My youngest son and his girlfriend at my home before the Senior Prom 

The Runaway Bride

We've all heard the story of the runaway bride. Today I read they have fined her 13K that she has to pay to the city. I know she caused a lot of problems to a lot of people, but I don't think that was her intention. I think she just wanted to run away from home. Who hasn't wanted to do that?
When I was about to be married the first time, a good friend of mine and I decided to have a "slumber party" in the apartment my husband and I had rented. That night, in the middle of the night, I sat up and stared at her and said, "I can't do this."
Being the friend she was, she didn't argue with me. She simply said, "If you're having cold feet, that's one thing. But if you have serious doubts about whether this is right for you, then we'll get in the car and leave town for a week or so until all this blows over."
You have no idea how badly I wanted to do that. I considered it from every possible angle. The one thought that kept me from it was, "What will people think?" Not, "Will I spend the next twenty years of my life wishing I had taken her up on it" which was exactly what happened.
I think the girl got scared, and she ran. And somehow when she found out everyone was searching for her, she made a stupid decision not to call anyone. I think it's because she didn't want to have to pack up and return yet. I really don't know what all she was THINKING, but I can sure empathize with her FEELINGS.
So when they found her, she was embarrassed that she let it go on. And telling one lie led to another one to cover up that one, etc. So she finally fessed up and came home. And she's offered to pay restitution. I don't think she should have to. I mean kids runaway from home. Police go find them. Do there parents have to reimburse the police? Your husband knocks your teeth out, the police risk their lives and come into the lion's pit to drag his ass out, but do they send you or him the bill? Don't we pay tax money?
All I'm saying, is yes, she caused a lot of problems. But she also may have saved a lot of money for her family in payments for a lawyer to handle the divorce later, and a lot of time wasted. I know she says the engagement is still on. I think that's to save him embarrassment and not from any real belief she will ever marry him. I mean, she has to help them both save face, right?After all, what will people think?
P.S. My cat scan came out fine. It was just scar tissue, like we thought.

Hmm....

As a former math teacher, I love things like this.

1. Grab a calculator. (You won't be able to do this in your head.)

2. Key in the first three digits of your phone number (NOT the area
code).

3. Multiply by 80.

4. Add one.

5. Multiply by 250.

6. Add the last four numbers of your phone number.

7. Add the last four numbers of your phone number again.

8. Subtract 250.

9. Divide by two.

Do you recognize the answer?

What should I call you?

When my husband and I married in March 2003, I was 46. I had been married before, four times (two of them were the same guy) and had lived as a single lady for awhile. When my husband and I reached that point in our relationship where we talked about marriage, we had the "conversation" about whether or not I would change my name to his. I had done this before, and changed it back, and had begun to feel that I didn't know who the hell I was, as I'd had so many names! So the last time I had divorced, I took back my maiden name and swore never to change it again.
My husband said it was totally up to me. He said he didn't feel like I had to be his "property" and he agreed there would be an awful lot of things to change names on at my age (drivers license, social security card, medical insurance, car insurance, deed on house, name at doctor's offices, bank accounts, warranties, my college degree, my teacher certification, and the list went on and on.) So it was settled, and I kept my name.
Through the years, it's been a challenge in some ways. My father and step-mother after finding out my name had not changed, gave each other this knowing look and I am sure they don't believe we are married. People we meet never can seem to get it straight, and end up calling us both by his name, or both by MY last name. At the hospital, the doctor looked at my chart and then called my husband my last name the whole time. People find it easier to refer to couples as "the Smiths" than John Smith and Jane Doe. Sometimes we have corrected people. Sometimes we just let them wonder. Sometimes we just let it go.
So what do I think about it? I think it's an issue with a lot of people. I think it makes people uncomfortable to think a woman wouldn't just LOVE to change her name and become Mrs. Whoever. I think people can't fathom why I wouldn't.
I like my name. That's who I am. I would never ask my husband to change his name, and no one would disagree with that. So why should I change mine? It's part of who I am. It's who I was when he met me.
Plus, there is the career thing. People get to know you by one name. You switch it and it's like starting all over. No one recognizes your new name. Now that I'm writing, it's even more important to me to keep some continuity in the name department.
This blog entry was spurred by one that I read regularly, of a young girl who has gone through mixed feelings after taking her hubby's name. I understand her completely.
There have been times when I thought it might be easier to just give in and do it like everyone else wants. But then I wouldn't be true to myself and my feelings.
So I'm just who I am. And I don't intend to change. And neither will my name.

Laptops and Slinky Visitors?

I ordered a new laptop from Dell for my writing. It will have the wireless internet set-up so I can use it from the living room or bedroom or wherever. I made a list of all the story requests that different websites have posted. I have three short stories to write in the next month. I've also decided to write a romance novel set in the time around World War II. I've ordered some books and have been doing some historical research. My husband majored in history in college so is a great resource, too.
Ok, so I've got big ambitions. I decided if I was going to do this, I need to take it seriously. I've got to start spending more time each day in writing. I've got to attend workshops, creative writing groups, and bounce ideas off other writers. I organized my reference books today, so I have them handy.
I'm really feeling excited about this. I know I can sell short stories now, and I want to see how I do at a full-length novel. (My son says "a real book")
Stephen King says he received a drawer full of rejection letters before he was published. I don't handle rejection well. We'll see about that. Maybe I'll just have to learn. I do love to get ideas from others on how my writing can be improved though.
I'm feeling better today after the surgery. I want desperately to wash my hair and had to figure out how to go about it. It's a major process not to get water in my ear. But I'm going to tackle it tonight. I know that will make me feel much better, too. I had a slight dizzy spell this afternoon and had to go lie down. Now I wonder if the surgery worked, although the doctor did say the dizziness might not stop immediately.
My husband asked if I had known this would be this painful, would I have done it? On a good day, probably not. But on a bad day of vertigo and nausea, I'm sure I'd do it again. I just hope it does all I'm hoping it will. I really like the doctor, and I trust him, and also the ENT who referred me to him.
My daughter heard her dogs barking in the backyard today, and her husband found a copperhead snake coiled and ready to strike. He got the dogs in and killed the snake. I guess I won't be walking around in their back yard anytime soon. Their property backs up to a creek, so I guess that explains the slinky visitors.

Had Surgery

My ENT sent me to a specialist about my Meniere's Disease, to Pappas Ear Clinic in Birmingham, AL. Dr Pappas, Sr ran a lot of tests on my hearing and ear pressures, and then sat down to talk to my husband and I. He recommended I stay on the low salt diet but recommended the 2000 to 2200 mg. range instead of the <1000 style="color:#ff0000;">(I WROTE A COMPLETE DETAILED ACCOUNT OF THIS SURGICAL EXPERIENCE BECAUSE OF ALL THE REQUESTS I HAVE HAD FOR MORE INFORMATION. CHECK IT OUT BY CLICKING HERE.)

Growing 'N Goaling

I find myself facing fifty before too long and trying to "find myself" and set goals for myself. I've felt ashamed to be this age and still not know what I want to do with my life. Today, after some journaling, I've decided I've been too hard on myself.
I married the first time very young, and went from Mama's house to a home with a husband. At that time, I didn't have any idea what I wanted to do. Those first few years, all we did was struggle to make ends meet, to buy a home, to get better jobs, etc. Then in our fourth year, the first of our three children was born, the other two following in the next few years. At that point, I had found a purpose for my life. I was a MOM. My kids became my focus. Any time during their growing up years that I tried to have some life apart from them, I ended up placing tremendous guilt on myself for my "selfishness". I love my kids and loved the life I had when they were home.
Then when the baby moved out at 19, my nest became really empty. Suddenly I was suppose to move forward with MY life, and I had no idea what I wanted to do. I don't think most people realize, especially if they don't have children, how you can lose sight of yourself for fifty years, but you don't really mind, because you love what you are doing. I didn't feel I lived through my children, but I did live for them, willingly.
So here I am, just having celebrated my forty-ninth birthday, and now it's my time. I don't know everything I want to do, but I do have some ideas. I have set some goals, maybe small ones but at least they are goals. And I truly do understand why the old saying, "Life begins at fifty" is true.

Beaches, Dumb Doctors, and Real Estate

I went to the doctor last week and he found a "shadow" on my chest exam. After he told me we needed a cat scan to further investigate, his final parting words as he left the examining room were, "Let's just keep our fingers crossed." Not very comforting or reassuring but I forgave him. Then I have my cat scan done today. After arguing with the nurse about giving me the iodine dye after having a severe allergic reaction to it in the past, she finally decided that just giving me a dose of Benedryl before the test might not be a good enough precaution, and due to my insistance, decided to ask the radiologist. He said NO DYE.
So I have it done and I tried to forget about it. Until my mother called and wanted to know how it turned out. I told her I figured they would call me this afternoon, and I'd let her know. Well I waited and waited and finally decided to check in with the doctor's office. I got the answering service and they informed me the office is closed ALL WEEK, the doctor is OUT OF TOWN, and I can check back NEXT WEEK. He failed to impart that information when he told me to keep my fingers crossed. Maybe he didn't mean keep them crossed you don't have cancer, and meant keep them crossed on not dying of anxiety waiting over a week for the results because he'd be out of town. Anyway. Bellyaching won't tell me anything any sooner. So I've decided that 1) chances are in my favor that it is either scar tissue or calcium deposits or something benign and 2) worrying about it won't keep it from being either good or bad news. However, being pissed at the doctor makes me feel a whole hell of a lot better.
We went to Panama City Beach last week and came home yesterday. We ate coconut shrimp, drank pina coladas, sat under the beach umbrella and watched the ocean, played Scrabble (hadn't done that in years) and also celebrated my birthday with chocolate cake and an "over the hill" candle. I didn't have any dizzy spells from the Meniere's while I was there. I felt really good four days out of the five, and the day I felt bad, I laid around and took naps.
It was good to get away.
When my husband and I married, he moved in my townhome, and he just listed his house on the market (lot of memories, he took his time sorting through all his stuff) last week. Today he got a call and had FOUR offers. We took the best one, which means he got his asking price and we close in three weeks. So he's thrilled to be out from under that mortgage. No MORE MORTGAGES No CAR PAYMENTS. We can just save for our retirement. We talked about buying a travel trailer when he retires. My daughter asked an interesting question, "Where would you go in it?" I guess I need a list of possible destinations. Might make hitting the open road easier if we had some clue as to where we were headed. ha.

Biddies on a Bench

Interesting experience at the doctor's office today. I went back to the lab to get my lab work done. They have a bench that can seat about three, and then another one farther on down the hall. I walked back there, and there were two women sitting close together on the first bench, then there was a space, then three guys standing very close to that end talking. I just sort of assumed that the men were there with the women, and I didn't want to walk in between them to sit. My antisocialness had a good excuse and I went farther down the hall and sat on the other bench. I heard the first lady say to the second one, "What's wrong with HER?" The second one replied, "I don't know. I guess she sure didn't want to sit with us." The first one said, "Well I guess she can just be that way" and they both turned and sneered at me. Now I would usually worry about it, what they thought, and decide I had made someone not like me. But today, I just found it amusing. I was tempted to just get up and sit by them and say, "I overheard you. Glad you wanted me to sit here" and then start hacking up a lung just to see the look on their faces. For all they know, I could be at the doctor's for some contagious disease that they were saved from exposure of. Or I could feel I need more "personal space" than some people do. I had a boss who liked to walk up and stand a little too close, and I'd always back away. Then he'd look at me strangely. But he never said anything and I never discussed it with him. It's funny. We make so many assumptions and probably half of them are wrong. Maybe more than half.

Hmmm.....

Went to the doctor today for my yearly physical. He looked at my chest xray and said I have a "shadow" that looks like scar tissue at the bottom of my left lung. He asked if I had been sick, and I I told him other than a bout with asthma a month or two ago, I've been fine. So he wanted to do a cat scan. I told him I'm going to Florida but will do it when I get back. So I have to do that on Monday. I'm not really worried about it. I don't cough, don't smoke, and haven't felt bad at all. I once had a blood clot in my leg that went to my lungs, and I asked if that could have caused it and he said that was several years ago, and my last chest xray last year didn't show this. So hmm...
I got the contract from the editor on my second story. So I guess I've sold TWO for sure now. I submitted a story to two other books on Sunday.
A friend got me a signed copy of Homer Hickam's book. I loved that movie October Sky, based on his book Rocket Boys. I guess a lot of my interest comes from growing up in Huntsville, the Rocket City, home of Space Camp. My dad and stepdad both worked for aviation firms testing rocket engines. I remember my Dad brought home a piece of solid rocket fuel once when I was little. It looked like a large piece of rubber. He put in on a fencepost and lit it and it burned so bright it hurt your eyes to look at it. It burned a LONG time. It was neat to watch.
Oprah had some woman on there who had lost over three hundred pounds. You can imagine how her body sagged. Made me with my almost fifty year old body feel a LOT better. (smile)
My birthday is Saturday. I'm actually happy to be having this one. It's like I've reached a landmark. This is the last year I'll ever be in my forties. Next year, I'll be fifty. My mom said turning thirty didn't bother her, and neither did forty, but the year she turned fifty, that bugged her because it sounded so OLD. Well I'm ok with it, because I like myself much much better now than I did at twenty or thirty or forty. If I could go back to twenty, and have the body I had then but still be an naive as I was, I'd say no I don't want to. I'd much better be who I am now and know what I know than have a better body. Maybe that's the true meaning of maturity. Being happy just being who you are with what you have.
I've not a very materialistic person at this age. I enjoy new technology, like IPods and computers, but as far as accumulating a lot of stuff, I don't really care about that. We have talked about getting a larger home, because we only have 1800 sq ft and 750 of it is upstairs where my son lives. That means hubby and I combined our two households in less than 1100 sq ft. But we've purged a lot of stuff and I would rather be here than in debt on a larger home. I've been lucky to get this one paid off, and I sleep better at night knowing I don't have a mortgage. I think I'd probably love a new house until the first mortgage bill arrived.
I'm looking forward to retirement. I'm looking forward to being able to travel more. We've talked about getting an RV and going cross country. I think I'd love that. I'd like to say I'd visited every state. So far, I've been to Pennsylvania, Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, Kentucky, Tennessee, Florida, Mississippi, Georgia, Maryland, Texas, Arizona, Nevada, and California. And of course I'm from Alabama. So I have only thirty five more to go!

Never Seen You Shine So Bright

I have spent the morning writing. I finished one short story and submitted it to two different publishers, and wrote the first sentences of two others. I think this is a lot of fun, and I don't ever want my writing to be a chore to me. If it gets to be that, I'll stop. The money is not that important. It seems the first thing a lot of people say is, "Well you can earn some fast cash doing this. You should...." and they finish by telling me how to make more money. I don't want it to be about that. I want to write something that touches someone, makes them think, or makes them feel, or makes them walk away after reading with a better outlook. THAT is what is important. I like the fact that they pay me to do what I enjoy, but I can't ever let that be the first priority.
There was an author I really liked, Lyverle Spencer. She had a string of really great books and then announced she was not going to write anymore. She said she had earned enough to be able to retire and enjoy her family. I didn't understand it then. I do now.
The camera I ordered for myself is on backorder until July. I'm not happy about that, but figure everything happens when it should. I don't believe most things happen by coincidence.
I did find a wonderful website with an author/photographer and left a question as to the type of camera he used for those photos. He gave me a very insightful answer, that cameras don't take good pictures, people take good pictures. It's all in how you see. He's right to a point. Inspiration is definitely one of the requirements. But I also believe that if you take good pictures with good equipment, they can be even better. I'd like to take a photography course, but have no idea where to look.
This Wednesday we go to Panama City Beach with my daughter and son-in-law. I'm looking forward to getting away to the beach and relaxing. I'll take my journal in case I get some inspiration I can use in my stories. I'll take a good book I can curl up with. And I'll take comfortable clothes. That's what I call packing light. I love sitting on the beach and watching the waves roll in, or collecting sea shells in the sand by the edge of the ocean. And not to mention seafood. I love seafood. Can't eat a lot of it but I'm going to have some.
The flowers are blooming in our neighborhood flower beds. They are such a rainbow of colors and I wish I knew the name of more of them. It makes spring a lot more enjoyable when there are so many flowers within viewing distance from my windows.
I carved out a niche in the corner of our bedroom, put out all my art supplies, set up my easel. I even managed to start a sketch of a landscape. I had never been able to understand my hesitancy to pursue this, but remembered last night family members making fun of my attempts at painting I did of a flower early in my life. I guess I carried that without realizing it. So now I know, and I will toss that aside and move forward.
My counselor noticed that all of my activities are solitary. I like it that way. I love my husband but I need an extra amount of alone time. I wonder if anyone reads my blog.

Joy Joy Joy Joy Down in My Heart

What good is it to find things in life I feel passionate about, if I don't do anything about them? That is what I asked myself today. I've let fear and apprehension keep me from pursuing things. I've not been fair to myself by doing that. I identified the three areas in my life I really want to take the time to enjoy and explore, as I've said in previous posts.
I am a writer. There! I said it! I'm really a writer now. And writers write. So that is one of my first pursuits, to write and submit more.
I miss the creative side of myself as expressed through art. I went out and bought a large heavy papered pad, and a very basic set of oil pastels from WalMart. It's a start. The next step would be to find a spot in this house to claim as my art space, to be able to set up my easel, and go to it whenever I feel the urge, without having to dig through the closet to find the supplies. I have a wonderful easel my husband gave me a long time ago. I have a few colors of oil paints, and I have some really nice brushes from when I took a Bob Ross class awhile back.
The third thing was my photography. I love taking photos and have taken pictures of everything from cemetary monuments and statues to the nearby Japanese Garden to vacation pictures. I took most of them on a disposable camera. Today I ordered a really good camera with all the accessories. Now that I have invested money into it, that will help me to actually get out there and take pictures!
I also realized today that I feel hopeful about my life, and this is the first time in a long time I've felt that, if I'm totally honest about it. I think back of things I've survived, from bad relationships to my best friend's suicide to being blacklisted by my family. I have grown stronger because of these tragedies. And having these bad times can either cripple me or make me fully appreciate the good times I can have today. I want to only have to ruminate the past in the therapist's office, leave the future for tomorrow and start experiencing each day.

yes yes YES!

Yesterday I decided to confront some of my procrastination about writing. It's funny because I feel like I have a talent for writing, it's something I enjoy doing, and yet when it comes to actually submitting things for publication, I procrastinate. Maybe it's that I fear rejection, or that it's hard for me to allow others to be that into my mind and thoughts. I don't know.
Regardless, I have been working on a Christmas-themed short story for awhile now. It's based on a Christmas my grandmother had during the depression when her children were little. I did a little research, and I've honed it somewhat into what I felt was good, but not as perfect as I felt I could have made it with more time. Anyway, I realized yesterday that the deadline for that particular submission had passed by a few days, and was almost ready to just file it away, when something in me said, "Hey, give it a chance. What can it hurt?" I sent off a letter to the editor of that anthology and asked if it was too late to submit, and she wrote back and said that although the submission deadline had not been extended, if I could get it to her within the next few hours, with a cover letter, she would consider it. I sent it with a very nice cover letter, if I do say so myself, and in thirty minutes I got an e-mail back. She said it exactly "fit the bill" of what she was looking for, that she had actually cried reading it, and that I could expect editing correspondence and a contract within the next two weeks! So now I'm holding my breath until I actually have another contract in my hand.
If you've been reading my blog, you know that this will make two stories I've published in books similar to the "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books. So that makes me feel that maybe the first one wasn't just a fluke, and that I should take this seriously. But it's SCARY! And it's exciting at the same time.
I told my husband last night about the second one. He was very supportive and that surprised me (Why? He's never been NOT supportive of my writing.) but now I'm beginning to think I should clean off the desk, move it by the window, buy some blank CD-R's, set up my reference books, and set aside some time each day to pursue this. I'm so excited!

You Tell 'Em, Sister!

I discovered today that Ms. Magazine is alive and well and still being published. I haven't read an issue since I was a teenager in the 70's. (First published in 1972). Women were just coming into positions of power in the business world then. Women were also expressing freely their sexuality. Until then, sex was suppose to be something only men ever thought about. Women were being urged to come out of the kitchen, burn their bras, and get their "consciousness raised" and "find their own voice". Women were fighting everywhere for the right to birth control information, for legal abortions, for the Equal Rights Amendment, for all kinds of things. Heck, women weren't even given the right to vote until 1920! I found all this fascinating then, and still do, although I was never what you would call a card carrying feminist. Still I taught my daughter totally different about women's rights than my mother taught me. My mom thought a woman didn't need an education, but should find a good husband to provide, and then work if she wanted to as a secretary. (However, she did urge me to learn to drive. She was outraged at the number of women in her family who were house-bound with a car in the driveway because they never learned how.)
I taught my daughter that she could do anything a man could do, except pee standing up, which actually could be managed..... When she was in middle school, I took her to the optometrist to get her eyes checked. He began to ask her about school, and then he said, "Let me offer you some advice. Most girls go after the jocks. Don't do that. You marry the nerd. He'll be the guy who owns the company the jock works for." To which she replied, "Or...I could just own the company myself!" You go girl! I was proud of her and he was left speechless.
There was an ad campaign for Virginia Slims that said, "You've come a long way, Baby!" which advertised cigarettes just for women. Didn't think the female version of cigarettes was such a good idea, but thought the ads were great.
Anyway, I started thinking about how far we've come as women. I think here in America we have taken great strides in taking our power back at women, standing on our own two feet, making our own way. But we still have a long way to go, girls.
So many things that are pure sexism still go by barely noticed to us. For example, the models on The Price is Right. If Hillary Clinton hosted the show, and talked about her "studs" and brought out hunky men half dressed to point at the refrigerators, people would be shocked. Yet Old Bob Barker still gets by with his comments about his "Barker's beauties". We still don't have a woman president. The business world is still male dominated. And spouse/partner abuse is still the leading cause of death for women in America.
But together we'll get there.

Analysis Paralysis?

I had a great session with the therapist today. My husband came along for the first time. She began by discussing different aspects of my personality with him, my need for space, privacy, alone time. He said he just is beginning to realize that I'm not mad at him when I do that. He said in his first marriage, when she "went off by herself" it meant she was mad at him or he was in the doghouse for something. He said that is why he "checked in" with me so often when I went into another room to read or whatever, because he thought I was angry. And all this time I was afraid to explain to him that sometimes I just want to be alone, because I was worried about hurting his feelings. It's silly the things we "assume". Anyway, it cleared things up for both of us. He said he felt he understood me much better from that session. He really is a great guy.

I've been sticking faithfully to the low sodium diet this week, and I'm doing much better with the Meniere's. It's been really enlightening to me to hear from others who have this disease and what their experience has been. Most of the time, hearing how it has affected their lives makes me feel very fortunate that I found a doctor who is willing to give me ongoing meds for the vertigo and to recognize how the low sodium diet helps in most cases. It hasn't been easy to stick to this, but I have finally figured out if I don't, I pay for it the next day with the vertigo coming back. So I just have to accept that this will be a part of my life from now on.

I have felt bad to go into a restaurant and have to order my food prepared differently from other people's, because I felt like I was being too much trouble. Then I realized that it's because I don't want others to consider me a bother, because God forbid! they might not LIKE me. And of course, that has been a driving force for a lot of my fears. So I've decided I have to be an adult about this, ask for what I need, and not worry about what others think.

I've been reading about life transitions. I had to list the ages I was when major changes or endings occurred in my life, and then do that for my parents. I realized that many of my major life transitions occurred in my life and my mother's life at the same ages. Not sure the significance of it, but it was very interesting. The book seems to assert that there is a correlation, just as many people go through a major refocusing period when they reach the age when a parent died, etc. I know my experiences haven't been timed to correspond with my mother's consciously. Anyway, the book is very interesting.

The therapist asked me how often I felt I was being truthful about my feelings with others. I said it totally depends on who it is. With my mother, everything I say is pretty much an act, because I have been conditioned to hide my feelings with her, to not bring up subjects that she doesn't discuss, and to keep things very superficial. She doesn't know when she hurts me, or that I've been angry with her at times. I don't blame her for the things that happened to me growing up. I think she, like all mothers, did the best she could with what she knew. She tells my grandmother never showed much emotion either, hid her feelings well, etc. So she probably grew up with much of the same experiences I had, but not all. I pray I have not taught my children not to feel or express their emotions. When you get disconnected from them, it's very difficult to reconnect.

My son told me that he keeps his room so crowded with things because it makes me uncomfortable to be in a wide open space. I immediately realized that as he was growing up, his dad was so verbally abusive to him, that the only time he felt safe was when he was holed up in his room. I don't think he realizes where the feeling comes from though, or where his anger comes from. I think a lot of his anger I caused, and a lot of it comes from his father. I wish I could have protected him better, left the situation sooner. I can truthfully say though, that I left as soon as I had the strength to do it. But this is just another example of how it is very difficult to know where behaviors came from in our own lives, but much easier to pinpoint in others.

I still don't understand why when I see someone upset, like someone on Starting Over or like when I watched the movie Sybil, I cry. I know it brings up something for me. I just don't know what.

All in all, it's been a very interesting day. I know I tend to over analzye things. I just hope I'm not getting analysis paralysis. Smile.

God's Other Gift to Humanity

I have always believed God gave us a gift we seem to feel so guilty about accepting. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, it's a "nap". I've always been a great believer in naps. If you ask my children about their major complaint from their early childhood, it would have some spin on having to take naps.
I came by this honestly. I remember as a teenager getting so mad at my mom because on Saturday she preferred to clean the house and then take a nap on the couch, instead of doing more important things like taking me to the mall shopping! My grandmother lived with us, and she believed only lazy or sick people ever get back in bed after making it up first thing in the morning. But she would watch her soaps (she called her "stories") and sit in her rocker dozing the whole time. Then later she would wake up and ask what happened, and I'd give her the recap. She'd always say, "I guess I dozed off there for a few minutes" (which was more like an hour).
I'm one of these people who likes to get up early. Then I want to go straight from the bed to the recliner and have my Diet Rite, and not talk to anyone for awhile. Don't even think of asking me about breakfast at that point. The thought of eating when I first wake up makes me want to barf. About an hour later, I'm ready to get up and "get things done." This usually involves showering and dressing, straightening up the house, and running errands. Around eleven, I'm hungry. So it's time to eat. Around one, I'm starting to nod off, and if I get the opportunity, the only place I want to be is back in bed, for an hour, or maybe an hour and a half. I sleep like a mummy during that time. (If someone wakes me, I'm like a zombie for hours.) After that, I'm ready to cook dinner, and then spend the evening watching tv or reading until late.
Of course, when I was working, this schedule was hard. I would compensate by working at adrenaline speed during the morning, then going to lunch and arranging a slower pace for the afternoon. It was very hard to stay awake during that time, much less accomplish anything fast paced.
I read a poll in a woman's magazine where most women said the one thing they wished they had more of in their lives was SLEEP. I agree. My idea of a good vacation is lying around and sleeping whenever I want. Eat, sleep, stare at the view, watch the ocean waves roll in and out, or watch the birds hop around in the forest. I've said before my favorite part of the cruise we took last fall, was the bed. Best bed I've ever slept in.
Naps are the perfect time to get that alone time, to go to bed alone and not have anyone wiggle or hog the covers, to think about anything you like until you go to sleep, to curl up under the covers when the house seems cold, to experience the quietness and stillness. I was given an assignment by a therapist once to cut out pictures of things I liked from magazines. Most of my pictures involved scenic views or comfortable looking beds.
Why do we feel guilty about such a wonderful thing? My sister used to jump up and straighten the bed when she heard her husband come home early, because she would have died if he caught her napping. I did the same thing in my first marriage.
I did the exercise that I mentioned in the last blog entry, (about what is the one thing you wouldn't want to be called, and then embrace that part of yourself), and mine was lazy and stupid. The truth is, I hate for someone to listen to me and then think I don't know what I am talking about. And I don't want to be thought of as lazy, so maybe that's where the shame from napping comes from. However, I've decided to spend the last part of my life saying I love napping, and other people can deal with it!
Here is my favorite quote this week. It's an excerpt from Tom Hodgkinson's How to Be Idle
"I count it as an absolute certainty that in paradise, everyone naps. A nap is a perfect pleasure and it's useful, too. It splits the day into two halves, making each half more manageable and enjoyable. How much easier it is to work in the morning if we know we have a nap to look forward to after lunch; and how much more pleasant the late afternoon and evening become after a little sleep. If you know there is a nap to come later in the day, then you can banish forever that terrible sense of doom one feels at 9 A.M. with eight hours of straight toil ahead. Not only that, but the nap can offer a glimpse into a twilight nether world where gods play and dreams happen."

Stop the World and Let me OFF!

Last couple of days the Meniere's has been rearing it's ugly head. I don't know if it's because I ate out too much last weekend, or if it's just "time" or what. But by Monday afternoon, I felt like I was on a merry-go-round. I had things I had to do around here to keep my sanity, like catch up the laundry and clean the kitchen, but other than that, I didn't do much but lie in the recliner. Today it's better though.
Today is my husband's birthday. I'm making him a devil's food cake I found the recipe for on the low-sodium website. I bought him a couple of shirts, and my son bought him a DVD. I'm making spaghetti, his favorite, for dinner.
My mom called and said there will be a get-togetheron Saturday for one of her aunt's who is celebrating her ninetieth birthday. Wow. I'm planning to go with my mom to it, because I am hoping to see one of my second cousins, who was my partner in crime during my teen years. I haven't seen her in so many years, even though she lives about thirty miles away. We just sort of lost touch. It's easy to lose touch, and much harder to reconnect with people. Maybe it's because of my age (forty-nine in a little over two weeks) or just the fact that I lost one of my cousin's lately, but I seem to want to see those whom I cared about so much in my past.
I haven't finished the books the counselor gave me to read, and I see her again on Friday, but I don't think she expected me to have them read by then. It's just like me, but I realize I am striving to get an A+ from the counselor. Just realizing that makes me laugh and shake my head.
In many ways, this year has been hard so far, but I also realize that it's been a good year on getting to know myself, why I do things, re-establish relationships with old friends, and put some things to rest. So I feel like I've messed up most things for the last forty eight years, and I'm taking a year to reflect and come into the last part of my life with more wisdom.

I read on the internet today an interesting exercise. (I'm always into interesting psychological exercises lately.) It said to imagine that you have been given a job, a very important job. You are admonished to be absolutely objective and do the best possible job you can do. You have been assigned as a life coach for someone. You are too take a look at her life and see where the changes need to be made, what the hard decisions are she needs to make, how things need to be different. You are to advise her on what doors need to be closed, what windows need to be opened to help her realize her true potential. You are to write a detailed summary of what you, as her life coach, think needs to happen for her to be her happy authentic self. Money is no object, how hard these steps will be does not matter. This is someone's life at stake. She needs more.......she needs to stop doing........She needs to allow herself to ........She needs to pursue the dream of ..............etc. etc. And you are the expert assigned to be her last ditch effort to right things. Now...the person you are assigned to help is ________________ (fill in your own name).
I think I'm going to do this one. Because I am the kind of person who always has the answers for everyone else but not myself. By taking a position as an objective observer looking in, instead of out, you gain a new perspective, and by not having the internal aguments and resistance over what you feel needs to be done, you learn to be fearless.
I'll let you know how this ends up. If any of you try it, be sure to let me know what happens for you.

Reunions, Shopping, and Bad Bread

After all the effort I put into deciding whether to go to the family reunion, I decided to go. My daughter and son-in-law came to go with me (and my husband). My husband had never met any of my family. I hadn't seen them in so many years, so it was weird. My sister had gastric bypass and had lost a LOT of weight. She actually talked to me, which surprised me. She also said they wanted to invite us over soon for a cookout. That surprised me even more. But if she invites, we'll go. I was never mad at her. She was the one who got mad at me. For a long time I tried to invite her to lunch, etc, or talk to her on the phone but she wasn't interested. So all these years have passed. She has five grandchildren now. I had only seen one of them. It's sad how families can end up.
My dad talked to me a lot. He seemed glad to see me. At first, I didn't think he knew who I was. I'm still not sure he did.
It was a good day. They had lots of food, but I had to take a plate for myself to eat because of the low salt thing. It ended up not being anything that really was appetizing, especially after seeing the spread that they had. So I felt a little deprived. However, when I think how much better my ear feels since the pressure has lessened, I know I'll stick with the low salt diet.
Today my daughter and I went shopping for some clothes to take on our vacation this month. I bought a couple of outfits and two pairs of sandals. When I got home and tried them on, I decided to take back everything but the sandals. Oh well. I tried.
Tonight I tried to make bread in the bread machine, and it rose beautifully, then fell horribly. I looked on the internet and think maybe I need to cut back on the liquid slightly next time.
I've never had a good loaf come out of this new bread maker, even though I made good ones all the time in my old breadmaker. I'm beginning to think it's the machine and not me. But I'll try again tomorrow to see if I can do it.
Here's your thought for the day: Why do we put our suits in a garment bag, and our garments in a suitcase?