Happy Things

A few weeks ago as this latest season of thanks was blown in on the cool, fall breeze, I began my annual tradition of reflecting on the things for which I'm overwhelmingly grateful. Obviously I have an infinite number of reasons to humbly offer my gratitude to the Almighty, and trust me I do - obsessively. But, aside from the never changing blessings of my faith, health, job and freedom - I have an eclectic list of things that bring me joy. Here is a small, by no means exhaustive, list of some of my most recent, favorite, "happy things":

* Run on sentences, keep reading and you'll see why; it would be truly impossible for me to blog or journal without them!

* Good, original, funky, contemporary art with amazing colors, interesting composition and unexpected form, it has made decorating my place so much more exciting, especially when I find something unique that no one else will ever have.

* Hummus, I think I should invest in it because I eat it almost every day without fail. I like all varieties and shovel it in like a starving, desperate woman instead of a civilized, obviously well-fed American. It's too good for me to pass up and I hope I never have to live without it. Yummy!


* Pedicures are such a delightful way to spend an hour, what could be better than someone massaging my feet and calves, putting goopy, smelly green stuff on my feet and scrubbing off my callouses to reveal soft, smooth skin all before painting my toenails in lovely shades of "Rosy Mistletoe" (complete with daisies to decorate my big toe), "Let Them Eat Cake", "Smokin' in Havana" or "Grand Canyon Sunset"?

* Mineral makeup that doesn't cake or sink into the "fine lines" that have sprouted on my once smooth face. This stuff is great, comes with an SPF of 15 and doesn't fade as quickly as liquid makeup, which I loathe anyway; it also doesn't rub off on my clothes and does a fairly decent job of covering my "spots" as my nephew likes to call them. I'm a believer and there's no goin' back now, look for me on the next infomercial!


* Soy Chai, from Starbuck's to Serina's I don't care just serve it to me hot and I'm happy, this stuff is ADDICTIVE (thanks for getting me hooked Serina) and a very nice treat when the weather is cool and I'm tired of diet soda.

* 1010987. I LOVE those 7 digits because dialing them symbolizes one of the best parts of my week, the chance to talk to Laurie for a good hour or two, even if it is usually at some horribly early hour on this side of the Atlantic when I should be snoring, but instead find myself dialing the magic numbers that let us stay connected, INEXPENSIVELY, even though there are thousands of miles and 7 hours between us.

* Cheap gas - $1.65/gal yesterday, I haven't paid that little since 2005!!! Although as a side note, I must add that I would be even MORE grateful if "W" and Dick would try to rectify at least one of their many booboos and "encourage" their greedy, price-gouging, CEO friends to refund us lowly middle class folk for all of the overpriced gas we were forced to purchase the past 3 years....okay, back to happy things!

* Silence - which mostly brings me peace, serenity and rest, especially if I have my candles lit and the air is scented with a mix of spices, and I'm wearing my pink plaid flannel jammies. I crave silence, which scares me on some level because it confirms that I have officially turned into an old fogey, as evidenced by my near panic attacks at the thought of too much noise and/or chaos, unless I'm at a concert or something, at which point silence is way overrated. But, I have to be honest and admit that sometimes I can't stand the silence and freak out and become completely irrational and difficult to handle. This usually occurs when I'm in the throes of PMS and as Laurie, Serina or Steph can attest to, it's NOT pretty, which leads me to my next happy thing.....

* Girlfriends. How would anyone of us survive our emotions, men, families, fashion and PMS without a girlfriend, or two, or three, or four, to listen to us whine, moan, kvetch, vent and over analyze every word, action, deed or encounter we have with every single person in a given day? And HOW would we ever go to the bathroom alone or know what to expect when contemplating hair dye, new laundry detergent, lipstick shades and the best shampoo? Impossible to imagine.

* Malibu Castle - okay, to be honest I don't really love this place for me, BUT I do love to spend time with my nephews and THEY love this place, so that means I love it by default because it makes them happy and I get to watch and participate in their happiness, which in turn makes me happy! Got that?

* Road trips are still fun even after experiencing so many of them, especially when I don't have to drive - watching the miles pass by, wondering about the drivers and passengers in other cars, singing with abandon, keeping an eye out for the next bathroom, trying to figure out how to read the map/directions so we don't get horribly lost in an unfamiliar city - been there, done that! (note to self - on a map, "W" is an abbreviation for "West" not our outgoing President......)

* My Personal Trainer - as I type this I'm forcing myself to be grateful because her idea of a workout is more like my idea of torture. And since she won the battle of wills today I can barely walk, instead I'm kind of hobbling like a pirate with a peg leg after pushing 260 pounds with my calves. Do I hear a collective ouch? BUT, when I get out the measuring tape and see that I have lost 3 inches off of my waist and 3 inches off of my hips I become exceedingly grateful that she has a sadistic side, so I'm signing up for more torture and investing my money in the gym, the stock market is too volatile anyway!

* India Palace - the BEST Indian Food in San Antonio. Which means I should thank Rene for introducing me to my favorite haunt....and Lane for making sure I get my fix on a regular basis....and Laurie for indulging me when she would rather have had Mexican food....and Amy for trying something new when I had a craving and an interview across the street. Oh, the list goes on and on.....India Palace is a VERY happy thing!

* Clay Casa - even though I'm a "wannabe" when it comes to art, this place lets me be creative in a variety of ways - painting pottery, piecing together mosaics, glass fusion and now silver jewelry molding. Woohoo!!! AND, my niece usually goes with me so I get to spend 3 hours of quality time being creative with her, which is more fun than spending 3 hours being creative alone, unless I'm in my silent mode.....

* Family, even the crazy ones. They make me laugh (and cry) and give me someone to "blame" for my neurosis. They also remind me of where I come from and sometimes scare me with visions of how I'll look when I'm old......Dad, did you HAVE to pass on your chin and thighs to me??? Seriously, those really should have gone to the boys!

* Friends, people who love me, or TRY to because they WANT to, NOT because they have to. WOW, it's completely overwhelming to share my very messy life with people who could easily and with good reason choose to walk away from my complicated, neurotic self. Thanks for sticking it out with me. Because you love me well and practice the type of community modeled by Christ I have found deep healing and a safe place to discover who I am. For you I'm most grateful.

Nostalgia

Nostalgia is one of the bittersweet by-products of getting older. Reminiscing about the years gone by; looking back at who I used to be; seeing who I am today; looking forward to who I have yet to become. Sometimes there are tears as I confront the dying dreams of my youth. But usually I find serenity when I start digging in their rubble, because despite pain and disappointment, my life is good, and full, and happy. And for that, I'm grateful.

Last weekend was full of nostalgic digging for me. I felt like I was stuck in a time warp as I was transported to my youth during a reunion concert of one of my favorite artists. Granted, most of the concert-goers were, ahem, "aging", some more gracefully than others, and no one really stood or danced for long, (at least not like they did 20 years ago!) Yet, it was still fun watching the band, swaying to the rhythm, listening (and singing!) every word to songs I've known for 20-25 years. Remembering what they meant to me when most of my life was still stretched out before me. Knowing what they mean now as I approach the middle of my life. Wondering what they will mean when I'm old and gray and spend more of my time remembering than doing. Those 3-minute melodies formed the soundtrack of my youth and they always transport me back in time.

As the last strains of that soundtrack faded I traveled on to Tulsa to attend the wedding of my nephew, a man still in the prime of his life. Youthful, handsome, hopeful. It was moving to watch the man I remember as a little boy embrace his glowing bride. To observe my parents as their pride and joy, my brother, watched his own pride and joy enter a new stage of life. I don't think I've ever seen my brother "beam" as he did on that night. To catch a glimpse of nostalgia as it crossed my sister-in-law's face and momentarily clouded her stunning blue eyes with tears. To sit and know the groom's sister, my niece, as an equal, a fully grown, married woman instead of the girl she once was. It was deeply moving and powerful to watch all of these things with the memories of soccer games, dance recitals, graduations and travels swirling around in my head. How has time passed so quickly?

As nostalgic as I sometimes am for the carefree days of my 20s, other than Laurie moving back, I usually don't ever want things to go back to how they used to be. Too many painful wounds that I'd rather leave alone. So, although I allow myself some nostalgia, I'd rather move forward, learn, grow, live and love. Freely. Openly. Vulnerably. Peacefully. And so I am.

Most Embarrassing Moment #3

Once upon a time there was a young teen (yours truly) who was gifted with an extensive underwear collection by her lovably eccentric Grandma Jim. (Yes, she had a boy's name - long story.) And since I was the first granddaughter she went all out when it came to outfitting me in cute, girlie delicates.

Now Grandma Jim didn't buy plain white undies, no sirree, she bought undies with characters on them, like whales and ladybugs and fairies - great when you're 3 - not so much when you're 15! Every birthday and Christmas brought a blush to my cheeks as I was "encouraged" to hold up my gifts and display them so my family could ooh and ah. Sometimes Grandma went off the radar and bought outrageous gifts like a "jeweled spider hair bun holder thingy" (I still have it as proof of her eccentricities) but no matter what she always kept me well-stocked in underwear. And I wore them because I didn't know any better and I figured no one else would see them.

I WAS WRONG.

One hot, humid, East Texas, summer day my youth group took a trip to Astroworld. We piled in the blue and white church bus and sang silly songs for the drive to the theme park. We were obnoxious dorks but we sure had fun! We were also daredevils and rode EVERY scary ride from the gigantic roller coaster to the "Screamer". AND we were hot. REALLY hot. So we rode the log ride and "Thunder" OVER and OVER to cool off with the splashes of icy water. It made the humidity and hot Texas sun infinitely more bearable.

There I was, my undies safely hidden beneath a very cute magenta skort. Until I rode the log ride and discovered that magenta becomes transparent when it gets wet. So I got to walk around Astroworld, trying not to cry as all of my friends and every stranger noticed that my undies were decorated with little blue whales. And that, my friends, is why I buy plain white underwear.

Showerhead Bliss

Ahhh, I'm in heaven. After months of ongoing showerhead trauma I finally did it, I broke down and bought a new one. Yes, I know I could have called the landlord, Ray, but I'm pretty sure he would have just tried to fix the old one, he's cheap that way. Plus, I have "space" issues, meaning I don't like the maintenance man in my space - EVER. So, I decided that daily bliss from a shiny, new showerhead was a great return on a $20 investment. You know what? I was right. I'm MUCH happier now because the spray is steady and the temperature is just right, and I can even adjust the dial and get a little massage, which is F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S after a hard workout! And not to be TOO geeky, but it is Eco-friendly and has a nifty little button that lets me turn off the flow while I'm washing my hair, THAT makes me feel better about taking long showers. (Hey, with my hair it can take 10 minutes just to rinse!)

Now it's on to more pressing matters like the peeling paint in the tub. You see, before I moved in Ray had the tub and sinks "refinished". The sinks have held up fairly well, but not so the tub. It's truly one of the worst refinishing jobs I've ever seen, not that I've really ever seen any refinishing jobs, but I'm just sayin'..... Anyway, the first time I took a bath the paint started bubbling. The next time it started peeling. So can you guess what I have been doing for the past 18 months? Yep, I've been peeling paint every time I take a bath. It's actually cathartic in some ways, kind of like when I peel my skin after a sunburn.... I challenge myself to peel a longer strip each time, and I'm happy to report that I've almost completed the job. All of my hard work has revealed a shiny tub underneath. I can't even figure out WHY the tub was refinished to begin with, but I'm really hoping it had nothing to do with lead or anything toxic! He could have invested that money into replacing the disgusting carpet or feeble dishwasher. But no, he decided to refinish a perfectly good bathtub, which means I get to explain to houseguests why it's partially unfinished now, thus implicating myself in the peeling process...... Thanks Ray.

Daihatsus, Dumptrucks & Electric Cars

Many adults around my age look back on their childhood and chuckle at the cars their parents drove. Huge Buicks, ugly station wagons, Pintos.......UGLY, UGLY, UGLY! But if there were a contest in embarrassing cars of our youth, I would certainly win HANDS DOWN. To be fair, let me clarify: my parents drove some normal cars, like the Subaru station wagon, the Cadillac El Dorado and the Oldsmobile '88, but believe me when I tell you there were some humdingers.

Like this lovely little Japanese import - the miniature Daihatsu:

Or the bane of my 15th year, the dump truck, complete with a wooden bed, only our model was a disgusting shade of green resembling poo.....More on this little gem later in a post about THE most embarrassing moments in my life!

And I can't forget the electric car. My parents were proud owners of one of the earliest models, a "City Car" to be exact, but ours was white.....and it resembled a cheese wedge crawling down the street, (I'm pretty sure it couldn't go faster than 40-50 mph). Of course, we also had to stop and charge it every few hours, or during a rain storm......

There was also a Triumph motorcycle with a white side car, a motor home, a wench truck (similar to a tow truck but the wench pole is bigger), a miniature yellow Honda, and the multi-colored and rusting "to-do" truck, aptly named because there was so much work "to-do" on it.....Ugh, told you I would win!

I'm Voting For.....

Did you REALLY think I would tell you who I'm voting for??? Silly, silly, silly. I'm not that stupid, some of you know where I live! Honestly, I've avoided writing about politics because to be honest I've been bored this election year. Yes, I know, I know, "this is the most important election of our time", but aren't they all?? Most of our current problems can be directly linked to decisions made long ago in administrations far, far away, rendering those seemingly "less important" elections as pretty significant now.

And yet, I'm still bored. I decided early in the year who would win my vote, so the smears, campaign promises and "politics as usual" just don't interest me. I simply don't have the stomach to watch. Nor do I have the stomach to argue about who I'm voting for and why I should choose the other candidate. And enough with the steaming bowls of guilt, I won't eat it so you can quit serving it. How I vote is really just between God, me.....and the electronic voting machine.

Throughout this entire process, the one thing that has not bored me has been the political parodies on Saturday Night Live. Watching Sarah Palin was hysterical, and her husband dancing around in a moose costume? Priceless. At least they can laugh at themselves while they look at Russia from their porch..... Of course the Hilary and Obama impressions were pretty funny too. SNL is at it's best during an election year.

This election year presents a tough choice for people who don't cast their vote based on 2 issues or along party lines. For me it is not as cut and dried as it is for many of my friends. Do I really want a lifetime senator in the White House? Or a woman who uses terms like "Joe six-pack" and "you betcha"? Um, no. Good ole' boys and girls terrify me. But can I really believe in the "candidate of change" who picks a VP from the old guard, a VP with more years in the Senate than almost anyone? No change there...

So I say:

He would definitely shake things up!
(If you have no idea who Pedro is use "Google" to figure it out!)

Brainless Conversations with God

Earlier this week when I hopped on the scale to check my progress in this never ending battle with the bulge I was SHOCKED to see that I had gained 3 pounds. Excuse me??? I've been living on rabbit food. I've been avoiding "bad" carbs. I've erased the word sugar from my vocabulary. I've been walking 4+ miles faithfully almost every day. I've been paying an arm and a leg to workout with a trainer who causes me physical pain. I've been really good, and I haven't cheated!!! How in the world did I GAIN 3 pounds???

At this point a rational person would have stopped and calmly considered the situation, but I chose "crazy, psycho woman mode" and decided that the Almighty and I needed to have a chat about how unfair all of this was.

Really. BAD. Idea. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. And thus began another of my brainless conversations with God.

Me: I'm confused! I'm doing everything right. Why did I gain 3 pounds?
God: silence
Me: Do you think you could help me out here? I'm really trying!

God: silence

Me: You WANT me to be fat, don't you? You really don't care that I'm trying so hard, do you? Are you trying to teach me a lesson? Because this is a really cruel way to do it!!!
God: silence
Me: Why are you doing this to me???
God: silence
Me: Fine if you don't want to help me then I'm done. I'm tired of trying. If this is all I get then why don't I just go have a slice of pizza? If I'm destined to be fat anyway I'm going to eat what I want. So there.
God: silence
Me: Whatever. I knew this would happen anyway. Since I'm supposed to "give thanks in everything" let me just say thanks for all of your "help". Hmmffff.
God: silence
Me: Finally snapping out of "crazy, psycho woman mode" thinks, hmmmm, maybe I'm retaining water. When was my last cycle? Oh. Blush. That's it. I really hate PMS. God?? I'm really sorry please don't strike me dead. Thanks.

God: No problem, and you're welcome...

Yes, I know what you're thinking - "Watch out for lightning" and believe me I am! Sigh, maybe when PMS is no longer in my vocabulary I'll get it right. I sure hope so, I'm tired of being an idiot....

The Human Coupon

I don't know anyone who hates a bargain, especially considering our nation's current financial crunch. With fears of a worsening recession and possibly another depression looming I am finding myself clipping more and more coupons in an effort to save pennies. Of course, I did that before the stock market took a dive, I'm just more anal about it now. Make no mistake, I have an eagle eye when it comes to making sure every last penny is deducted from my bill. There is no way I'm going to pay $0.25 more if a coupon says I don't have to!

One reason I love coupons so much is because they save me from haggling. I have no bargaining skills - zero, zip, nada. I'm a sight to see in foreign markets where it's expected that people will bargain. I'm sure I've paid triple the price for many items because I was just too nervous to actually try to get a better deal. If I didn't look so much like him, my bargaining failures would make me wonder if I were even related to my family's very own walking, talking Human Coupon - my dad. The man can walk into a restaurant and get a discount for no reason. He can effortlessly trade one piece of....er, junk (sorry Dad!) for another. He can find the only thing worth finding at a garage sale and pay almost nothing for it. He can scour an antique shop, find a valuable piece of furniture and walk out with freebies. One time he went with me to find a dresser. When I saw what I wanted I was willing to pay the full asking price, but he sensed a bargain and managed to get the owner to throw in a scooter (or bicycle, I forget). Had I not blown it by speaking too soon I'm sure he would have walked out with more loot. Um, yeah I definitely lack the Human Coupon gene. Darn it.

You know how some people have a sign on their forehead? Mine says, "Sure, you can tell me everything I never wanted to know about yourself, no problem!", while his says, "Human Coupon, you will give me a deal!" Sigh, I like his sign better......but since mine was apparently tattooed in permanent ink I have decided to take him with me when I want a better deal. He gets to do the talking, I get to do the listening and we both walk out happy. So Dad, I have some shopping to do, are you free on Wednesday? It's a triple coupon day!

Autumn's Harvest

Autumn, my favorite season. To me it's the perfect blend of summer and winter. Deep breaths of crisp air. Thinking that I might need a jacket but choosing to go without one just so I can feel chilly. Spicy scents of nutmeg and cinnamon. Pumpkin patches with the kids. Crunchy leaves. Rich, earthy colors. Delicious pumpkin bread. Anticipation of the holidays. Ahhh, I love fall!

It's my favorite time of year to travel. Getting to see the changing leaves that I miss while living in South Texas. A stunning mix of red, gold and orange set against a turquoise sky. Relaxing at festivals. Reveling in the general excitement that people feel after the heat of summer has been chased away by shorter days and cool breezes.

I love the fact that I can wear a sweater and feel all warm and cuddly. I adore listening to George Winston's "Autumn" while I curl up on my couch with a woobie, sip hot tea and read with the scent of a cinnamon candle wafting into the air.

Fall has bewitched me with its melancholy mood, so perfectly suited to my temperament. And in a season meant for reaping I have found the harvest to be plentiful this year. Though I don't till the soil of the earth I do till the soil of my soul, and the hard work is finally bearing fruit. Embracing truth, learning to love freely, settling in to how much my Savior loves me. I'm growing and stretching and hoping. I'm seeking and listening and accepting. Shedding old, dysfunctional coping skills and adopting new, healthy ones. Ahhh, I love fall, it's such a beautiful season in my life!

Seriously, Please Don't

I have spent the past 14 years of my life working for doctors, and for the most part I enjoy the field of medicine, at least the administrative side. But boy have I had some interesting experiences. While most of us could be considered "quirky" by others, (especially me!) there are some people whose names MUST appear beside the word if you were to look it up in the dictionary!

Currently I work for GI doctors, specialists who deal with everything from the Esophagus to the Colon. That means a lot of colonoscopies, which in turn means a lot of "preps", which is the industry term for cleaning out the colon before that dreaded procedure. Preps have come a long way and are now available in pill form which alleviates the need to drink that hideous, chalky liquid before becoming best friends with the great, white, porcelain throne. But it's important to know that preps have never included the use of suppositories, unfortunately we had a patient who didn't get that memo...

She was a very old lady (close to 90), a gentle, kind, mannerly woman; the kind of woman you imagine as the best grandmother in the world - capable of dispensing warm hugs, encouragement and the best home-cooking ever. She was very, very nice and endearing. But she was old and easily confused. The day after her consultation she called and spoke to an equally kind and gentle medical assistant. The patient was concerned because she was experiencing extreme discomfort in preparing for the procedure. The MA tried to reassure her that the discomfort was not abnormal but the patient was adamant that the suppositories were not working. At this point the MA's ears perked up because suppositories are not normally prescribed before a colonoscopy. She asked the patient the name of the prescription and was alarmed when she discovered that the patient had mistaken the tablet, to be taken orally, for a suppository, to be inserted rectally. The MA gently explained that the prescription was to be taken by mouth with a glass of water to which the patient replied, "Oh! I was wondering how I was going to get 32 up there." Needless to say we now stress that there are NO suppositories involved in colon preps. Why would you put something in your colon when you're trying to clean it out??? Mercy me!

Before entering the GI field, I was the Administrator for a mental health clinic, which also provided me with many memorable experiences. At times I had to restrain patients, call the police/911 and confiscate razor blades. I also cried when patients regressed or couldn't heal from their emotional wounds. But on the other hand I saw people grow and deal with their problems. I saw marriages renewed, depression lifted and Schizophrenics and Bipolars stabilized. It was very rewarding to be part of the process that allowed so many to heal.

I have a heart of compassion for those struggling with serious mental illness. And now that I work for GI doctors, I have heart of compassion for those struggling with embarrassing physical ailments. But no matter how sick a person is, there are certain things that should never be done.

I humbly offer the following insider tips based on my own experiences (yes all of these things have really happened):

*Please don't assume that I secretly work for the CIA, the only reason I know your name, rank and serial number is because you gave it to me. Accusing me of being a spy will make me wonder what you're really up to... Besides, if I were a spy it would be dangerous to blow my cover.

*On the other hand, since I'm really NOT a spy, please don't assume that I know who you are unless you tell me. There are hundreds of patients who visit or call the office, it's unlikely that I will remember you unless you do the last thing on this list...

*Please don't shove anything furry and/or squirming in my face. I WILL scream and possibly cry. Then your poor "gerbil, mouse, hamster, ferret, squirrel, lizard, snake" will likely panic, get loose and scare everyone else in the office. So just don't.

*And if you own said "gerbil, mouse, hamster, ferret, squirrel, lizard, snake", please don't bring homemade cookies, cakes or food to me, as I will not eat them, EVER, and neither will the doctor.

*Please don't leave your psychiatrist's office and attempt to hit on me by asking the following, "So, are you a patient here?" I can assure you I won't be flattered.

*Please don't yell at me because the doctor is running late, it's really not my fault. And don't blame the pharmaceutical reps either, the doctor has to meet with them to get the samples you want...

*Please don't wait until Friday afternoon to request a refill for a medication you "can't live without". I do not have the legal authority to refill your prescription without the doctor's approval, and the doctor is not usually available on Friday afternoon, which means you will have to wait for an on-call doctor to be paged, contact the pharmacy and approve the medication you "forgot" you so desperately needed....

*Please don't discuss your bodily functions in the waiting room or with the administrative staff, I'm not lying when I say that NO ONE but the doctor is as fascinated with your bowel movements as you are...

*And most importantly, WHATEVER you do, PLEASE DO NOT bring a plastic grocery bag full of your excrement into the office. EVERYONE will be completely disgusted and the doctor will likely schedule a psychiatric evaluation for you, seriously, please don't.