vet will be concerned if he's [Betty/Buddy] losing weight." As if I'm unconcerned. Just thought I'd call and chat with someone with hearing/attention issues, just for fun.
Max has been complaining that his ear hurts. So, next on the docket, a trip to the pediatrician. While we waited to be called, I watched as two nearly identically-clad blondes chat it up in the lobby while their older toddlers terrorized brand new parents trying to check in and running in the way of some families trying to leave. These women were oblivious to the running and the screaming; they continued to cheerfully chat. You know how awkward new parents can be with these heavy baby carriers--I felt bad for them. On top of that they are trying to dodge these little guys who were running all over the place. In case you're wondering, these women were wearing the new uniform of well-to-do moms, the black yoga pant and Uggs. I don't think either of them were heading off to yoga or had been to yoga this morning. I could be wrong. But, don't get me wrong--I have both of those items in my closet, which are strictly for yoga. Kelly loves the "yoga pants" at her kids' school, which cracks me up. I had to tell her that I was kind of a "yoga pant" who dropped off on my way to yoga, so it sounds hypocritical to complain about this alleged "uniform." With that said, I save the workout wear for working out. Just saying. Which, since I'm complaining, I have to add that I couldn't believe all the reviews (which I happened to be reading last night, of all things) of women saying how much they loved a certain kind of yoga pant for "running around," "travel" and some other non-working out activity. I felt bad for judging, but I kind of wanted to write, "When did yoga pants become an actual piece of clothing versus gear for working out?" Enough of that. I apologize.
So, when Max was little he used to get sent home from daycare with "possible pink-eye" which always turned out to be an ear infection. He had a lot of ear infections that didn't present as ear infections--raging ones that made me feel so bad that I didn't catch it. Today, he complained of his ear hurting when he actually has a sinus infection. The doctor said that with littler kids the sinuses can tug on the ear canal causing pain or irritation. This doesn't happend with adults. So on that note, I still wait for the vet to call, hoping that Buddy/Betty will get better and that I never decide that wearing yoga pants as an article of day clothing is a good idea. I do know that I will continue to see bizarre behaviour on the canal. That's one of the few givens.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Winter Solstace
via google images
"Father Winter Solstice"
I think it's interesting that I'd have this experience on the winter solstace (Dec. 21), but here it is: darkness and light.
They say that the winter solstace is the longest night of the year and the shortest day, but it only lasts a moment in time. It's difficult to imagine on a bright and sunny Arizona day there'd be much "darkness." However, darkness is everywhere--even in broad daylight.
I was out with Buddy having a very nice walk on the canal, when I heard shrill and distressed barking. I saw a larger Chihuahua standing on a dirt mound across the canal from me, barking at a man walking past him. I kept my eye on the dog and decided he was definitely lost and without person, so I took Buddy home and got a different lead and some treats and went back to the where the dog was. He was now barking at something I couldn't immediately see.
The dog was backing away from seemingly nothing, continuing to bark, until he realized that I was behind him. As he was noticing me, this figure stepped out of the bushes, standing very still. I'm not sure if it was a man or woman and he didn't step out as much as appear. I've never been one to be afraid of homeless people and even some crazy people--I try to treat them with humanity and not treat them as if they are nonexistent; although, I've been around some who were volatile and made me nervous. For some reason this situation was different--there was a very weird energy. This person was a long ways away from me, but I felt something ominous coming from him. I tried to ignore it as I whistled to the dog and tried to call him to me, but I felt surrounded by this bad energy--it's almost as if we were in an enclosed space and I was being swallowed up by some force. We were in a wide-open space--a kind of park-like area of the canal. I've never felt this way before. What's worse, is that on this very bright winter's day I couldn't see this person's face. His face was a shadow in the brightness and his movements were very slow and deliberate. Almost as if he was trying to "catch" me, like I was trying to catch this lost dog. He started to creep slowly towards me and the dog took off down the canal, looking back only to bark. I asked him if the dog was his, feeling that it wasn't because the dog's tail was tucked so far between his legs and wanted nothing to do with him. He nodded "yes," so slowly and silently that I decided that I was done with being a pet detective and was leaving myself. I took one last look after the dog, feeling that I would be trapped if I went down the canal after the dog because we were at one end (with the street to escape to) and the other end was a long ways away. It was so strange to feel frightened like that.
I left feeling heebed out and wondering what he wanted with that poor little dog. For split second I had the terrible and irrational thought as I hurried away, "I hope he doesn't eat it!" Bottom line: I hope the little dog is safe and has found his way.
It was a very strange encounter of dark and bright in the middle of the day, on the winter solstace.
Ticker Tape Parade
via google images
We have a family member, who shall remain nameless, who seems to need a ticker tape parade every time she does something. Every story she tells is one of daring and heroism and much like the dingy character of London on the silly tween show, "Suite Life on Deck," she practically claps her hands and shrieks, "Yeah, me!" As annoying as this is, what if we thought of it from a different perspective? She really wants and needs affirmation, but to a certain extent, don't we all? I suppose sometimes we could use some extra kudos thrown our way. It's Christmas, so throw them a bone. But, if this shift in perspective is too much for you or you find that you must do it way too often for your liking, you could always imagine the annoying person being bathed in the soft shimmer of a ticker tape parade while said person applaudes him/herself. So, while these people are clapping and saying "yeah, me!" or are the star, yet again, of their own story and yours you are giving them the attention they desire and are peacefully watching them showered in bits of paper.
Better, yet, give yourself a mental ticker tape parade and go to your happy place!
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
My Dad's Best Intentions
My dad loved Charlie Brown and Snoopy. Sometimes, despite his best intentions and planning, something would go awry--just like Charlie Brown. He wouldn't always take it that well, but eventually what ever snafu he was a part of became the family joke, eventually becoming o.k. In actuality, everything happens for reason you just have to find the reason or learn the lesson. At any rate, here's a Christmas gift memory that came to me the other day, while watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas" with the boys.
Do you remember cameras that had flash bulbs that needed to be replaced after each use? My brother and I got cameras for Christmas one year that Dad had dutifully wrapped up and put under the tree. Where do you think he put the packages of flash bulbs (which were the square ones which rotated after the photo was taken so you could take 4 photos in a row without changing the flash, so high tech!)? He put them in the Christmas stockings. That wouldn't have been such a bad idea, but for a few years the stockings seemed to be a point of contention between my paternal grandmother and my dad. It's actually a little blurry in my mind, but somehow she insisted we open them first and what pops out? Flash bulbs for cameras we didn't have, yet...Yeah! We got cameras for Christmas!!! Which packages do you think they are in? My poor Dad--he looked a little crestfallen, at first, but we had an instantaneous good laugh about it and moved on. He always tried so hard, even though he pretended to be such a grinch about Christmas!
Friday, December 16, 2011
A Christmas Tale
When Little Man was four years old he got into a lot of pre-Christmas trouble. It was a rough Christmas break for me. One day really stands out--the day he "ruined" Christmas. It was the penultimate of naughtiness after days of wild and crazy holiday excitement, on the part of the boys (certainly not me). He got into everything. It started with my locked closet that had the Christmas presents in it and ended with house paint...
We have a full key rack with key-laden rings. Little Man got hold of them all (he used a step stool) and systematically tried every key in the locked closet door and managed to open it. You may ask where I was when all this was happening. I was working in my office and I (mistakenly) thought both of the boys were playing or cooking with my mom, who visits every year over Christmas. You know that sense you get that someone's watching you or something is not quite right? I got that and went to investigate. My mom was in the kitchen by herself and Big Monkey was in the playroom, by himself. When I went in there he was building Legos and the closet door was wide open, with opened stuff spilling out of it. I asked him what was going on and he said, "Stuart did it! I told him not to but he did anyway!" I believed him, because (at the time) he was safety boy and didn't want to break any rules. I'm running around the house hollering for Little Man (which, by the way, reminds me of what I think is the African proverb, "If you want a dog to come to you don't yell.") and I can't find him anywhere. I go outside and I notice the gate to the shed is wide open, the door to the shed is wide open as well and Little Man is nowhere to be found. I walk around the house and I find him with a kitchen can opener and 2 gallons of house paint on the front porch. He's trying to open them. I thought I was going to lose my mind! I started to shout, "What are you doing?!!!" to which he responds, "I wanted to paint you something." You have to admit, that is very sweet. However, I was like a pressure cooker with all the wild boy craziness building up in me and was so upset about the opened gifts in the closet that I climbed up on my soapbox and lectured, as I drug him back to "show" him "how he ruined Christmas." Yes, I used those very words because I was so upset at the lack of boundaries that child sometimes has in our house. I'm not proud of it--it was a very low parenting moment. He knows he doesn't belong in there and he pretty much knows no one goes in there without asking--not even Daddy. He had keys everywhere. Gifts were opened and played with. Housepaint out mingling with kitchen tools. How he even managed to unlock that child safety latch gate is beyond me, because he wasn't nearly tall enough and I couldn't find what he used to stand on so he could reach. It was a long, long, day and an even longer Christmas break that year. Exhausting, because I had to keep an hairy eyeball on that child at all times--even with grandma around.
Later that night, I did apologize. I told him that he didn't ruin Christmas and that I was so upset that I exaggerated. However, I did tell him that he wouldn't be surprised if he kept opening things and Santa certainly wouldn't tolerate that kind of behaviour. Yes, I did tell him he was being thoughtful by wanting to paint me something--but I did remind him that we don't use adult things (such as house paint), we use the crayons and markers in the playroom and on paper. Yes, he has drawn on the walls, furniture and the dog, but that's another story. God bless him (and me, for that matter)!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
A Christmas Wish
There a bunch of people I pass regularly during my day and I'm always interested in those I drive past on the Bridle Path. People with their dogs, running, walking, in groups, alone--you name it, it's pretty much the same people during roughly the same times. There's one man in particular that I've been thinking about a lot lately. A couple of years ago I noticed him because he's pretty tall, has a very unusual gait and had long red hair peeking out the back of a skull cap. He swung his body from left to right and his long arms and legs swung wildly along with his body. He kept a very fast pace and would walk in the heat of the day. This man and a very petite, thin, blonde gal who always wears a ball cap and black workout clothes would walk and run (respectively) at the hottest part of the day, even towards summer. They always made being out in the extreme heat look so easy, so I'm always fascinated by both of them.
There was a period of time where I didn't see my wild walker and I wondered where he got off to. When he returned to his routine, he looked a little different. He walked just a little less wildly and seem to be a little slower paced. As time went on, I noticed his red hair no longer peeked out of his skull cap and eventually it seemed he had little to no hair. His face is swollen and he looks as if he has aged. I'm telling myself a story, but he looks like my dad did when he went through chemo. My dad was a tall thin man who had a goodly amount of hair for his age and during chemo he looked like he put on some weight (despite a reduced appetite), his face became puffy, he had less hair and he moved just a little slower (he was always a fast walker). Every day I look for this man and hope that he's walking faster, looking less puffy and has more color in his face. I hope that he's not in pain and that he has hope. I don't even know this man, but it's obvious he is or has been ill. I wonder how many people notice that he is ill and treat him with kindness and respect or if they get irritated that he moves slowly or is in their way. Then, again, I wonder how many people take the time to think about how it is to walk in another's shoes.
My Christmas wish for him and all the others who are ill or just need extra kindness and care is that they receive it and that those who are able to give extra kindness and care do. You might surprise yourself how great it feels to do something nice for a stranger or even someone you know.
There was a period of time where I didn't see my wild walker and I wondered where he got off to. When he returned to his routine, he looked a little different. He walked just a little less wildly and seem to be a little slower paced. As time went on, I noticed his red hair no longer peeked out of his skull cap and eventually it seemed he had little to no hair. His face is swollen and he looks as if he has aged. I'm telling myself a story, but he looks like my dad did when he went through chemo. My dad was a tall thin man who had a goodly amount of hair for his age and during chemo he looked like he put on some weight (despite a reduced appetite), his face became puffy, he had less hair and he moved just a little slower (he was always a fast walker). Every day I look for this man and hope that he's walking faster, looking less puffy and has more color in his face. I hope that he's not in pain and that he has hope. I don't even know this man, but it's obvious he is or has been ill. I wonder how many people notice that he is ill and treat him with kindness and respect or if they get irritated that he moves slowly or is in their way. Then, again, I wonder how many people take the time to think about how it is to walk in another's shoes.
My Christmas wish for him and all the others who are ill or just need extra kindness and care is that they receive it and that those who are able to give extra kindness and care do. You might surprise yourself how great it feels to do something nice for a stranger or even someone you know.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Persistence Pays
All last week, Stuart was very focused on getting me a gift at Frances (http://www.francesvintage.com/). He wouldn't let it go. Despite his annoying persistence, the thought was very sweet and he was so cute! What started off as a request for a simple outing turned into a major meltdown. I had asked Stuart if he wanted to go Frances last Sunday to try to find a gift for one of my girlfriends. He was all over that. Jon and Max were watching football and I had had enough. I wanted to do something else. Somewhere along the line Stuart decided that he--and Daddy--were going to get a Christmas gift for me. Me: "Honey, that's so sweet! But, I'll be there. Don't you want to go with just Daddy and Max?" No, adamant that he wanted to go with me "right now" (last Sunday) and buy me a gift. He had a serious meltdown because Daddy wanted to go another day (1. At least he knows that it's not cool for me to buy my own "gift." 2. It warms my heart that he is so thoughtful and not just for me.). It was a little over an hour before store closing and starting to become a big production, so I told Stuart we'd go together another time. Serious sadness and tears ensued. Once he makes up his mind he is really serious about it. He is also very thoughtful and it hurts him when he can't follow-through the way he'd like.
The moral of the story: persistence pays. This weekend, he convinced his Dad that today was the day they were going to go to Frances to buy me some "jewel-er-ee" (he really strings that word out). That's just what they did. Stuart got his sugar skull coin purse (purchased before Halloween at The Southwest Gardener http://www.southwestgardener.com/), put it in his pocket and was good to go. We don't quite have a good enough grasp on what things cost, yet. He'll get there (his coin purse had $1.76 in it). The three of them even managed to buy a present for one of Jon's partner's. No, Flavia, you are tougher than nails to buy for! You're still on the list, but I won't tell you which one. Just kidding! (I don't have a "naughty" list, but I like to threaten that I do--just don't tell anyone.)
So, if you think that you can't get what you want, just think of Stuart. He had the very best intentions and love in his heart and eventually, he accomplished what he wanted. (He's also a broken record when he's that focused, but that can both help and hinder his cause.)
What would you like to accomplish this week?
The moral of the story: persistence pays. This weekend, he convinced his Dad that today was the day they were going to go to Frances to buy me some "jewel-er-ee" (he really strings that word out). That's just what they did. Stuart got his sugar skull coin purse (purchased before Halloween at The Southwest Gardener http://www.southwestgardener.com/), put it in his pocket and was good to go. We don't quite have a good enough grasp on what things cost, yet. He'll get there (his coin purse had $1.76 in it). The three of them even managed to buy a present for one of Jon's partner's. No, Flavia, you are tougher than nails to buy for! You're still on the list, but I won't tell you which one. Just kidding! (I don't have a "naughty" list, but I like to threaten that I do--just don't tell anyone.)
So, if you think that you can't get what you want, just think of Stuart. He had the very best intentions and love in his heart and eventually, he accomplished what he wanted. (He's also a broken record when he's that focused, but that can both help and hinder his cause.)
What would you like to accomplish this week?
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Chatting with Strangers: The Hog and the Dog
I was meeting a friend at Starbucks the other day and while I was standing in line, in a kind of noncommital fashion, I started a conversation with a complete stranger. Shocking, I know. With all the Christmas displays and whatnot around I was standing a little further behind the woman ahead of me and when I looked up there was a man standing kind of next to me. I looked at him, as if to say "is it you or me?" when he made a gesture that I was next. He said to me, "I'm not in a big hurry." I thought to myself, I suppose that most of the people here are because it's that time of the morning. But, I'm not one of them! Then he proceeds to tell me that standing in line will give him high blood pressure anyway. I told him, "By all means, I'm in no hurry, you go ahead." He returns with, "I don't have anything to do for another half an hour when I call my wife in England." Bingo, change the subject.
I segue with, "What time is it there?" Then, we started to talk about his wife living there because of her elderly mother and he's living here; British airways; the difference between English security and ours; and the best part? The hog and the dog. He said he's living all by himself in a 4 bedroom house with a dog, 2 somethings--I didn't hear what exactly, and Harley with a side car. You can't talk to me about dogs and side cars without getting geeked. He has a Rottweiler who rides in the side car, hello. It gets better, the dog has a scarf and doggles that he wears. I love it! After I really thought about it, I realized this man looked a lot like Santa. He had a full white beard, although he wore his rubber banded at the very bottom. He also had rectangular readers that he wore at the end of his nose. At first I just took him for an aging biker-type but after we'd been talking I realized he was more of the Santa type. He was also very intelligent, funny and interesting. Did I mention he has a dog who rides in a side car? Fantastic! Our conversation made the wait so pleasant. It also reduced the wait time for my friend, who was running late. It was also nice that we turned the conversation around to something that didn't involve kvetching.
Merry Christmas!
I love this one:
google images
Even better yet, a video! I couldn't decide but this one promotes shelter animals--how great is that! Notice how everyone watching loves a dog in a side car, too. I'm not the only one.
This one is very short but cute! You also get a good look at an expressive dog.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
A Message From the Dog
So I come home yesterday to find this at my front door:
That's our bench where backpacks, lunchboxes, leads and things we need to go with us are put. There's a rack underneath where some shoes live--one pair are the dog walking shoes. I never leave shoes lying about, especially by the front door...I think Buddy was giving me a big, fat hint! Who says dogs aren't smart?
That's our bench where backpacks, lunchboxes, leads and things we need to go with us are put. There's a rack underneath where some shoes live--one pair are the dog walking shoes. I never leave shoes lying about, especially by the front door...I think Buddy was giving me a big, fat hint! Who says dogs aren't smart?
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Skanks, Skinks and Skunks
google images
The Reptile Man came to Stuart's class today and brought some of his reptilian friends. Stuart was telling us about the creatures that came and we were asking him questions. After a while, the conversation naturally died down (we were in the car). Out of the blue, Stuart pipes up with "You know that lizard with the blue tongue? What's it called? Have you ever seen one?" I shout out, "Skank," knowing (as soon as it left my lips) that wasn't quite right but it was something close. I haven't used or heard that word in so long that the meaning didn't really register with me. Jon says, "Not Skank..." I reply, "Oh, yeah, Skink." Pregnant pause and then laughter. Luckily, the boys have no idea what that word means. Jon & I bantered back and forth, "Yes, a Skink and maybe a Skunk, but not a Skank."
Cheap and cheerful entertainment.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Another Thanskgiving Post
I have to say that the oddest Thanksgiving we've had was one where Chief's cousin and his girlfriend and a friend of mine came over. Cousin John is a friendly guy who's a good conversationalist, funny and nice. His then-girlfriend was kind of the opposite of him. She was tense, intense and award at small-talk. Renee is super-friendly, talkative and funny. A good-time girl. She is a good friend I met through work. One of the few redeeming qualities of that particular job.
Years ago, John & his girlfriend moved to the valley so the girlfriend could go to graduate school. That didn't last long and it's no surprise for multiple reasons. She chose a graduate program at ASU that she wasn't really interested in, because ASU didn't offer her specific program. It was a related program to what she was really wanted to do. Don't ask me what it was because it was so long ago, so obscure and she has this kind of pecking voice--really emphatic and aggressive when she's explaining something, with an air of arrogance or maybe elitism. I'm not sure. I just got the impression that she thought she was schooling me and that I was the unfortunate sister, if you know what I mean. I was fascinated at her borderline hostility or angst about it all that the actual meaning of the words didn't have much value for me--I was fascinated with the way the words came out of her mouth and she jerked her head around when she spoke. According to her, she decided on ASU because it was easier for John to find a job (admirable) but emphasized it wasn't what she wanted to do (suspect). The program she wanted to go to was so geographically isolated that it would be a long commute to work for John at a job that didn't pay well. This is what we learn right off the bat from her and that was the extent of the in-depth explanation, discussion and Q & A. She climbed off her soapbox and was pretty much done for the evening. I love a little soapbox myself, but this was just odd. She was like a wind-up toy when it loses its momentum---whirrrr---shtunk.
She nervously chain-smoked--which meant she had to go outside frequently and be away from the rest of us. She even got up during the middle of dinner to go smoke. At that point even John was a little uncomfortable with her and he got up to go outside and see what was going on (he isn't a smoker). I say that because out our huge picture window you could see a lot of puff, puff, puff on her part and a kind of bird-like head bobbing, wing flapping and word exchange between the two of them. Thankfully, we couldn't hear. They were out there for a long time, during the middle of dinner. Finally, I say to Chief and Renee, "I wonder what's going on. I don't think she likes us." To which Renee loudly, sincerely and emphatically responds, "Oh, how could she not like us! We are fun." (say it with a Minnesotan accent, because that's where she's originally from) It was one of those "you had to be there" moments, but we laughed non-stop about that. That was nearly 20 years ago and we still quote Renee and get a chuckle about that. The three of us enjoyed the rest of Thanksgiving on our own. I can't rightly say if John enjoyed himself or not. I think he had moments that he enjoyed but his girlfriend really was stressing him. She went from being really stiff and uncomfortable to downing a lot of wine with dinner and nearly an "I love you man" persona. She did not have a good time, although she seemed to manage to relax by the time dinner was over. Not completely, because she was really wound up. However, alcohol did her good. Sadly, John had to drive home.
To complete their story, the girlfriend left Arizona before completing the program. I'm sure the program "displeased" her in every way shape and form. She set herself up for that. I'm not sure that she ever finished or what became of her. They broke up. John stayed in the Valley for a little while longer before returning to Wisconson, where he's originally from. There really wasn't much for him here, which is the irony of the girlfriend's choice of ASU. They both might've been better off at the other prized program, depsite her "sacrifice." Regarding Thanksgiving dinner, John told us not to worry about her behavior because the girlfriend was always uncomfortable around new people. She's especially uncomfortable around other educated people (doctors in particular) and was always uncomfortable around John's immediate family (John's dad is a doctor, too). So, you have to know that that relationship was always marked "doom."
Years ago, John & his girlfriend moved to the valley so the girlfriend could go to graduate school. That didn't last long and it's no surprise for multiple reasons. She chose a graduate program at ASU that she wasn't really interested in, because ASU didn't offer her specific program. It was a related program to what she was really wanted to do. Don't ask me what it was because it was so long ago, so obscure and she has this kind of pecking voice--really emphatic and aggressive when she's explaining something, with an air of arrogance or maybe elitism. I'm not sure. I just got the impression that she thought she was schooling me and that I was the unfortunate sister, if you know what I mean. I was fascinated at her borderline hostility or angst about it all that the actual meaning of the words didn't have much value for me--I was fascinated with the way the words came out of her mouth and she jerked her head around when she spoke. According to her, she decided on ASU because it was easier for John to find a job (admirable) but emphasized it wasn't what she wanted to do (suspect). The program she wanted to go to was so geographically isolated that it would be a long commute to work for John at a job that didn't pay well. This is what we learn right off the bat from her and that was the extent of the in-depth explanation, discussion and Q & A. She climbed off her soapbox and was pretty much done for the evening. I love a little soapbox myself, but this was just odd. She was like a wind-up toy when it loses its momentum---whirrrr---shtunk.
She nervously chain-smoked--which meant she had to go outside frequently and be away from the rest of us. She even got up during the middle of dinner to go smoke. At that point even John was a little uncomfortable with her and he got up to go outside and see what was going on (he isn't a smoker). I say that because out our huge picture window you could see a lot of puff, puff, puff on her part and a kind of bird-like head bobbing, wing flapping and word exchange between the two of them. Thankfully, we couldn't hear. They were out there for a long time, during the middle of dinner. Finally, I say to Chief and Renee, "I wonder what's going on. I don't think she likes us." To which Renee loudly, sincerely and emphatically responds, "Oh, how could she not like us! We are fun." (say it with a Minnesotan accent, because that's where she's originally from) It was one of those "you had to be there" moments, but we laughed non-stop about that. That was nearly 20 years ago and we still quote Renee and get a chuckle about that. The three of us enjoyed the rest of Thanksgiving on our own. I can't rightly say if John enjoyed himself or not. I think he had moments that he enjoyed but his girlfriend really was stressing him. She went from being really stiff and uncomfortable to downing a lot of wine with dinner and nearly an "I love you man" persona. She did not have a good time, although she seemed to manage to relax by the time dinner was over. Not completely, because she was really wound up. However, alcohol did her good. Sadly, John had to drive home.
To complete their story, the girlfriend left Arizona before completing the program. I'm sure the program "displeased" her in every way shape and form. She set herself up for that. I'm not sure that she ever finished or what became of her. They broke up. John stayed in the Valley for a little while longer before returning to Wisconson, where he's originally from. There really wasn't much for him here, which is the irony of the girlfriend's choice of ASU. They both might've been better off at the other prized program, depsite her "sacrifice." Regarding Thanksgiving dinner, John told us not to worry about her behavior because the girlfriend was always uncomfortable around new people. She's especially uncomfortable around other educated people (doctors in particular) and was always uncomfortable around John's immediate family (John's dad is a doctor, too). So, you have to know that that relationship was always marked "doom."
Friday, December 2, 2011
Slow Boat of Happiness
It's not that I'm unhappy, but I'm not feeling a lot of love and joy right now. The back is feeling better, but I'm still not doing yoga or moving 100% and that is a downer. I was talking to a friend a couple of weeks ago and she said something that had me responding, "Well, I'd like a little of that love and joy to come my way." She said, "You have love and joy." I said, "I know, but I'm just not feeling it." I know it's there, but I'm just not finding or realizing what that is. It's like that elusive craving that you know is there and it's very specific, but for the life of you you just aren't placing it.
I jokingly gave her the following analogy: It's like the boat of happiness is a slow moving boat (tugboat slow) and everyone but me is on board. It's pulling its horn with the long, "Maaaaangh, Maaaaaaangh" as I'm on the dock with my Quasimoto back, draggin my one leg behind me, flailing my arms as I move towards the boat, yelling, "Waaait! Waaait!" The boat is moving so slow that--if I were able bodied--I could leap onto the deck, like they do in the movies. I'm not fully functional, so there will be no jumping for me. I said this as a joke, but I know there are times when we all feel as if we just missed something or are watching life go by and it's difficult to piece together the whys and the what fors of it all.
Friends, I wrote this on November 17th--I'm fine. I just thought the analogy was worth sharing. Although there were a few days fairly recently where every story I could of told ended with, "and then I cried," I'm alright. Maybe I'll share that another time (I think those are funny, too)!
Here's hoping that you make the leap onto your boat of happiness and have a wonderful weekend!
P.S., so what if you fall, it'll make a great story afterwards and at least you tried, right?
Friends, I wrote this on November 17th--I'm fine. I just thought the analogy was worth sharing. Although there were a few days fairly recently where every story I could of told ended with, "and then I cried," I'm alright. Maybe I'll share that another time (I think those are funny, too)!
Here's hoping that you make the leap onto your boat of happiness and have a wonderful weekend!
P.S., so what if you fall, it'll make a great story afterwards and at least you tried, right?
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Reverb 2011
Hope Wallace Karney is doing a Reverb of her own this year. She will be providing journal prompts every day the month of December. If you would like to join her or just see what she's up to you can find her at http://www.besottment.com/ or click the reverb button above. She does really cute journals and lettering, so take a peek! Her first prompt is worth a roll around the noggin, even if you don't plan on journaling about it. This year some other people are taking on their own Reverb projects because Gwen Bell, the woman who started Reverb, is not doing it but has provided instructions on how to start your own. This is a great way to get the creative juices flowing or find some inspiration!
Have fun!
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