I Am This Woman

(6 of 50)

I wish I could wrap up a present tonight for my friend JjFf. A scary day with many tests and medical mysteries and carelessly gawking interested medical technicians.

I wish I could wrap up the biggest stuffed rabbit ever, and send it to her. A rabbit that is about six feet tall and squashy and silky, stuffed with lavender buds and buckwheat hulls, with a sheaf of good wishes from all her friends, visible and invisible. A huge body pillow bunny that she could tuck behind her back on one side as she wrapped her arms around her husband and children on the other, so she could just feel completely loved.

And completely healed from this annoying, worrying and mystifying thing that is ailing her.

All my best love to you, tonight, JjFf. When I find that website where I can order Complete and Palpable Health, I will bookmark it for the both of us.

And the bunny? His name is Jack, but you can name him or her anything you want. S/he is one terrific rabbit!

(5 of 50)

This video (20 min.) is a fascinating look at so many things: creativity, world economy, myth, intelligence and the need to change our thinking. The connections between world health and world wealth are graphically illustrated by Dr. Hans Rosling, a Swedish researcher and innovator. Not only is he a role model, but I am going to look at this video again because I got so many ideas from it - ideas for myself, for how I want to contribute to the world, and what I want to teach my son.

(4 of 50)

I have a total aversion to voice mail announcements. And this issue seems to be escalating in the roster of Annoying Things. Is there anyone who doesn’t know to wait for the beep?

When I get someone’s voice mail announcement, unless they have a habit of changing it to reflect some information I might need, I start pressing 1 or # or 0 at the very first opportunity. “Please listen to the menu as it has changed.” No, sorry. That part never changes!

THE.MOST.ANNOYING.voice mail menu ever is for Virgin Mobile. I had one for a brief time and “top-ups” had to be done by phone… the MUSIC! AUGHHHHHHHH! the hipster chicky-poo voice! AUGHHHHHHHHHH! They had voice recognition… so you COULD NOT press buttons. You had to SAY “TOP UP.” And you had to say it as though you were the coolest, poshiest of the Posh Spice Fangirls. I believe they hadn’t reckoned on the Texas accent when angered. So I got a lot of “Sorry, didn’t catch that. If you’d like to top up, say TOP UP.” I said a lot of things that rhyme with shuck off. (more…)

(3 of 50)

I just need a small space here to grieve publically over something that has been lost to me. I thought I would get over it by now, but I haven’t. Writing might help.

Starting just after I separated from my husband, I started making a patchwork quilt for my son. I hoped to have it done for his 10th birthday. Time being what it is and all, it was shortly before his 11th bday I finally got the top and back done. Then I got a bat and pin basted the whole thing. About that time, my dad and brother had died, and I lost momentum. I was starting to pack up for a move, and lamented the quilt to some friends.

One of them made me an offer, which was most gracious. A quilter owed her a favor, and so she would just take care of the quilting. It involved sending the box across the country, and that was one of my Things To Do in the rush to pack and move.

Hoping to give it to my son for his 12th birthday, I aniticipated getting the quilt for Christmas, just after? in time for birthday? but was told that it wasn’t quite ready. So, patiently I wait. Finally, “it’s in the mail”! YAY! I make arrangements for someone to watch for its delivery while I was out of town….

No quilt. No box. No nothing. No word.

I inquire. The PO lost it? That’s all I have heard. Not sure if there was insurance or delivery confirmation. There are no good answers, no answers really. This entry is not to say anything about my friend – but to simply mourn this loss. And I’m heartbroken. All the love and energy I put into that… all the memories in the fabrics I used. Perhaps it is my fault that I loaded it up with too much memory. I am having a hard time getting over losing the thing. I have a fairly detailed tactile and sensory memory, and I can feel the fabric in my fingers still…

There are a few leftover squares, and I’m going to locate those today, and start over on something for him. Maybe that will help - replace the thing, transfer the love to a new thing. Maybe I have enough for a body pillow cover. My son understands the loss, but I think it is a greater loss for me than for him. That’s a good thing.

Here is the Flickr set for the quilt, perdu.

(2 of 50)

I started thinking about asking the other day, when I realized that I hadn’t gone to work out in nearly a week. I’m not motivated. Even though I get there and within 15 minutes, I’m feeling strong and confident, and all Zen and just one rep at a time about it.

NOT motivated. How does one get motivated? There is no motivation to get motivated. One is already not motivated!

The still small (nagging) voice in my head said, “Ask the fitness director at the Y. Talk to her and say, ‘I’m unmotivated to work out.’” Within the computerized system for keeping track of our machine workouts, there is a button: Send A Message To The Instructor! The pre-fab message was “I have a question.” By just touching the screen, I sent the message and am waiting to hear. I’m not motivated enough to call her. (It may not work as I haven’t heard from her. Or oh no! maybe she’s nmotivated to get in touch!)

So now, I’m going to have to get serious about this, and I’m far too savvy to my own tricks. But I’ll try my favorite answer to questions like Baseball Player’s “why?” (See this entry.)

When asked “why” by a young person, my answer is often “I wonder!” said with just a touch of mystery and appreciation. It works with kids, sullenteens, crabby sleep-deprived college students and defensive continuing-ed adult students. It doesn’t work with all questions. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and there’s a simple answer to “What page are we on?” “What time is it?” Some do not respond well to the perceived-as-sarcastic “I wonder!”

But when said with sincerity and inquisitiveness, it opens up the possibilities, it challenges the brain to search, it kicks one over into creative mode.

Not motivated to work out? I wonder why? Hmmm. Perhaps I should find out. The Y fitness director might have an answer. I even have her email. I am motivated to switch to another window right now and send her a message.

I wonder what it will feel like to have already worked out. I wonder if I can sleep late tomorrow if I work out to alleviate back pain today. I wonder if I’ll come up with interesting blog topics while I’m on the elliptical. Hmmm, it might just be working.

I’ll see you at the Y. Maybe.

(1 of 50)

I am still learning how to ask. It’s a very simple lesson. Perhaps such a nuanced one that it requires teaching over a long period of time.

After years of teaching English to first and second-year college students, I still found it amazing that none of them really knew how to ask a question. We spent at least two weeks on Inquiry, which is learning how to ask a question so that the answer will elicit a response that is likely to be useful, helpful, detailed. I had students who not only didn’t know how to ask, but they did not really feel comfortable with the Yellow Pages, the dictionary or a directory of any kind. Little did I realize in early 1990s that the Yellow Pages would soon be replaced by Google, and the method of inquiry was not how good you are with subject headings, but your ability to string together search terms in a little box. (Not knocking that at all, and this soon became part of the curriculum.)

Are we all TALK TALK TALK and very little ask? not enough inquiry? (more…)

In the interest of fairness, I will report the outcome of my dispute with eHarmony, as mentioned in this entry.

1. They refunded 2 of the 3 fraudulent charges on my credit card. They claimed, in their wrap-up email, that “the auto renewal charge you are disputing occurred within our terms and conditions.” Which means, I suppose, that they are doing me the favor of saving my time and energy in further disputes. I do have documentation that substantiates my claim for refund of three months’ charges, made to my card AFTER my initial subscription expired AND I followed their procedure to DISABLE AUTO RENEW on my account. However, at this point, two months’ refund is what I get for the trouble of two phone calls (one very angry, one not so) and filling out a form and faxing it.

2. I’m done.

If anyone surfs in here having searched “eHarmony scam” or eHarmony customer complaint or (what other keywords can I load in here), my best advice is DO NOT SIGN UP WITH EHARMONY. Period.

Always with great intentions for writing posts, I think about my blog all the time. I eat at a restaurant and see an interesting/funny table. “I’ll blog that!” Then I forget.

When driving along, I see a bumper sticker or hear a song, and a confluence of ideas takes place. I think, “ah, that would be good to work out in a blog entry! I’ll do that when I get home.” Then I forget.

I have little notebooks in my purse. In the car. I have lots of pens. I like to shop for pens and notebooks. I browse websites with writing tools, writing books and writing advice. And yet, I can go for a month without posting in my blog.

Time to wake up. In fact, I am approaching a milestone birthday, and I have an idea. I may regret this in a few days, but here is the plan for waking up my creative spirit, for invoking the Muse(s) and beginning (continuing) my writing life.

“Fifty to Fifty” is the title I made up in the car. I toyed with “50 2 50″ or “Fifty2Fifty” or 50250 or “Fifty to 50″… but the gist is that I propose to write an entry a day, for the fifty days leading up to my 50th birthday. Which is June 15. That means I start on April 26, but since I plan to celebrate June 15 in a special way and may not be near a keyboard, I will start on April 25. Yes. That is my plan.

Since coming up with this creative inspiration, I have been listing (in my head) a number of topics. Will I have a subtheme? an agenda? I don’t know. All I know is that despite the arbitrary nature of the calendar and time, my brain and psyche somehow KNOWS about these birthdays. My 40th was fantastic. My online friends made that day amazing for me. And now I want to give back.

My 50th birthday will not be the big media event as was Oprah’s. I hope my hair looks good, but honestly I just want meet it however it comes. In haste, in abandon, in justice, in peace, in consternation, in revelry (or Ravelry!), in ceremony, in joy, in Austin.

I confess that I contemplated lying. Yes, 50 is a good year to start lying about my age, I thought. I rehearsed all the birthdates and age differences I’d have to adjust. I’d have to lie on a daily, cellular basis. I’d also have to forget stuff, like JFK’s assassination. Jim Fowler’s appearances on The Tonight Show. I’d have to get serious about plastic surgery.

No thanks. I’d rather redefine 50 for myself, for readers, for friends who are not yet there. So, just buckle in and play along, friends. It’s going to be a fun ride. 50 is the new 50.