Breathe in. There you go lungs...have some oxygen. See how easy that was? Breathe out. And now, you get to live another two minutes. All because you respirated, just like you probably do 20,000 times a day without even thinking about it. Unless, of course, you are sick or stressed out; in which case, you spend considerable more time appreciating this simple life function.
Today my mammogram technician was instructing me to breathe in and breathe out. I wasn't necessarily stressed out, but a particular part of my body sure was. I asked her if those instructions were meant to keep me from passing out, and she said that indeed they were. Apparently she had two patients hit the floor this year because they unintentionally held their breathe during their mammogram. Ouch! (That's ouch before you even hit the floor, if you know what I mean, ladies.) Then she asked me how I knew that and I told her that it was because I had passed out at the eye doctor once from unintentionally holding my breathe...before the exam even started.
For the record, it's 4:30 am and I woke up just to think about breathing. True story. Do you think I might be a little stressed out?
But I didn't get out of bed to wallow in my sad, sad predicament. I could do that without leaving bed. I got out of bed to learn from it. What have I learned? Not much, really. Afterall, it's only 4 am. But I did find some really great quotes, so we're going to roll with those:
1. Laugh: "By trying we can easily endure adversity. Another man's, I mean. " Mark Twain
2. Love: "We are all here for a single purpose: to grow in wisdom and to learn to love better. We can do this through losing as well as through winning. All we need to do is show up for the class." Rachel Naomi Remen
3. Pray: "The long, dull, monotonous years of middle-aged prosperity or middle-aged adversity are excellent campaigning weather for the devil." C.S. Lewis
"Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament; Adversity is the blessing of the new."
Francis Bacon
4. Live: " I had thought joy to be rather synonymous with happiness, but it seems now to be far less vulnerable than happiness. Joy seems to be a part of an unconditional wish to live, not holding back because life may not meet our preferences and expectiations. It has a kind of invincibility that attachement to any particular ourtcome would deny us. Joy seems more closely related to aliveness than to happiness." Rachel Naomi Remen
5. Fight: "He who does not tire; tires adversity." Martin F. Tupper
I'm far from feeling like super woman. I don't even feel adequate. But I didn't cheat death just to be defeated by life. In addition to removing carbon dioxide, breathing results in loss of water from the body. Exhaled air has a relative humidity of 100% because of water diffusing across the moist surface of breathing passages. I'm writing this to remind myself that I'm dehydrated, not defeated. The point is: I got out of bed because I was thirsty and I'm thirsty because I'm alive and according to all those smart, eloquant people I just quoted...I'm in good company and I'll be ok.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
A bizarre and unexpected turn of events has rendered my little family out of work. If you work in the video game industry, this is not unusual and we have endured it many times. But like I said, this go 'round involves the bizarre and the unexpected; two elements that we are unaccustomed to and that are becoming rather bothersome. And can I just say that I HATE that we are in good company. A toast to all of our out-of-work acquaintances. May each of us soon find ourselves in someone else's company. (Puns welcome, as any humor at this point most certainly is.)
We tried leaving the video game industry 8 years ago. When I told my aunt that Mark had left the game industry, I either ran my words together or her hearing was failing her, because in a startled tone she replied "WHY WAS HE IN THE GAY MINISTRY?!"
Well, no matter how you slice it; it's still a good question.
After leaving, we were happily self-employed for three years. But then this old fetish that we have for steady, reliable paychecks and health benefits sort of came back and we fell off the wagon. Mark interviewed for a job, almost out of curiousity, and was instantly seduced by the idea of being part of a creative team again and getting paid to work on a Snoopy title. That little beagle is always stealing the show, isn't he? But it sure was nice to be insured when the Red (or pink) Baron came knocking at our door a year later.
Now, from one day to the next, I just hope that we have a door that can be knocked upon.
And... I am tired. And yes, after a year of one shoe dropping after the other....I am also a little scared.
We tried leaving the video game industry 8 years ago. When I told my aunt that Mark had left the game industry, I either ran my words together or her hearing was failing her, because in a startled tone she replied "WHY WAS HE IN THE GAY MINISTRY?!"
Well, no matter how you slice it; it's still a good question.
After leaving, we were happily self-employed for three years. But then this old fetish that we have for steady, reliable paychecks and health benefits sort of came back and we fell off the wagon. Mark interviewed for a job, almost out of curiousity, and was instantly seduced by the idea of being part of a creative team again and getting paid to work on a Snoopy title. That little beagle is always stealing the show, isn't he? But it sure was nice to be insured when the Red (or pink) Baron came knocking at our door a year later.
Now, from one day to the next, I just hope that we have a door that can be knocked upon.
And... I am tired. And yes, after a year of one shoe dropping after the other....I am also a little scared.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Doesn't Hurt to Ask
If I keep all the crumbs out of the butter....will someone please come buy my house? How 'bout if I always put my shopping cart in that corral thingy? No? Ah-kay, I was just checking.
(How about a job. Can I get a job if I do all those things? No? Ah-kay, just checking. I'll just be sitting here then...seeing as I've tried everything else.)
Yep...still here.
(How about a job. Can I get a job if I do all those things? No? Ah-kay, just checking. I'll just be sitting here then...seeing as I've tried everything else.)
Yep...still here.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Family Ties
My day officially begins with the sound of a door slamming. No drama...it just swings on automatic hinges. This signals to me that my two teenagers have once again, made it out the door (on their own) and are on their way, possibly still in their pajamas, to early-morning seminary. In twenty minutes, they will arrive at church and study the New Testament with a dozen or so other LDS teenagers before their school day starts. Any teenager is welcome to come study the scriptures with these kids, it's just that Mormons are probably the only ones crazy enough to do so.
That's how my day begins. I like that. I am so proud of them for not only going, but for doing it all on their own. Even if they discover that the car is out of gas, they still go. They just take my debit card out of my wallet and leave me a note so I don't try to go anywhere without it. Dedicated, thorough and considerate...what great kids!
My day officially ends with a sound too. It is the sound of Johnny Mathis and Deniece Williams singing "Without Us", the official theme song for the 1980's sitcom, Family Ties. Thanks to Netflix, we have all seven seasons at our disposal. From the Keaton kitchen to the Jarman living room; it's our low calorie, alcohol free, nightcap of choice.
Before we started watching it (after we had finished all eleven seasons of M*A*S*H), I told my kids about how my family used to watch Family Ties together every Sunday night, on our tiny little kitchen TV, while we made waffles. Move over Norman Rockwell, right? Sounds downright cozy. The only problem is...that wonderful, very real-to-me memory apparently only exists in my head. All other sources say that Family Ties aired on Thursday nights. What tha??? Hmmm.
All laws of grammar fail me; how can that be?
Nevertheless, the important thing is that it's a happy memory. Accuracy is optional.
That's how my day begins. I like that. I am so proud of them for not only going, but for doing it all on their own. Even if they discover that the car is out of gas, they still go. They just take my debit card out of my wallet and leave me a note so I don't try to go anywhere without it. Dedicated, thorough and considerate...what great kids!
Before we started watching it (after we had finished all eleven seasons of M*A*S*H), I told my kids about how my family used to watch Family Ties together every Sunday night, on our tiny little kitchen TV, while we made waffles. Move over Norman Rockwell, right? Sounds downright cozy. The only problem is...that wonderful, very real-to-me memory apparently only exists in my head. All other sources say that Family Ties aired on Thursday nights. What tha??? Hmmm.
All laws of grammar fail me; how can that be?
Nevertheless, the important thing is that it's a happy memory. Accuracy is optional.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Uugh! Gah! Ewww! No! No! No!
This is the sound of me throwing a temper tantrum. Yes...me... a grown woman, throwing a temper tantrum. Please, allow me to explain:
I haven't had a hair cut since we've been here in Illinois, at least not one that didn't involve me standing in my bathroom with a death grip on the electric clippers, cursing everything known to man, while buzzing off what you maybe, might, conceivable refer to as...my hair, or what's left of it.
(Why, you may be asking, don't I grow it out? Wouldn't long, thin hair be better than short, thin hair? Haven't I ever heard of a comb over, you ask? Well...have you ever seen the Crypt-keeper? There's your answer.)
In Utah, I had a couple of lovely friends who had salons in their homes, who knew me 'before', and where I felt comfortable getting my hair cut. Here I have nothing like that and I have not been able to bring myself to go sit down in a salon full of women with beautiful hair and let total strangers try to act natural and not gawk at my pathetic little scalp. It is humiliating just to think about it.
So when it became apparent that I was long overdue for a real trimming, the best idea I could come up with was a barbershop. Still, plenty of apprehension, but desperation and common sense were coming up on the inside and getting ready to steal the lead. I had no choice but to act like I was with them as they crossed the finish line.
So yesterday, Mark took me to the barbershop. And, it wasn't my favoritest thing in the world. Especially the part where the barber swung my chair around, stopping me only when I was face to face with a guy who was waiting for his turn on the bench adjacent my chair. He was a very talented finger tapper and took a sudden interest in the ceiling. I'm not sure what was up there, but probably not a girl in a barber chair looking all butched up.
Anyway, so...I just closed my eyes and repeated in my head "I'm just getting a hair cut, I'm just getting a hair cut" over and over until the tears that were pushing at the back of my eyes went away.
Snippity, snip, snip, snip...a couple bucks for the tip, and we were on our way.
And that my friends, is what makes me say Uugh! Gah! No, no, please....please, not ever again, no.
This is the sound of me throwing a temper tantrum. Yes...me... a grown woman, throwing a temper tantrum. Please, allow me to explain:
I haven't had a hair cut since we've been here in Illinois, at least not one that didn't involve me standing in my bathroom with a death grip on the electric clippers, cursing everything known to man, while buzzing off what you maybe, might, conceivable refer to as...my hair, or what's left of it.
(Why, you may be asking, don't I grow it out? Wouldn't long, thin hair be better than short, thin hair? Haven't I ever heard of a comb over, you ask? Well...have you ever seen the Crypt-keeper? There's your answer.)
In Utah, I had a couple of lovely friends who had salons in their homes, who knew me 'before', and where I felt comfortable getting my hair cut. Here I have nothing like that and I have not been able to bring myself to go sit down in a salon full of women with beautiful hair and let total strangers try to act natural and not gawk at my pathetic little scalp. It is humiliating just to think about it.
So when it became apparent that I was long overdue for a real trimming, the best idea I could come up with was a barbershop. Still, plenty of apprehension, but desperation and common sense were coming up on the inside and getting ready to steal the lead. I had no choice but to act like I was with them as they crossed the finish line.
So yesterday, Mark took me to the barbershop. And, it wasn't my favoritest thing in the world. Especially the part where the barber swung my chair around, stopping me only when I was face to face with a guy who was waiting for his turn on the bench adjacent my chair. He was a very talented finger tapper and took a sudden interest in the ceiling. I'm not sure what was up there, but probably not a girl in a barber chair looking all butched up.
Anyway, so...I just closed my eyes and repeated in my head "I'm just getting a hair cut, I'm just getting a hair cut" over and over until the tears that were pushing at the back of my eyes went away.
Snippity, snip, snip, snip...a couple bucks for the tip, and we were on our way.
And that my friends, is what makes me say Uugh! Gah! No, no, please....please, not ever again, no.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
The Temp
"No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth." ~Robert Southey
Hello. I am your temporary friend. I will come into your life and mingle and we will share a couple of laughs. I'll stand by your side and we'll work together and perhaps somewhere along the way, I'll even let you know one of my secrets. But it will probably only be part of one of my secrets; because I'd never tell you the whole thing. Afterall, I'm only a temporary friend.
My departure is imminent. Sooner than you expected. Earlier than usual. 'Imminent", "sooner", "earlier" followed by gone and possibly...even forgotten. After I leave, someone else will come water my tree, look out my windows, and soak in my tub. That's what happens when you move and we move A LOT.
I could be described as an actor that shows up for a cameo role on an episode or two; but that analogy doesn't really work. It implies that I have a full-time gig somewhere else and I don't think "empty moving box collector" counts. No...I am more like a character actor; I get around but I really don't belong anywhere.
But ironically, even though my fractured zip code collection is driving me a little crazy, it has also made me a lot of whole. Because of my association with so many different people, I have witnessed first hand how carefully God tutors each one of us - how we need it and when we need it - and although I've only been auditing your classes with the Creator, I've still learned a lot. You seem to be doing really well and I hope to be like you...in some tiny, albeit significant way.
"Do not cry because it's over; smile because it happened." Author Unknown
P.S. What I meant to say, before my inner poet took over, is that we're moving again. After only nine months here, we are moving again. Mark found a job elsewhere that he is really excited about. It's been a great nine months for me...not so much for Mark.
Hello. I am your temporary friend. I will come into your life and mingle and we will share a couple of laughs. I'll stand by your side and we'll work together and perhaps somewhere along the way, I'll even let you know one of my secrets. But it will probably only be part of one of my secrets; because I'd never tell you the whole thing. Afterall, I'm only a temporary friend.
My departure is imminent. Sooner than you expected. Earlier than usual. 'Imminent", "sooner", "earlier" followed by gone and possibly...even forgotten. After I leave, someone else will come water my tree, look out my windows, and soak in my tub. That's what happens when you move and we move A LOT.
I could be described as an actor that shows up for a cameo role on an episode or two; but that analogy doesn't really work. It implies that I have a full-time gig somewhere else and I don't think "empty moving box collector" counts. No...I am more like a character actor; I get around but I really don't belong anywhere.
But ironically, even though my fractured zip code collection is driving me a little crazy, it has also made me a lot of whole. Because of my association with so many different people, I have witnessed first hand how carefully God tutors each one of us - how we need it and when we need it - and although I've only been auditing your classes with the Creator, I've still learned a lot. You seem to be doing really well and I hope to be like you...in some tiny, albeit significant way.
"Do not cry because it's over; smile because it happened." Author Unknown
P.S. What I meant to say, before my inner poet took over, is that we're moving again. After only nine months here, we are moving again. Mark found a job elsewhere that he is really excited about. It's been a great nine months for me...not so much for Mark.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Making My Day
"What is she doing?" my 17 year old asked as she glanced over at our 12 year old working on the computer. "Making my day," was my reply.
Three days ago my 12 year old taught herself how to knit and has been knitting everywhere she goes ever since, so it only makes perfect sense that today she would wake up and decide to find a job too.
Her dad makes a living as an artist, so why can't she? School schmool! Let's go draw some pictures and start raking in the moolah!
So today I've been fielding questions like: Do I have a resume? What is our address? Both questions being clear indicators that this child is definitely ready for the 9 to 5 grind and a five figure salary. As soon as she polishes up her portfolio and attaches it to her blog it's just sit and wait time.
Truly, this has made my day. I hope it makes their day too....meaning the people who will be reviewing her application at High Voltage Software, the company where she applied. I hope they realize what a privilege it is to be a part of her world; her hopes, her dreams and her indominable yet innocent spirit...even if it is only for the two minutes it will take them to read her wonderful little resume.
I hope they realize what I already know...she's over-qualified and way more expensive than they can afford.
Three days ago my 12 year old taught herself how to knit and has been knitting everywhere she goes ever since, so it only makes perfect sense that today she would wake up and decide to find a job too.
Her dad makes a living as an artist, so why can't she? School schmool! Let's go draw some pictures and start raking in the moolah!
So today I've been fielding questions like: Do I have a resume? What is our address? Both questions being clear indicators that this child is definitely ready for the 9 to 5 grind and a five figure salary. As soon as she polishes up her portfolio and attaches it to her blog it's just sit and wait time.
Truly, this has made my day. I hope it makes their day too....meaning the people who will be reviewing her application at High Voltage Software, the company where she applied. I hope they realize what a privilege it is to be a part of her world; her hopes, her dreams and her indominable yet innocent spirit...even if it is only for the two minutes it will take them to read her wonderful little resume.
I hope they realize what I already know...she's over-qualified and way more expensive than they can afford.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Take the Money and Run
Whatever happened to ABC's "Take the Money and Run"? Remember that show? It was a reality based television show that aired in 2011 in which they would give people a briefcase filled with money (like real money... the good stuff...to the tune of $100,000) and let them hide it. If after 24 hours a team of professional interrogators couldn't find the money or get them to spill the beans, then the contestants would get to walk away with the cash.
It was an exciting show, but it didn't last for very many episodes. I think their main problem was letting parents be the contestants. These interrogators didn't stand a chance. Parents are seasoned professionals when it comes to lying. They're the BEST at it. Think about it; Santa, the Easter Bunny, sex....we're talking generations of lies propagated so well that entire industries have survived on their existence.
Sometimes on the show, in order to get someone to crack, the interrogators would use mind games and mental manipulation tactics. The parents would just laugh at these attempts. These are people who have gone up against two year olds and teenagers and have lived to tell! No amount of editing could hide the bewilderment on the faces of the investigators as tactic after tactic failed and the clock eventually ran out. As for the contestants who were not parents? They folded within hours. But not ol' Ma and Pa.
In short, you can starve us, lock us up in solitary confinement, and deprive us of the essentials like sleep, sex and texting...but we are made of steal. We've long since forgotten what it felt like to flinch. Not that we're necessarily super smart or anything...it's just that when you've been in survival mode for so long it has a way of hardening you. Toddlers, teenagers, CIA investigators??? Bring it.
It was an exciting show, but it didn't last for very many episodes. I think their main problem was letting parents be the contestants. These interrogators didn't stand a chance. Parents are seasoned professionals when it comes to lying. They're the BEST at it. Think about it; Santa, the Easter Bunny, sex....we're talking generations of lies propagated so well that entire industries have survived on their existence.
Sometimes on the show, in order to get someone to crack, the interrogators would use mind games and mental manipulation tactics. The parents would just laugh at these attempts. These are people who have gone up against two year olds and teenagers and have lived to tell! No amount of editing could hide the bewilderment on the faces of the investigators as tactic after tactic failed and the clock eventually ran out. As for the contestants who were not parents? They folded within hours. But not ol' Ma and Pa.
In short, you can starve us, lock us up in solitary confinement, and deprive us of the essentials like sleep, sex and texting...but we are made of steal. We've long since forgotten what it felt like to flinch. Not that we're necessarily super smart or anything...it's just that when you've been in survival mode for so long it has a way of hardening you. Toddlers, teenagers, CIA investigators??? Bring it.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Queen of Clean Meets Her Match
These pictures mean that I am happy,
and that my office is a MESS!
(if you scrapbook or make your own cards, you know what I mean)
Emily and I have spent the past week making cards together and I have loved every minute!
But I think that I've finally made a mess that I can't clean up.
Yup...I just don't know how to put away this much paper; at least not in any way remotely organized. Who knew that paper, of all things, would be my demise.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Cockroach Rescue
Saturday Mark and I had the privilege of attending the Whole Blu World event at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago; a hoity-toity, prom for grown-ups, dress to the nines kind of event. And for us...it was free, courtesy of a generous investor who is linked to Mark's company and who also LOVES donating to the aquarium. To this generous benefactor I say: Thank You! We had a ball.
Although I have no idea how much was donated in our behalf, I do know that it was enough to merit our wearing a VIP band on our wrist all night. I hope that this somehow made up for the fact that we were NOT dressed to the nines, in fact we barely made it past the sixes. So if anyone asks...we were the 'eccentric' philanthropists at the party. Yeah...that works.
Tables were strewn throughout the aquarium, offering hors d'oeuvres size menu samples from some of the best restaurants in town. I skipped the caviar table not only because that stuff tastes nasty, but because it's just rude to serve fish eggs at an aquarium. Live music was enjoyed and a dance commenced on the patio that overlooked Lake Michigan. The dazzling view of Chicago's glittering skyline was even more spectacular than the fireworks show.
But the highlight of the evening? For us, it was the discovery of a Madagascar Cockroach that had escaped from an exhibit. This baby was HUGE and it was just about to enter the main exhibit area and either cause a commotion, or meet an untimely demise. Well, seeing as we were playing the part of the eccentric philanthropists that night....we rescued him.
Mark scooped him up while I squelched the desire to have a panic attack. We began to look for an employee but opted instead for a discreet toss of the critter back behind a partition at the Amazon exhibit. Surprisingly, no one even noticed we were carrying a large cockroach around; maybe he looked like an hors d'oeuvres?
These are the cupcakes we were given to take home as we left the aquarium.
Everyone got one, even people who did not save a bug's life.
Although I have no idea how much was donated in our behalf, I do know that it was enough to merit our wearing a VIP band on our wrist all night. I hope that this somehow made up for the fact that we were NOT dressed to the nines, in fact we barely made it past the sixes. So if anyone asks...we were the 'eccentric' philanthropists at the party. Yeah...that works.
Tables were strewn throughout the aquarium, offering hors d'oeuvres size menu samples from some of the best restaurants in town. I skipped the caviar table not only because that stuff tastes nasty, but because it's just rude to serve fish eggs at an aquarium. Live music was enjoyed and a dance commenced on the patio that overlooked Lake Michigan. The dazzling view of Chicago's glittering skyline was even more spectacular than the fireworks show.
But the highlight of the evening? For us, it was the discovery of a Madagascar Cockroach that had escaped from an exhibit. This baby was HUGE and it was just about to enter the main exhibit area and either cause a commotion, or meet an untimely demise. Well, seeing as we were playing the part of the eccentric philanthropists that night....we rescued him.
Mark scooped him up while I squelched the desire to have a panic attack. We began to look for an employee but opted instead for a discreet toss of the critter back behind a partition at the Amazon exhibit. Surprisingly, no one even noticed we were carrying a large cockroach around; maybe he looked like an hors d'oeuvres?
These are the cupcakes we were given to take home as we left the aquarium.
Everyone got one, even people who did not save a bug's life.
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