5 Minutes With My Box

Who would have guessed that cleaning out a closet would rip me out of 2009 and send me flying back to the past? I started cleaning out my boxes of memorabilia from my youth. I'm not sure how I ever put a lid on those boxes, because they were teeming with stories, emotion, pain, and heart-breaking forgiveness that flew out at me as soon as I started sifting through the jumble.

* I found a crumpled piece of paper that held a reproof from a friend. I remember how angry I was because she was SO right... so I kept wadding the paper up in a ball, then unfolding it to read it again, and re-wadding it.

* I read a plea from a guy friend who told me he was so scared that our friendship would change after high school. He was afraid that I would move on with life and forget about him. Ironically, this guy has pushed me so far out of his life now that we haven't been able to even talk in years. Sad.

* I read letter after letter from one friend, apologizing for treating me so badly and wishing that she were a better friend. She was one of the best friends I've ever had and I never understood what she felt so guilty about. I still adore her whole-heartedly.

* I found a "love note" from a guy that I had never dated, telling me that he would never french kiss me because it symbolized ***. Gosh, that sure won my heart over as I ran screaming in the opposite direction. In case it's not clear, he didn't need to worry about the kissing bit. Really, really, really didn't need to worry.

* I found an old prom picture with a boyfriend who had scrawled "I love you" on the bottom. Dang I was skinny.

* I found love poetry that I wrote for Josh

* I found love poetry that I did NOT write for Josh

* I found multiple letters from a guy named "Mark" and couldn't for the life of me figure out who he was... Until I found some pictures and remembered freaky-guy Mark and how we had been pen pals until he sent pictures and I saw how freaky he and his life were.

* I found the letter that my first boyfriend sent in response to my "Dear John." His missionary companions had a few choice words for me after the breakup:

I've known Elder XXXXX since he first got here. He's an incredible man and a wonderful missionary. Are you sure you don't want to restate that lovely letter you penned him? Well, you know what, IT DON'T NOT MATTER CUZ HE DON'T CARE ANYHOW. ... I pray that your life in XXXXXless solitude will be as frutiferous as an Argentine street vender in Lomas de Zamora. With all my deep love and appreciation for the laughs, Elder Sanches

The other replies are less interesting/probably more so but in Spanish. I don't speak Spanish.

* I fought back tears as I read the sincere apology the above ex-boyfriend sent me a few months later:

You and your firendship have always meant a lot to me and just because you've decided to marry one of my best friends doesn't mean all that has to end...

He and I are still friends and I get together with his wife every month for a Girl's Night Out. That's the power of "moving on."

* I found an old email that a "friend" had sent to Mr. XXXXX while he and I were dating. In the email, this "friend" of mine demanded that he stop paying attention to me and start dating her instead. Since my boyfriend showed me the letter and let me REPLY to her from his account, I think you understand the way things were. Luckily for both of us, there was a problem with the mail server and she never got my reply. That was a stroke of luck.

* I found at least a dozen letters from a guy that I couldn't for the life of me remember. As I went through the box, I unraveled the mystery a little bit. Embarrassing to realize I'd forgotten him.

* I found several letters from somebody else that I still can't place. Sorry, Nelson, but I have no idea who you are. Even if we did correspond while you were a missionary.

* I found my ACT score of 32. Dude.

* I found two of the college recruitment letters that I got in high school. I had a whole box of them but apparently only kept the ones from Brown and Yale. I am very upset that I didn't keep the one from MIT. And I'm still slightly offended that I didn't get one from Harvard. They were the only Ivy League to ignore me. Hmph. All I can say is:

H-A-R

H-A-R

H-A-R with a V

V-A-R

V-A-R

V-A R with a D

Harvard boys are big and tough.

They know how to knit and stuff.

Harvard! Yoo hoo!

(Courtesy of my Yale alum family members)

* I found a short (VERY short) story I had written at a VERY young age. It was called "The Frozen Unicorn" and was so creative that I was jealous of the younger me.

* I found the famous Fight I had with one of my best friends while we sat in the back of a BYU class. I had no idea I kept it. She and I are getting together this weekend, and I can't wait to reopen this can of worms! Time brings great perspective.

That is only skimming the top of what I found in those old boxes of stuff. Someday I'll do a blog giveaway, and the prize will be FIVE SOLID MINUTES alone with My Box. If you don't laugh, cry and get some good inspiration for a melodramatic movie or novel, I guarantee your money back.

High School Assemblies

During my sophomore and junior years in high school, a string of tragic car accident claimed the lives of several students. They were so young, so full of promise. I didn't know them personally but mourned along with the school.

Nevertheless, life went on. There is no compromising with the dictates of fate. Death is absolute; so is the throbbing continuation of life and renewal. So the student body picked itself up and cleansed itself from sorrow. Laughter filled the hallways. Flirtations made young heart and minds accelerate in anticipation. Jocks continued to increase their physical prowess. Intellectuals continued to increase their cerebral prowess.

Sorrow forgot--life continues onward.

There were times during the year when the student body came together as a sort of celebration of uniqueness and sameness. Assemblies. We all squeezed into our auditorium and basked in the lack of class time. Our eyes scanned the crowd for the friends that we could sit by, head to head, and laugh quietly with during the hour. After we were seated, our eyes still scanned the crowd for that special boy or girl that we just couldn't stop thinking about. Was he nearby? Did he see me? Would he come sit by me? Who was he with?

As the social fever pulsated, the faculty tried to quiet the roar long enough to establish some sense of order. The program was announced. Speakers spoke. Students clapped. The different classes tried to outdo each other with their chants of "95! 95! Ninety ninety ninety ninety 95!!!" The class of '95 was always the most vocal and seemed to honestly think that they were blessed with some superhuman specialness because they were part of the glorious graduating class of 1995. We '96ers were jealous of their enthusiasm, tried to emulate them and always fell short, muttering about how cool they thought they were (but really weren't).

One of the highlights of the assemblies was the student performances. Young vocalists donned long gowns and tried to sing Celine in a new way. Rocks bands feverishly banged their heads up and down and tried to keep a rhythm, but generally failed. Aspiring comedians tried to make the students laugh. We did laugh, but perhaps not for the reasons they had hoped.

The atmosphere was tangible as we celebrated our unique accomplishments but bonded together as students of our beloved school. We stood on our feet and passionately sang our school song. Joy was palpable.

Then one day, it happened. We were giggling, figuring out our after-school plans and exchanging glances that meant, "Did he seriously just sing that in front of 2,000 people? I'd rather be caught dead!" 

Two young men stepped onto the stage, acoustic guitars in hand. They were popular and good looking. The crowd welcomed them with screams and applause.

They sat down on stools solemnly and began to sing.

Would you know my name

If I saw you in heaven?

Will it be the same

If I saw you in heaven?

We immediately recognized who these people were. They were friends of the crash victims. We instantly understood. They weren't singing to the 2,000 people who were watching. They were singing to their friends. Whispering stopped. Laughter died away. Notes were not passed. The cute guy in the row ahead was forgotten. This was a sacred moment.

I must be strong, and carry on

'Cause I know I don't belong

Here in heaven

Time can bring you down

Time can bend your knee

Time can break your heart

Have you begging please

Begging please

There are some friendships in life that are so intense and so important that they can't be forgotten. There are some moments in life so unexpected, so intense and so important that they can't be forgotten. Both are sacred. Both are hallowed.

Beyond the door, there's peace I'm sure

And I know there'll be no more

Tears in heaven

I <3 Books

This is my nightstand.

I love reading. Can you tell? Here is what is on my nightstand right now:

* Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell -- Given to me by my Mom. Haven't started yet.

* Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury -- Bought last week and I'm LOVING it

* Story Structure Architect: A Writer's Guide to Building Dramatic Situations and Compelling * Characters by Victoria Lynn Schmidt -- Bought last week

* Goose Girl by Shannon Hale -- Bought last weekend at the Provo Book Fair and got autographed. I need to take this one upstairs. Just haven't done it yet.

* The Book of Mormon

* Characters and Viewpoint by Orson Scott Card -- Lent to me by my friend. About halfway done.

* The Mom's Book -- For the Mom Who's Best at Everything by Alison Maloney -- Given to me as a gift and I haven't started yet.

* Webster's New World English Grammar Handbook

* The Candy Shop War by Brandon Mull -- Bought last weekend at the Provo Book Fair, got it autographed and am enjoying it quite a bit.

* Fablehaven by Brandon Mull (2 copies)  -- Also bought at the Provo Book Fair, got them autographed and now I'm deciding which lucky nephew gets to have the spare.

* In the South by Salman Rushdie (short story printed from The New Yorker)

* Married for Better, Not Worse by Gary & Joy Lundberg -- Read a long time ago, thought I'd pull it out to remember the fun ideas it has inside for getting to know your spouse better

* I Don't Have to Make Everything All Better by Gary & Joy Lundberg -- Read it, loved it, haven't put it away yet

* The Wizard's Princess by Alyson Ingebretson King -- Written by my friend, Alyson! Loved it and I need to return it!

* The Hiding Place by Carrie Ten Boom -- Lent to me and I haven't started yet (It's on the list. I'll get there!)

* The New Strong-willed Child by James Dobson -- What? My children aren't strong-willed. Why are you looking at me that way?

* Phantom by Susan Ray -- Lent to me and I haven't started it yet

* The Peacegiver by James L. Farrell -- Lent to me and I'm almost done.

* Autobiography of Nuon Phaly (printed from the Internet) -- Story of the woman who started the orphanage where I am supporting an 8-yr-old girl

* Approximately half a dozen articles printed from http://www.lds.org -- This is a fairly regular feature ON or IN my nightstand

* Broken Things to Mend by Jeffrey R. Holland -- Given to me as a gift. I'm done reading it, but haven't taken it uptairs yet.

Looking at this list, I honestly wouldn't believe this would all fit on one nightstand. At least, not alongside a toaster that needs to be sold/given away, Boggle Junior (also needs to be sold/given away), a lamp, receipts from my latest trip to California, a clock and a box of thank you cards. It certainly SHOULDN'T all be crammed into one small space, but there you have it. I love books. I love reading. I want everything to be within my reach when I settle down to sleep each night.

Still ... it may be time to tidy things up.

Passion of Words

An invitation, an opening of arms--a plea--for the readers who open their minds to my craft:

I have built for you a house of words. Come, warm yourself by my fire. Breathe in the metaphors and imagery that I have carefully constructed as a gift for you. Tumble, fall, lose yourself in a new world.

I hold this world in my hands and offer it--so tentatively--for your inspection. Step in or step away--this world of words will still sit at my fingertips, spinning and flashing light, even if I enter this world alone. It is a castle of creativity, a yurt of passion, an empty meadow asking to be discovered.

I have opened the canvas wide and invited you to view this world with open eyes.

Come. Lose yourself and discover yourself.

Read. Think. Question. Ponder. Argue. See.

Be.

In the Language of Steinbeck

Last night, I started dreaming in Steinbeck. I have occasionally dreamt in German when I was younger, but never before in Steinbeck. John Steinbeck has a language all his own in the humble opinion of this devoted fan. His collections of words are piercingly true and imbued with a distant calm that simply sees life as it is.

I started reading "Tortilla Flat" a few days ago and I have already found myself narrating events around me in that unemotional third-person omniscience that makes Steinbeck so Steinbeckian. Or Steinbeckish. Or choose your own adjective. Last night, I was awakened from a dream and realized in shock that my dream was somehow colored through and through with the voice of John Steinbeck. Life was good.

~ ~ ~

Yesterday was Mother's Day. Don't even ask unless you really want to know. I wrote a four-page, single-space diatribe against this semi-annual Day of Wasted Expectations but decided that it may not be fit for public consumption. Email me if you want to read it.

~ ~ ~

Looks like I'll be headed to Deutschland in about a month. Wow! It has been a seriously long time since I have spoken any German, so I better start brushing up.

~ ~ ~

I took two of my nephews to "Math Circle" at Brigham Young University last weekend. The professor who runs the group looked at my two kids who were tagging along, trying to decide if they were going to be a part of the group or if they were just there to tag along. He looked Joseph over and handed him a worksheet and pencil. Then he turned to Thomas. Little, blonde four-year-old Thomas. He hesitated. 

"Does he understand clockwise and counterclockwise?" he asked. 

"Uhhh... probably not," I replied.

"Can he read?"

"Yeah, he can read."

That was enough for this math devotee. He plopped a worksheet fit for teenagers down in front of my four-year-old and went about his business. I couldn't help smiling. 

0.69

69 cents. That's how much I earned through AdSense last month. At this rate, I'll be rich in about three millenia. It's a good thing I'm a very patient woman.

Happy Mother's Day

I really do love being a Mom. I really, really do. But somehow I have this little sarcastic side of me that can't be contained. Sigh.

So, that being said... If I could give a Mother's Day card to all of you lovely mothers out there, it might just be this one that I picked up in Sausalito:

Visit Anne Taintor's website for other great vintage chuckles!

Happy Mother's Day!

TOP TEN!

Top Ten worst things about being a stay-at-home Mom:

10. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

9. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

8. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

7. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

6. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

5. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

4. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

3. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

2. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

and... the NUMBER ONE worst thing about being a stay-at-home Mom... drum roll, please....

1. The repetitive, monotonous, boring routine of doing the same thing day after day after day.

Hey, how are you?

Choose your preferred reply so I know how to respond when you ask how I'm doing. This might be better for everyone involved, since I'm not yet convinced that honesty is always the best policy.

A. "Fine."

B. "You know ... same old, same old."

C. "Great! My life is so stupendously perfect that yours probably pales in conparison!!! If you were predisposed to dislike me, this totally annoying reply will give you the justification needed to fully hate me without any guilt!"

D. "My current emotional state makes it difficult to believe that a future filled with any form of happiness, joy or social satisfaction is possible to achieve. In fact, I think that not only would hell have to freeze over for that to happen, but pigs would also have to be flying. In hell frozen over. And the pigs would have to be sweating despite the obviously frigid temperatures. That is how impossibly depressed I feel because of the number of rejections, failures, disappointments and problems in my life right now. How are you?"

E. "Why are you asking me this? What do you know? I didn't do it. Probably didn't. Maybe. If I did, I have a really good excuse for why I did. Stop looking at me that way."

F. I don't know. Ask me tomorrow.

Just leave your preferred reply below. XOXO

p.s. Can you tell it was a rough day?

6 Idol Observations

Last night was rock 'n roll night at American Idol and it was ..... a heck of a thing. A few observations:

1. Everybody knew that Adam & Allison would have a serious edge this week because this is comfortable ground for them. Was I the only one cringing just thinking about how Kris & Danny would survive this genre?

2. Adam & Allison were given the chance to make the first impression. They were in their element and delivered.

3. Adam & Allison were ALSO given the final moments to "get the last word" in the competition with their duet. They delivered again.

4. Seems like the cards were stacked pretty heavily for Adam & Allison to come out huge last night. Kris & Danny were stuffed into the middle, with their songs coming immediately after their duet. No time to rest or recoup. For Kris especially, he had to sing just a few minutes after hearing Simon's disheartening criticism of the duet. Harsh. Good thing I'm not a conspiracy theorist, because if I were, I'd be screaming "FOUL!" for my two favorites left in the competition.

5. Okay, fine. Keepin' it real? Kris' performance was weak and boring. Danny's was entertaining in a horrifying "can't take your eyes off the train wreck" sort of way. It was literally painful to not hit fast-forward as I watched my two favorites crash and burn. Dang.

6. Regardless, one bad night doesn't even come close to changing my mind about who I'm supporting. I have a special method of choosing my A.I. favorites: listening to the music. I understand that all of the Idol fans do this, but I do a little something more (and less). I go buy a few songs of each artist on iTunes, then I set them up in a playlist and I LISTEN. No visual distractions. No judges' sarcasm and in-fighting. No phone numbers or threats of elimination. Just music. I find out really quickly which songs get skipped over repeatedly and which songs I fast-forward to find. I'm usually surprised. 

Last year, I was a total Brooke White fan until I stopped and listened... then I realized that I liked her music, but didn't ADORE it like I thought I did. I discovered that I was actually a huge Jason Castro fan. Huh. Who woulda guessed?

This year, I was surprised again. Take away the goofy grin and great hair, and Kris Allen is good... but not fabulously great. Adam Glambert is no longer cute and fun--he's downright annoyingly unlistenable. (Go ahead. Disagree.) And guess what? Allison's take on "Someone to Watch Over Me" will be on my Faves list for a long, long time. But Danny Gokey will be the one that I watch for when new albums start coming out in the fall. His voice, his style... it's by far my favorite.

Even if his rendition of "Dream On" was 1000% worse than Michael John's amazing performance last year. Even if he made me cringe in horror last night. All of that is forgiven. Go Go Gokey!

Unthinking Mistake?

For years, KFC has been trying to shed their "FRIED" persona and appeal to the increasingly health-conscious public. The first step was to rebrand themselves as "KFC" instead of "Kentucky Fried Chicken."

Their latest campaign asks people to "unthink what you thought about KFC." The appeal is fabulous. They're offering a free meal to anybody who wants to download the coupon from Oprah.com today or tomorrow. The website you visit to get the 411 is:

http://www.unthinkfc.com

Undoubtedly, they're hoping people will read this as "Unthink KFC." But with only one "k" in the domain name, it's got to bug people like me who start thinking:

1. Unthink Football Club?

... or could it be that you really mean ...

2. Unthin KFC???

Yes, that's right, folks. Stop thinking about FRIED chicken. Instead, enjoy their new slogan:

UNTHIN KFC!

Paths

We were headed to Sausalito. We didn't know exactly what to expect, but had heard there were cute little shops and great views of the Bay. So we set the Garmin destination to "Sausalito, California" and started driving.

After many twists and turns, we arrived at our destination:

This is when we realized that we had arrived at the dead center of Sausalito, California. Lovely. I was grateful to snap a couple photos of this interesting Linux cart ("LIVE FREE OR DIE!") and laugh at our error. We turned around and thought more carefully about what path we ought to take. Within minutes, we were soaking up the sunshine and ocean(ish) air.

It was a good moment to pause and reflect on what direction my life is headed: do I just try to head in the general direction of where I want my life to go? Or do I pause to think about exactly what lies ahead, what obstacles I will have to overcome on the road and what my goals are?

I think we both know the answer to this already.

When all was said and done, I bought some beautiful new scarves from an adorable little boutique and coveted the chocolate t-shirts at a different store. I walked past a darling little candy store and bought some flavors of taffy to take home to my boys. It looked identical to the stuff I bought in Salt Lake City, but thought I better not mention this to my husband, who would probably frown on the purchase if he realized I was buying it more for the "Look what Mommy brought home from her trip!!" angle than the "I couldn't buy this anywhere else" angle. 

This was when my friend asked, "Where do you get all these flavors of taffy from?" and the owner replied, "It's made in Salt Lake City." I'm fairly sure I winced and tried not to notice my husband's upraised eyebrows.

That evening, when we finally made it home after a day in Sausalito and Muir Woods, I collapsed in exhaustion in our hotel room, sick of being on the road. I looked forward anxiously to meeting up with a friend at Pixar, where we were going to see a movie. Fun! I looked into my purse for my hotel key and realized my wallet was complete AWOL. I searched frantically and we realized it really was gone.

This is the part of the story titled, "Where have you been?"

I thought back over my purchases for the day and started googling the little stores I had shopped at. I felt lost. Helpless. Hopeless. Then I remembered with clarity that I had last used my wallet at a cute little Indian restaurant for lunch. We found the phone number and the owner immediately said with relief, "Yes! I have it for you here! I tried to run after you to give it to you, but you were already gone." In the pandemonium, the Pixar plans got off track and we ended up instead making a 10-minute stop and then driving back to Sausalito in thick fog and gathering darkness. 

Sometimes you know where you want to be, but you have to turn around and go a different direction anyway. It makes you sick. Nauseous. Even a tad angry. What can you do? Only accept. Life is crazy. Sometimes you end up in the wrong place because you didn't plan. Sometimes you end up in the right place because you worked hard to get there. Sometimes you end up in the right place through some crazy piece of cosmic fortune. And sometimes, every once in a while, you end up in a tiny Indian restaurant in Sausalito because your wallet fell out of your purse onto the floor.

And sometimes you end up in the bus lane of the Bay Bridge with your wife crying tears of frustration. But that is another story for another day.

Clever, clever

Somebody just sent me an email with the following instructions for how to start everyday with a "positive outlook":

1. Create a new file on your computer

2. Name it "Barack Obama"

3. Delete the file

4. The computer will ask you "Are you sure you want to get rid of Barack Obama?"

5. Firmly reply YES!

I thought this was quite clever. It deserved an appropriate reply:

How funny. I tried this EXACT thing with the name GEORGE W. BUSH for YEARS and it never cheered me up until this January....

I think it's hilarious when people send me jarring anti-Republican or anti-Democrat emails, forgetting that I'm unlikely to appreciate either extreme, given my proudly independent political views. It makes for great comfort, though, as I click "delete" and firmly reply "YES!" to getting rid of extreme political hate talk at either end of the spectrum. ;)

Idol Chatter, part 2

More random thoughts from the 2009 season of American Idol. This week: night at the movies! Here are my first impressions from watching the show.

Allison :: I Don't Want to Miss A Thing
I immediately thought of David Cook's rendition last year. This one didn't pack as much punch for me, but it was another solid performance from Allison. The wardrobe, as usual, was completely atrocious but she was as lively as ever. It was definitely a crowd pleaser, but just didn't do much for me personally.

Anoop :: Everything I Do
This song fit Anoop's voice perfectly. This is exactly the kind of song that really showcases him and his particular strengths. I thought it was a flawless performance and very well chosen. Much better than the weeks when he has tried to get funky and young. But I'd trim the eyebrows just a little bit, if I had my way.

Adam :: Born to Be Wild
Adam really pumped up the theatricals this week, jumping all around the stage and living up to the name of the song. The beginning was pretty hot for me, but the ending was a huge turnoff as he just went insane with the screechy high notes. Yes, I know you can sing your face off, but a little restraint goes a long way. Surprise me by NOT pulling out all the stops. Give me a soft, gentle ending sometime and let me feel caressed instead of pummeled. Just my own personal preference.

Matt :: Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?
Matt took the piano again this week as he took on the show's second Bryan Adams song. Although the song seemed to fit Matt and his voice perfectly, the beginning was a bit bland and boring for me. It just didn't give Matt a chance to distinguish himself enough to really keep him safe. The ending, however, was a bit more upbeat and memorable for me. The performance was relatively solid, but I don't think it was interesting enough to keep him from worrying all night about whether or not he'll be in the bottom three.

Danny :: Endless Love
What? No glasses? The beginning was really rough for me, but it only took a few moments for me to start thinking, "I've gotta go buy this one on iTunes." The song struck me as a bit outdated, but I happen to like songs that are a bit more old fashioned. I'm still impressed with Danny's quiet confidence and maturity, which is a nice counterpoint to another contestant's loud theatricals.

Kris :: Falling Slowly
Because I adore Kris so much, this song was a huge disappointment. It just never seemed to reach any climax. It really didn't even seem to build much for me. It was just a lot of building to nothing. That being said, I still adore Kris and I'm intrigued to go listen to the song again to see if I'll like it better the second time around. He'll still get my vote, but not because of the song choice this week.

Lil :: The Rose
Quentin Tarantino was right: she needed to commit a bit more soul to the beginning of the song. It's a fabulous song and this either needed a bit more soul, or a bit more gentleness. Either one. This just didn't do much for me personally. Lil has a great voice, but just isn't distinctive enough for me. However harsh Simon's comments were, he had a point.

Juliana's Bottom Three Prediction: Matt, Lil, Kris (I hope I'm wrong about Kris)

Who do you think will make the bottom three?

Most Embarrassing Moment :: UPDATE!

You may remember back in January I decided that enough time has passed for me to confess my most embarrassing moment. It involved me deciding to go to a shrink, seeing her several times and THEN realizing that she and I knew each other. Yes, pretty awesome.

Time for an update.

So my attitude toward shrinks is this: you don't have to be a psychotically warped personality to make good use of psychotherapy. Sometimes it is good to just have a neutral, safe person to talk over life's stresses with. During two very stressful times in the past, I've made good use of our benefits package and signed myself up for getting my head shrunk.

Life has been particuarly stressful the last two months so I thought, "Why not? Here we go again. Number three." I had to find a new head shrinker because of changing benefits and whatnot. So today I approached my first meeting with a total stranger (who would soon know my most embarrassing psychological weaknesses) with a bit of trepidation. The thought flitted through my mind, "I sure hope I don't know THIS person as well." The name was totally unfamiliar so I assumed I was safe.

Funny how our assumptions are so often incorrect.

The first hint that this wasn't going to be a walk in the park: the new therapist's office is directly across an office complex from my neighbor's dental office. I could just imagine him drilling into somebody's tooth, looking up through the large windows and seeing me trying to subtly walk into the office building next door. "I've always known she's a little off," he'd say to himself. After all, who wants to advertise to the world that they're going to a shrink? (I know, I know. But when I have a great story, I forego all logic of social self-preservation. Funny stories come first.)

I filled out the paperwork (name, phone number, address, SSN, blood type, promises of firstborn child if I don't give at least 24 hours notice of cancellation... Okay, I'm joking about those last two) and waited to meet the therapist.

She came around the corner, looked at my face and .... GRINNED IN RECOGNITION! Gosh, what a pleasant surprise! (Online sarcasm is so difficult to master, so I'll tell you now: that last sentence was laced heavily with sarcasm.) Her face looked familiar and my brain immediately went into overdrive trying to match the face to a setting. 

After only a moment or two, she said, "Oh, I've got it! I know you through singing!"

"Oh!" I managed to say with a smile. "NATS?"

"You used to take lessons from Martha right after me," she replied. Oh yeah. Same voice teacher, same night.

So I appear to be either blessed or cursed when it comes to finding therapists. The world in general is too small, or my own world is too large. Either way, life goes on. And some day, this will be yet another hilarious story for me to tell my grandkids repeatedly without noticing the polite smiles that ought to be a hint that I've told this story before.

Dream Big

About a year ago, I was in this crazy, screaming audience:

Being there live was an incredibly invigorating, crazy experience. A little piece of me fell in love with David Cook that day as my emotions ran from boredom in line to anxiety that we wouldn't get in to claustrophobia as the crowd got really intense to elation as we scored better seats than were assigned to us. I've felt connected to "Big David" and "Little David" (as my kids call them) since I got to share that day with them.

The words of that song began swimming around in my head immediately. If you don't dream big, what's the use of dreaming? Reach out for something more. I started thinking about my own dreams in life. What were they? Did I have any? I started to feel aimless, floating around wherever the waves of life carried me. That wasn't a good feeling. What happened to the girl who used to really dream big and make things happen? Where was that crazy lady who was always in the middle of everything?

A piece of me had fallen away. I had lost my way. So I set my New Year's Resolution to live life more purposefully and SEEK OUT happiness, rather than hoping it would fall in my lap. This has been my hardest New Year's Resolution yet, because it requires a lot of painful introspection. It also requires me to deliberately step outside my comfort zone. Who wants to step outside their comfort zone? That sounds so, I don't know... UNCOMFORTABLE.

I'm still working on it, though, and feeling happier than ever. I'm remembering that I have the strength to mold my life into anything I want it to be. I'm not living by fear; I'm living by faith. If you don't have faith, nothing's worth believing.

I was reminded of my resolution today as I read my friend's awesome thoughts on allowing yourself to want things. After all, if you don't know what you want, how do you know which direction to go in life? So I decided I wanted to make a list of my own. And I did it. Here are the first few items that came to mind:

* I want to be the kind of Mom that my kids WANT to talk to when something's on their mind

* I want to be the kind of Mother-in-Law that my kids-in-law really enjoy being around without feeling like they have to hide who they really are

* I want to get a graduate degree someday. MBA? Creative writing? Social work? Who knows. Maybe one of each.

* I want to learn how to do quilling. Maybe I'll learn this week. Why not?

* I want to learn calligraphy. I spent a few hours once trying it out and loved it. It's been about 15 years and I've never gotten back to it.

* I want to learn to be a not-rotten cake decorator. I don't have to do anything fancy, but I still can't handle crumb control, so I'd like to at least figure that much out.

* I love making homemade cards, but they are SO SO homemade. I want to learn some cool paper crafting stuff so I can enjoy making cards, invitations, and other little doo dads when the mood hits me.

* I want to cruise the Mediterranean for a few weeks and see Greece, Italy, the French Riviera, and Egypt.

* I want to have a family cabin someday up in the mountains--a place where my family can go to just get away together and relax. It may not happen, but I can still want it, right?

* I want to build another new house someday with better use of space, cool architectural features and lots of classic style. And lots of awesome finish carpentry work. And a lot more acreage so I have a little privacy.

* I want to have a really cozy, comfortable guest bedroom where people love to come and stay: a place where people feel loved and welcome because they see all the little details that say "I Love You and I'm glad you're here." 

* I want to spend time doing ballroom dancing, just because I love it, and not in any competitive way.

* I want to spend lots of time singing and feel like I'm good at it.

* I want to get a novel published. Why not?

So what do you want from your life? What do you dream of doing someday? Go ahead and let yourself dream. It may not be feasible to make the dreams come true, but if you don't let yourself decide what you want, they won't come true anyway, will they?

DREAM BIG!

No Soliciting. No... Really.

I'm a wimp. This is apparent every time a solicitor comes to the door and I sit there listening politely, knowing we're both wasting time because I won't purchase whatever they're selling. I should just point at the "No Soliciting" sign on the door, look annoyed and slam the door.

Like I said, I'm a wimp. If I weren't a wimp, I'd change that "No Soliciting" sign on the front door. It would instead read:

No Soliciting.

No, really. I mean it.

I don't need my lawn aerated. I don't need my windows washed. No, I don't think I can handle buying that much beef right now, even though the quality must be superb. It's wonderful that you're giving away "free" security systems, but our definitions of "free" don't line up too well. Your produce samples are delicious, but I'm really not in the market to buy at those prices. My cleaning supplies work just fine, but yes, the pictures of your poor, starving children that you're our here working door-to-door in sweltering heat for really are adorable. I'm not in the market to upgrade my television package. I'm happy with my internet provider. Don't even talk to me about phone service. I'm covered.

If you're still considering ringing my doorbell and disturbing my children (who are likely asleep simply because you're ringing the doorbell and knocking very loudly), please understand I will treat you with the utmost respect... outwardly. I will look at all of your brochures, I will ask you many questions, and I will smile when you mention the names of people across the street who are "delighted" about the services you're selling. I will ooh and ahh over the pictures of your children when you become desperate enough to pull those out. Then I will ask the details of the contract or ingredients or assembly process. I will be so enthusiastic that your heart will start to race and you'll be thinking, "I've definitely got this one in the bag." You'll be counting off your commissions with glee.

Then... and ONLY then... will I point at this sign in disgust and tell you to take a hike. Because if you really are arrogant enough to think you're the one salesman in the world whom I will listen to when I have rejected all the others, you deserve to know exactly what it feels like to have somebody wasting your precious time, disturbing the flow of your work and simply annoying you.

Yes, I mean YOU. Do not ring that doorbell. Do not knock loudly on my door.

Turn around. Slouch away.

You can do it.

NO SOLICITING.

Easter Symbolism

I was just talking to my sister about the symbolism behind some of the Easter traditions. She was saying that you need to figure out which things are religious symbols and which things are pre-Christian pagan symbols. For example, some of the cute little websites I looked at said the egg symbolizes Christ's tomb.

Huh? How does an EGG represent a TOMB?

I'm sorry, but that is a stretch. My sister's explanation makes a lot more sense: "It's all about fertility, baby!" The Easter holiday is, in many ways, a SPRINGTIME holiday, which makes symbols of fertility highly appropriate. Since I prefer not to teach my tender, young children about the symbolism of fertility, we'll turn in just slightly and teach about the joy of NEW LIFE.

Easter is, whether you look at it through a religious or secular lens, a celebration of new life. Whether it be the celebration of the cycle of life and all its mysteries, or a celebration of Christ's triumph over death (and the promise of a new life after our time on earth) ... it is a time to celebrate LIFE.

So color your symbols of fertility ... err, eggs. And buy your kids new Sunday clothes (unless you're a tightwad like me). Cook yourself a ham or turkey or tofu burger. Surround yourself with the people you love. Then sit down. Find a quiet moment to look at the beauty of life--your life, the lives of those you love, the flowers that are starting to pop out of the ground, and the landscape that is slowly turning green again. 

If you're like me, you'll probably close your eyes and whisper a brief prayer of thanks. Whether you voice your gratitude or not... feel it. Troubles can wait until Monday. Easter Sunday is about gratitude for the good things of life, and promise of renewal and rejoicing in the future.

Rain, Rain

Storm clouds gather and hover near the earth. The sky darkens and shade deepens. I do not sense the dim. I feel the refreshing wind brush against my cheek and I smile.

As I get in my car and start to drive, blue sky appears and a rainbow cheers my heart. I wonder if the end of the rainbow rests right on my three beautiful children. I can't see where the end of the rainbow is, but I know that literally and symbolically, there is no end to the rainbow. The rainbow is a piece of beauty to be enjoyed from every angle. It doesn't belong to one person or one place. It is relative to who and where you are. I smile again.

I talk for two hours with a friend. As I unburden myself, the skies open and drop their burden downward. I am cleansed with renewed hope, and the earth is cleansed, too.

The storms will pass and I will mourn. They do not bring darkness or discomfort to me. They bring a reminder of the cycles of life. We are lifted. We fall. Life is dark. There are rainbows. And through it all, we can be cleansed and start again, fresh and full of hope.

I look to the heavens and whisper, "Thank you" ... with a smile.

A Celebration of Failure

The proprietors of this blog regret the recent loss of intellectually stimulating content. To compensate for this sad loss, we bring you the following eduational clips from YouTube: