Pet Peeve. Pet Peeve. Pet Peeve.
Ok, now that I have that gush out of my system let's calm down and have a little chat. In the good old days there was a label sewn on the neck or at the waistband of a new garment which listed the size and fabric content on the front and laundry instructions on the back. Simple. Easy.
AND soft.
But now...NOW...these have become offensive, rough and crudely finished instruments of pure torture. These are seemingly hazardous to your health as well as distracting to the point of self-mutilation (trying to reach behind your neck to cut the offender out!!?#*!).
Perhaps this part of some quiet, deep, dark and evil scheme to take over the world.
It's working.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
You Can Only Laugh
We've all been there. You just walked into the restroom after a very important corporate meeting attended by ALL the higher-ups you want/have been trying to impress. You go to the sink and start to wash your hands. You look up into the mirror after applying soap and turning on the water. You check your hair, fac.....NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! =WAIT= Maybe it's the lights. You close your eyes and hang your head trying to wrap your head around the ice cold embarrassment currently rushing through your veins. Bravely you slowly gather your courage and allow your chin to rise, daring you to look again, squinting with dubious hope at your reflection that what you thought you saw really isn't there.
Yep....that confirms it. So much for your upwardly mobile path to success in this company. The piece of spinach from the salad you grabbed before that planning session is still firmly implanted between two teeth in all it's glory. Hard to miss that rich, vibrant green blob which contrasts so beautifully against your brilliant pearly whites. Again, hope springs eternal!! Maybe no one saw it. Really. Just maybe. So you pretend to talk watching your lips mask your teeth at different angles as you recreate the words you spoke at the conference table to confirm your hypothesis. Tilting your head a little this way, a little that. A soft giggle. Sweet smile. Turn your head to the right. To the left.
That totally clarifies any gray area you had. You're toast. No way around it. You are now --this VERY instant -- water cooler fodder. You calmly accept your fate and you begin to plan how to arrange all of your apartment furniture here in this lovely restroom as you plan NEVER to leave these four walls ever ever again.
Realizing you can't realistically spend the next four hours in the Ladies Room without raising some sort of alarm among your co-workers you harden your resolve to leave your sanctuary of safety. Lifting your head, straightening your spine, squaring your shoulders, you turn and re-enter the hall heading toward your cubicle. As you turn the corner you abruptly come face to face with the VP who is not only the key to that aforementioned upward mobility....but he is so darned cute AND single AND the subject of a nighttime dream or two. As he slows his pace to pass you, he slightly lowers his head to quietly whisper, "Don't worry. I'm impressed you eat spinach. And by the way you look very nice in green."
Wow!! Did he just ask me out???!? Obviously not but when life gives you lemons..... or a big unnoticed food spot on your blouse or a wide open zipper in your slacks or that pervervbial piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe..... always remember to make lemonaide!!!!!
Yep....that confirms it. So much for your upwardly mobile path to success in this company. The piece of spinach from the salad you grabbed before that planning session is still firmly implanted between two teeth in all it's glory. Hard to miss that rich, vibrant green blob which contrasts so beautifully against your brilliant pearly whites. Again, hope springs eternal!! Maybe no one saw it. Really. Just maybe. So you pretend to talk watching your lips mask your teeth at different angles as you recreate the words you spoke at the conference table to confirm your hypothesis. Tilting your head a little this way, a little that. A soft giggle. Sweet smile. Turn your head to the right. To the left.
That totally clarifies any gray area you had. You're toast. No way around it. You are now --this VERY instant -- water cooler fodder. You calmly accept your fate and you begin to plan how to arrange all of your apartment furniture here in this lovely restroom as you plan NEVER to leave these four walls ever ever again.
Realizing you can't realistically spend the next four hours in the Ladies Room without raising some sort of alarm among your co-workers you harden your resolve to leave your sanctuary of safety. Lifting your head, straightening your spine, squaring your shoulders, you turn and re-enter the hall heading toward your cubicle. As you turn the corner you abruptly come face to face with the VP who is not only the key to that aforementioned upward mobility....but he is so darned cute AND single AND the subject of a nighttime dream or two. As he slows his pace to pass you, he slightly lowers his head to quietly whisper, "Don't worry. I'm impressed you eat spinach. And by the way you look very nice in green."
Wow!! Did he just ask me out???!? Obviously not but when life gives you lemons..... or a big unnoticed food spot on your blouse or a wide open zipper in your slacks or that pervervbial piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe..... always remember to make lemonaide!!!!!
Friday, January 30, 2009
Patience -- The Most Important and Humbling of Lessons
Sit down in front of a PC and ~CLICK~ you have just order a new outfit, vacation or a car even. Super simple, don't even have to get dressed, no cash needed, no human contact necessary.
Then enter your child home from college on break. The bathroom that the two of you share becomes an instant war zone. There are toothpaste globs hardening beside fallen out hair in the sink. The counter has a few cut-off nails sprinkled on top where the clippers still reside spread open wide and the remnants of shaving cream foam streak across the Formica. The door to the medicine cabinent is standing half-way open. You peek inside. The Q-Tips now tumble haphazardly out of the box....and the additional toothbrush stands askew against the back wall having been tossed inside.
Patience. Patience. Patience. You silently chant this one word over and over and over as you claim this mantra to keep your sanity intact.
Now consider the new cashier at your favorite grocery store. Nervous to start with. Beginning on a Saturday morning. Imagine all the faces staring at this person. And one of them is yours.
Add to this equation the woman with 42 coupons. The man who had a HUGE load in his cart who left his wallet at home which he discovers after emptying all of the contents onto the checkout belt. The screaming two-year old sitting in the cart's seat directly in front of you who happens to be the young mother's first child. Of course she is embarrassed and frustrated, trying to empty her purchases onto the belt while coping with this child all at once. Oh! And let's just add that the child starts to take off her coat and shoes and socks and throw them off....
Patience. Patience. Patience. We all need it. We all deserve it. We need to teach it. We need to appreciate it. An invisible gift. Pass it on...........
Then enter your child home from college on break. The bathroom that the two of you share becomes an instant war zone. There are toothpaste globs hardening beside fallen out hair in the sink. The counter has a few cut-off nails sprinkled on top where the clippers still reside spread open wide and the remnants of shaving cream foam streak across the Formica. The door to the medicine cabinent is standing half-way open. You peek inside. The Q-Tips now tumble haphazardly out of the box....and the additional toothbrush stands askew against the back wall having been tossed inside.
Patience. Patience. Patience. You silently chant this one word over and over and over as you claim this mantra to keep your sanity intact.
Now consider the new cashier at your favorite grocery store. Nervous to start with. Beginning on a Saturday morning. Imagine all the faces staring at this person. And one of them is yours.
Add to this equation the woman with 42 coupons. The man who had a HUGE load in his cart who left his wallet at home which he discovers after emptying all of the contents onto the checkout belt. The screaming two-year old sitting in the cart's seat directly in front of you who happens to be the young mother's first child. Of course she is embarrassed and frustrated, trying to empty her purchases onto the belt while coping with this child all at once. Oh! And let's just add that the child starts to take off her coat and shoes and socks and throw them off....
Patience. Patience. Patience. We all need it. We all deserve it. We need to teach it. We need to appreciate it. An invisible gift. Pass it on...........
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Puppy Paws
I am intrigued by the bottom of puppy feet.
The little tufts of soft fur that surround the pads.
The life print that is left in soft dirt as they scamper to chase those darn robins off their grassy domain.
The way they st-ret-ch their toes apart when you gently massage their little feet.
The unwavering trust spoken through their big brown eyes when they let you trim their nails....then fall asleep in your arms after that exhausting chore.
How they are born with proportionately big feet that they eventually grow into after you have giggled at their struggles for balance and grace.
The way they stretch their front paws out while tucking the rear legs in when settling down onto the soft carpet.
Treasured memories of precious moments.
The little tufts of soft fur that surround the pads.
The life print that is left in soft dirt as they scamper to chase those darn robins off their grassy domain.
The way they st-ret-ch their toes apart when you gently massage their little feet.
The unwavering trust spoken through their big brown eyes when they let you trim their nails....then fall asleep in your arms after that exhausting chore.
How they are born with proportionately big feet that they eventually grow into after you have giggled at their struggles for balance and grace.
The way they stretch their front paws out while tucking the rear legs in when settling down onto the soft carpet.
Treasured memories of precious moments.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Deja Vu...or Reincarnation...or What?
I do not believe in reincarnation. I am one of these people who rolls their eyes when Shirley McLain espouses her, let's just say, "cosmic" view of life. I do embrace the belief we all get one shot at this chance on the planet to fulfull the tasks and purpose given us.
So what do you call the feeling when you walk into a restored historic house and feel completely at home? Or walk along a street in a town you have never been to before and expect to see someone you've known? Or read a biography and clearly see in your mind the events being described as if you were there? The result of painstaking restoration or brilliant wordsmithing by an author?
My personal experiences, whether by actual presence or absorbed through reading, seem to be connected to three historical periods: Ancient Eygpt, England/Scotland between 1100-1600, and our Civil War era. It astonishes me how my focus sharpens and my emphathy heightens when I am exposed to the situations, archeology and lives vitally captured therein. I can't explain it logically. And it's not scary at all. More like, "Oh...I fit in here!" It is as if I have slipped through an invisible veil and I am instantly connected to a shared intellect that plugs me into a "place" where I can feel as if I belong or at least I can understand the involved lives and circumstances more deeply.
This may seem a bit kooky (a "bit"??) to some of you. I'm a very grounded person as you are well aware. All I know is that on more than one occasion I have realized I have been affected on a deeper level than beyond just surface exposure. I feel at home, comfortable, knowledgeable. The latent tensions, rivalries, intrigues, laughter, emotions of the site come to life in my head. Maybe a bit unsettling the first time it happens. Or the second. Like fingers snapping in front of your eyes your attention is jolted and the lightbulb comes on and you become aware of this added dimention. Not a weird sort of cerebral plane. More like icing a cake with extra-thick chocolate frosting. These additions increase the richness of each of our life-experience tapestries.
Think about it. After all of these thousands of years Heaven is an extremely busy place filled with a whole lot of fascinating folks. Perhaps we are given these experiences to facilitate a pressure-cooker effect. By passing down emotions and situations to us we can eleviate some of the incredible lively, bubbly collective history generated by our predecessors. And for those of you who do embrace the reincarnation viewpoint I'd have to admit this is argumentatively another venue for recycling!
So what do you call the feeling when you walk into a restored historic house and feel completely at home? Or walk along a street in a town you have never been to before and expect to see someone you've known? Or read a biography and clearly see in your mind the events being described as if you were there? The result of painstaking restoration or brilliant wordsmithing by an author?
My personal experiences, whether by actual presence or absorbed through reading, seem to be connected to three historical periods: Ancient Eygpt, England/Scotland between 1100-1600, and our Civil War era. It astonishes me how my focus sharpens and my emphathy heightens when I am exposed to the situations, archeology and lives vitally captured therein. I can't explain it logically. And it's not scary at all. More like, "Oh...I fit in here!" It is as if I have slipped through an invisible veil and I am instantly connected to a shared intellect that plugs me into a "place" where I can feel as if I belong or at least I can understand the involved lives and circumstances more deeply.
This may seem a bit kooky (a "bit"??) to some of you. I'm a very grounded person as you are well aware. All I know is that on more than one occasion I have realized I have been affected on a deeper level than beyond just surface exposure. I feel at home, comfortable, knowledgeable. The latent tensions, rivalries, intrigues, laughter, emotions of the site come to life in my head. Maybe a bit unsettling the first time it happens. Or the second. Like fingers snapping in front of your eyes your attention is jolted and the lightbulb comes on and you become aware of this added dimention. Not a weird sort of cerebral plane. More like icing a cake with extra-thick chocolate frosting. These additions increase the richness of each of our life-experience tapestries.
Think about it. After all of these thousands of years Heaven is an extremely busy place filled with a whole lot of fascinating folks. Perhaps we are given these experiences to facilitate a pressure-cooker effect. By passing down emotions and situations to us we can eleviate some of the incredible lively, bubbly collective history generated by our predecessors. And for those of you who do embrace the reincarnation viewpoint I'd have to admit this is argumentatively another venue for recycling!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Child of the Depression Once Removed
My father is the perfect example of a Depression era survivor. He has kept everything over the years just in case he might need to use it on some day in his life again. The obvious implication being that if he had it in his possession he wouldn't have to spend any money to acquire what he once owned. That would be a waste of money. I grew up with a basement full of "stuff", a pile here...a pile there.... Sympathetically I understood how those extremely rough months impacted his life. Empathetically I couldn't because I never lived through the daily scraping for survival and constant sense of impending disaster that our nation experienced.
What did impact my psyche was the conscious choice that I faced when choosing how I was going to set up my way of life, the mind set for the days of my future. And I have to admit I, too, was impressed with a watered-down version of that same angst. I don't like to throw away items in my trash. Why? Because all of our refuse ends up in a landfill that contaminates the earth. Plain and simple. I believe that is irresponsible. That explains why I am adamant in our household about taking advantange of the recycling system our community offers. I take re-useables to Goodwill or Salvation Army dropoffs. We support a wonderful church in the inner city which has a fabulous outreach for over twenty years to the homeless and less fortunate.
Many (let me emphasis that again...MANY) years ago the autobiography of Mary Kay Ash, founder of Mary Kay Cosmetics, came into our house. I never paid attention to it...except for the attention-grabbing very feminine pink book cover which I thought was so cool. Probably twenty years ago I asked my parents if I could borrow and give it a read. I learned three invaluable lessons from this single, highly motivated mother that resurfaced when I was contemplating my resolutions for this new year. Number one: take no more that three minutes to iron a shirt. Number two: Get up an hour earlier every day to create seven more hours in your week. Number three: clean out one drawer a day.
So faithfully I am cleaning out a drawer a day. Daunting? Not really. Refreshing? Absolutely. Satisfying? Yes!! I have found things I couldn't find (you know how that works --"I'll put it right here in this safe place and I'll be sure to remember this because it makes so much sense.....). I have discovered some kitchen gadgets I had forgotten I even owned that will be exciting to start using. I have been able to cluster like-items together where I put some here and some over there. I am sharing inherited pieces with family members and reuseables to organizations who can use them. All recyclable plastic and paper have been tossed in their respective bins. And, I will admit, I have kept just a very few, small sentimental things that I can't quite give up. Oh! I now have a small number of extremely selected goodies (that I was given Lord know why) will be gifted to the person who should have been the recipient in the first place over the next year.
Additionally, my clock is set for 6 o'clock on weekday to get that extra hour in and I am picking up the pace on the ironing chore which is NOT my favorite activity. (HINT: Put on some of your favorite music --preferably with a good, peppy beat. That iron will move a little faster as your attitude improves!)
Try this no-charge therepy. Purely cathartic. Be open to the freedom it affords. I actually look forward to this task of rediscovery. Take on this simple challenge to cleanse your nest. And your life.
What did impact my psyche was the conscious choice that I faced when choosing how I was going to set up my way of life, the mind set for the days of my future. And I have to admit I, too, was impressed with a watered-down version of that same angst. I don't like to throw away items in my trash. Why? Because all of our refuse ends up in a landfill that contaminates the earth. Plain and simple. I believe that is irresponsible. That explains why I am adamant in our household about taking advantange of the recycling system our community offers. I take re-useables to Goodwill or Salvation Army dropoffs. We support a wonderful church in the inner city which has a fabulous outreach for over twenty years to the homeless and less fortunate.
Many (let me emphasis that again...MANY) years ago the autobiography of Mary Kay Ash, founder of Mary Kay Cosmetics, came into our house. I never paid attention to it...except for the attention-grabbing very feminine pink book cover which I thought was so cool. Probably twenty years ago I asked my parents if I could borrow and give it a read. I learned three invaluable lessons from this single, highly motivated mother that resurfaced when I was contemplating my resolutions for this new year. Number one: take no more that three minutes to iron a shirt. Number two: Get up an hour earlier every day to create seven more hours in your week. Number three: clean out one drawer a day.
So faithfully I am cleaning out a drawer a day. Daunting? Not really. Refreshing? Absolutely. Satisfying? Yes!! I have found things I couldn't find (you know how that works --"I'll put it right here in this safe place and I'll be sure to remember this because it makes so much sense.....). I have discovered some kitchen gadgets I had forgotten I even owned that will be exciting to start using. I have been able to cluster like-items together where I put some here and some over there. I am sharing inherited pieces with family members and reuseables to organizations who can use them. All recyclable plastic and paper have been tossed in their respective bins. And, I will admit, I have kept just a very few, small sentimental things that I can't quite give up. Oh! I now have a small number of extremely selected goodies (that I was given Lord know why) will be gifted to the person who should have been the recipient in the first place over the next year.
Additionally, my clock is set for 6 o'clock on weekday to get that extra hour in and I am picking up the pace on the ironing chore which is NOT my favorite activity. (HINT: Put on some of your favorite music --preferably with a good, peppy beat. That iron will move a little faster as your attitude improves!)
Try this no-charge therepy. Purely cathartic. Be open to the freedom it affords. I actually look forward to this task of rediscovery. Take on this simple challenge to cleanse your nest. And your life.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Unexpected
I was on the city's busy inner freeway system (as opposed to it's outerbelt) this afternoon en route to the house. As I was taking the curve of the on-ramp I noticed this flock of Canadian geese heading south (smart birds to be heading that direction....a couple months too late perhaps as we currently are experiencing 9 degree days and 6" of snow) flying over the car. Now we have lots of that feathered species here in the city. That wasn't what drew my eye. What captured my attention was the extremely large number of them traveling together.
Please know that I understand I should have been paying attention entirely to the road and the surrounding vehicles as I was the "merging traffic" but, my heavens, there had to have been 60 plus in this group. And what was wonderouly advantageous was that I had to take the southern leg of the system to reach my destination. I realised that I had just been given this incredible gift. Watching this enormous number of participants in the fabulous, fluid aerial ballet made me speechless. To observe the individuals maneuver their bodies into ever changing positions in this sort-of-rounded, wavy, assymmetrical movement was simply, beautiful. It reminded me of flowing seaweed in an ocean's currents. You know what that looks like. You can close your eyes and see a colorful picture of that scene in your head. Weaving this way and that way in an ever-moving slow motion display of un-earthbound grace.
With one eye (just kidding) on the road and one eye anxious to keep tabs on the progress of the birds I was rewarded when one brave soul burst forth and took the lead. How couragious is that - with the frigid temperature and the full force of the wind at their altitude. The others then started to fall into their instantly recognizable and distinctive V formation. By that time I had travelled ahead of their position and lost sight of their progress. What a glorious last memory.
I was going to write about something totally different today but the sight of nature's artwork in the sky erased all other thoughts. Wow. And that "wow" is said very quietly from my heart. I have no idea if any other person who was in the vacinity even took note of that beauty. Perhaps not. Perhaps I was the only lucky recipient of that dance. Wow.
Please know that I understand I should have been paying attention entirely to the road and the surrounding vehicles as I was the "merging traffic" but, my heavens, there had to have been 60 plus in this group. And what was wonderouly advantageous was that I had to take the southern leg of the system to reach my destination. I realised that I had just been given this incredible gift. Watching this enormous number of participants in the fabulous, fluid aerial ballet made me speechless. To observe the individuals maneuver their bodies into ever changing positions in this sort-of-rounded, wavy, assymmetrical movement was simply, beautiful. It reminded me of flowing seaweed in an ocean's currents. You know what that looks like. You can close your eyes and see a colorful picture of that scene in your head. Weaving this way and that way in an ever-moving slow motion display of un-earthbound grace.
With one eye (just kidding) on the road and one eye anxious to keep tabs on the progress of the birds I was rewarded when one brave soul burst forth and took the lead. How couragious is that - with the frigid temperature and the full force of the wind at their altitude. The others then started to fall into their instantly recognizable and distinctive V formation. By that time I had travelled ahead of their position and lost sight of their progress. What a glorious last memory.
I was going to write about something totally different today but the sight of nature's artwork in the sky erased all other thoughts. Wow. And that "wow" is said very quietly from my heart. I have no idea if any other person who was in the vacinity even took note of that beauty. Perhaps not. Perhaps I was the only lucky recipient of that dance. Wow.
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