February 27, 2010
Saturday, 8:38 P.M.
Home
So, I was over Carol Ann's house today and she told me she isn't going to continue the chemotherapy. Taking a moment to digest what she said, as tears slowly filled my eyes, I recalled the scare I had faced a couple of years before. I have always been of the mind that I would not put myself through those treatments. She and I had discussed it at the time, discovering we had different views, but she respected my decision and counseled that we wait and see what the future would bring. Obviously, the future for me is still out there and the scare was just that, a scare. Now I sit face to face with my friend as she makes this decision. As the tears receded, I counseled that we wait and see what the future brings. I asked that she speak to the doctor this week, which she has not done, to find out how much time the chemo may buy her and what the quality of that time would be. Once she is armed with that information, I will respect her decision and take it from there, one day at a time.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Shortcut!
February 26, 2010
Friday, 6:33 P.M.
Home
An idealistic couple, back in the 1970’s, my husband and I were very aware of current events and the government’s activities in our private lives. In response to one of these issues, we joined a motorcycle rights organization, though neither of us owned nor rode a motorcycle, to help organize the protest against the establishment of what we considered an unconstitutional law, the forcing of motorcyclists to wear helmets. I was of the opinion that a helmet was a life saver and you were a fool not to wear one, but I would defend to the death your right to be a fool. The organization, NYMRO, New York Motorcycle Rights Organization met regularly to encourage members to write letters to their respective assemblymen and senators, inform the membership of the congressmen’s stands on the issue, develop ideas for flyers and bulletins to be distributed throughout the state, set up peaceful protests, and basically, take advantage of our rights as American citizens to voice our opinions and fight for our Constitutional liberties. We were very active in protests in Albany and even participated in the setup of a very
successful one here on Long Island that attracted thousands of bikers including those from the Blue Angels, a police bike club, to the Pagans, an outlaw bike club and every other kind of biker in between.
In the course of these protests, there was only one car, a car covered in anti helmet law posters. It was a nice green blue Chrysler legally inspected and registered in my husband’s name. In short order, we found that it wasn’t just the members of the protest that took notice of this one individual automobile in a sea of motorcycles.
Friday, 6:33 P.M.
Home
An idealistic couple, back in the 1970’s, my husband and I were very aware of current events and the government’s activities in our private lives. In response to one of these issues, we joined a motorcycle rights organization, though neither of us owned nor rode a motorcycle, to help organize the protest against the establishment of what we considered an unconstitutional law, the forcing of motorcyclists to wear helmets. I was of the opinion that a helmet was a life saver and you were a fool not to wear one, but I would defend to the death your right to be a fool. The organization, NYMRO, New York Motorcycle Rights Organization met regularly to encourage members to write letters to their respective assemblymen and senators, inform the membership of the congressmen’s stands on the issue, develop ideas for flyers and bulletins to be distributed throughout the state, set up peaceful protests, and basically, take advantage of our rights as American citizens to voice our opinions and fight for our Constitutional liberties. We were very active in protests in Albany and even participated in the setup of a very
successful one here on Long Island that attracted thousands of bikers including those from the Blue Angels, a police bike club, to the Pagans, an outlaw bike club and every other kind of biker in between.
In the course of these protests, there was only one car, a car covered in anti helmet law posters. It was a nice green blue Chrysler legally inspected and registered in my husband’s name. In short order, we found that it wasn’t just the members of the protest that took notice of this one individual automobile in a sea of motorcycles.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Come On, Springtime!
February 25, 2010
Thursday, 5:45 P.M.
Home
More grey skies, more wet weather, why did God invent February? Why do the winters get longer and the summers get shorter as I get older? Please hurry up and get here Spring. I am so thirsty for warm, sunny, blue skied days filled with the scent of flowers and fresh cut grass, baseball games with the aroma of hotdogs and peanuts, leafy trees filled with trilling birds, long walks through my neighborhood listening to lawn mowers, smelling barbecues and seeing life renewing itself all around me. I just can't wait more than another five weeks.
Zeitgeist is calling my name tonight. Having watched half of it, I already have three pages, front and back, of notes to research, trying to prove (or disprove) what they are referring to as myth. I'm almost afraid to see the last half, their idea of the truth. Don't misunderstand me. My mind is not closed to what I am seeing in this film, but so far it is a difficult watch. It seems to be attempting to shatter illusions that I have carried around with me for as long as I can remember. As a lapsed Catholic, I have come to my own ideas about organized religion, but I have a strong faith in a greater being, who I choose to call God. I have always had questions surrounding Jesus, but I have believed that at the least, he was a good, kind, compassionate, special, spiritual man who actually existed 2000 years ago. It never occurred to me that he never existed at all! Wouldn't that be a kick in the head?
So I'm headed off now to explore new territory, but as Arnold said, "I'll be back".
Thursday, 5:45 P.M.
Home
More grey skies, more wet weather, why did God invent February? Why do the winters get longer and the summers get shorter as I get older? Please hurry up and get here Spring. I am so thirsty for warm, sunny, blue skied days filled with the scent of flowers and fresh cut grass, baseball games with the aroma of hotdogs and peanuts, leafy trees filled with trilling birds, long walks through my neighborhood listening to lawn mowers, smelling barbecues and seeing life renewing itself all around me. I just can't wait more than another five weeks.
Zeitgeist is calling my name tonight. Having watched half of it, I already have three pages, front and back, of notes to research, trying to prove (or disprove) what they are referring to as myth. I'm almost afraid to see the last half, their idea of the truth. Don't misunderstand me. My mind is not closed to what I am seeing in this film, but so far it is a difficult watch. It seems to be attempting to shatter illusions that I have carried around with me for as long as I can remember. As a lapsed Catholic, I have come to my own ideas about organized religion, but I have a strong faith in a greater being, who I choose to call God. I have always had questions surrounding Jesus, but I have believed that at the least, he was a good, kind, compassionate, special, spiritual man who actually existed 2000 years ago. It never occurred to me that he never existed at all! Wouldn't that be a kick in the head?
So I'm headed off now to explore new territory, but as Arnold said, "I'll be back".
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
High C
February 24, 2010
Wednesday, 7:33 P.M.
Home
For the better part of two years, with a couple of slips here and there, I have been a non-smoker. I smoked for forty two years and tried everything that was recommended to me to aid in quitting. I first tried the patch, useless. I tried the gum, a little better, but not good enough. I sat in a hypnotist's chair and proceeded to find out I can't be hypnotized (had to pay him anyway). I got a prescription for Zyban (now Wellbutrin) and though I was calm, I still wanted to smoke and did. Over and over again, you hear people say that you'll stop when you are ready. Well, what the hell does that mean? I was ready for twenty years, hence, the patch, the gum, the hypnotist, the Zyban!! The trick is, you'll stop when you recognize what it is that is worth stopping for. Not that my kids aren't worth stopping for, I don't mean that. It is that one trigger in your nicotine and tar filled brain that is finally pulled and you have the aha moment. My aha moment was when I couldn't hit the notes on the other end of the musical scale anymore. Not only had I lost the high C's, I had lost the medium A's and B's. Bam! The only reason for that is the damn cigarettes. Bam! Quitting will stop the decline in vocal range. Bam! You might even get back some of what you've lost. Bam! Bam! Bam! Quit, already. Okay, I will. Two years later, my nicotine lozenges and I have conquered the cigarette. A few months ago, I tried to quit the lozenges too, but there came a moment when I was going to buy a pack of cigarettes and I bought the trusty lozenges instead. Will I be dependent on them the rest of my life? Who knows? Do I really care? I'm close to hitting high C again.
Wednesday, 7:33 P.M.
Home
For the better part of two years, with a couple of slips here and there, I have been a non-smoker. I smoked for forty two years and tried everything that was recommended to me to aid in quitting. I first tried the patch, useless. I tried the gum, a little better, but not good enough. I sat in a hypnotist's chair and proceeded to find out I can't be hypnotized (had to pay him anyway). I got a prescription for Zyban (now Wellbutrin) and though I was calm, I still wanted to smoke and did. Over and over again, you hear people say that you'll stop when you are ready. Well, what the hell does that mean? I was ready for twenty years, hence, the patch, the gum, the hypnotist, the Zyban!! The trick is, you'll stop when you recognize what it is that is worth stopping for. Not that my kids aren't worth stopping for, I don't mean that. It is that one trigger in your nicotine and tar filled brain that is finally pulled and you have the aha moment. My aha moment was when I couldn't hit the notes on the other end of the musical scale anymore. Not only had I lost the high C's, I had lost the medium A's and B's. Bam! The only reason for that is the damn cigarettes. Bam! Quitting will stop the decline in vocal range. Bam! You might even get back some of what you've lost. Bam! Bam! Bam! Quit, already. Okay, I will. Two years later, my nicotine lozenges and I have conquered the cigarette. A few months ago, I tried to quit the lozenges too, but there came a moment when I was going to buy a pack of cigarettes and I bought the trusty lozenges instead. Will I be dependent on them the rest of my life? Who knows? Do I really care? I'm close to hitting high C again.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Other Alternative
February 23, 2010
Tuesday, 5:40 P.M.
Home
I just received an e-mail from my per diem boss testing me on algebra! He sent me an accounting example to set up as an equation. How is that for support? I don't know whether to react with, " Are you kidding me?" or "Aren't you thoughtful?" I guess I'll wait to see how easily the solution comes to me.
Taking a shower when I came home from work, I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair when visions of my girlfriend undergoing chemotherapy tomorrow came to me. Things so taken for granted day after day loom so much larger under less ordinary circumstances. I can't imagine losing my hair, having it fall out in clumps until there is nothing left. For someone who considers herself such a compassionate and empathetic person, I am ashamed of myself. I realize how insignificant a head of hair is in relation to extending one's life and still, I shudder at the thought. I am behaving like a self absorbed, spoiled, and shallow bimbo and I don't know how to fix it. If I ever become afflicted with this disease, I am not sure I would put myself through what Carol Ann is facing and what millions of others, including my sister have endured. I'm pretty certain I would take the other alternative.
Tuesday, 5:40 P.M.
Home
I just received an e-mail from my per diem boss testing me on algebra! He sent me an accounting example to set up as an equation. How is that for support? I don't know whether to react with, " Are you kidding me?" or "Aren't you thoughtful?" I guess I'll wait to see how easily the solution comes to me.
Taking a shower when I came home from work, I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair when visions of my girlfriend undergoing chemotherapy tomorrow came to me. Things so taken for granted day after day loom so much larger under less ordinary circumstances. I can't imagine losing my hair, having it fall out in clumps until there is nothing left. For someone who considers herself such a compassionate and empathetic person, I am ashamed of myself. I realize how insignificant a head of hair is in relation to extending one's life and still, I shudder at the thought. I am behaving like a self absorbed, spoiled, and shallow bimbo and I don't know how to fix it. If I ever become afflicted with this disease, I am not sure I would put myself through what Carol Ann is facing and what millions of others, including my sister have endured. I'm pretty certain I would take the other alternative.
Monday, February 22, 2010
A Line or Two
February 22, 2010
Monday, 9:44 P.M.
Home
Won't bore you with the details, but man, this was a long day! Super short entry tonight, I'm just so tired.
Monday, 9:44 P.M.
Home
Won't bore you with the details, but man, this was a long day! Super short entry tonight, I'm just so tired.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Man's Work
February 21, 2010
Sunday, 5:04 P.M.
Home
So, at 4:00 this morning when I awakened and couldn't fall back to sleep, I found myself in front of my computer watching Zeitgeist, The Movie. As I wrote in the notes I was taking, Ouch!! Without giving away too much of my essay, I have to say that if I were a devout Christian, I may have been very upset over part of "the myth". All of this film, to the end of the myth, which is as far as I have gotten, is a very difficult watch. I spent two and a half hours going back and taking copious notes as it went along so that I can do some research on the subject matter. A blindly patriotic person will have some real problems too and both the Christian and the patriot may take offense. It will be interesting to hear the takes of my classmates on this controversial piece.
I returned from my future daughter in law's Bridal Shower a little while ago. You know what? I hate those things, bridal showers, baby showers, tupperware parties, Pampered Chef, candle parties, wood parties, makeup parties, etc., etc.... No matter how hard the hostess tries or how much you care about the celebrant, these things are incredibly boring. I have never been a girly girl kind of woman. I am much more comfortable in the role of a tomboy, prefering siding a house or doing roofing to getting my nails done and worrying about my haircuts. Home Depot is far more of a draw than Macy's or Bath and Body Works. Doing what is traditionally man's stuff is fun! One of the coolest things in life when we were little kids, was getting filthy dirty and when you do man things like working on the car or construction projects or rototilling the ground, you get to be filthy dirty and have the satisfaction of accomplishing something. Yeah, that's what I'd rather do on a Sunday afternoon.
Sunday, 5:04 P.M.
Home
So, at 4:00 this morning when I awakened and couldn't fall back to sleep, I found myself in front of my computer watching Zeitgeist, The Movie. As I wrote in the notes I was taking, Ouch!! Without giving away too much of my essay, I have to say that if I were a devout Christian, I may have been very upset over part of "the myth". All of this film, to the end of the myth, which is as far as I have gotten, is a very difficult watch. I spent two and a half hours going back and taking copious notes as it went along so that I can do some research on the subject matter. A blindly patriotic person will have some real problems too and both the Christian and the patriot may take offense. It will be interesting to hear the takes of my classmates on this controversial piece.
I returned from my future daughter in law's Bridal Shower a little while ago. You know what? I hate those things, bridal showers, baby showers, tupperware parties, Pampered Chef, candle parties, wood parties, makeup parties, etc., etc.... No matter how hard the hostess tries or how much you care about the celebrant, these things are incredibly boring. I have never been a girly girl kind of woman. I am much more comfortable in the role of a tomboy, prefering siding a house or doing roofing to getting my nails done and worrying about my haircuts. Home Depot is far more of a draw than Macy's or Bath and Body Works. Doing what is traditionally man's stuff is fun! One of the coolest things in life when we were little kids, was getting filthy dirty and when you do man things like working on the car or construction projects or rototilling the ground, you get to be filthy dirty and have the satisfaction of accomplishing something. Yeah, that's what I'd rather do on a Sunday afternoon.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Satisfaction
February 20, 2010
Saturday, 5:30 P.M.
Home
What a satisfying day this has been! How often do we get the opportunity to say that? The morning started with a temperature over the freezing mark for the first time since I don't remember when. The sun was shining and the dirty snow was melting. The roads were dry and you can actually see the ground peeking through on the parkways. All in all, a really nice start to the day. This morning's class essay was about our memories of 9/11/01 and I heard some terrific essays read by their authors. At the end of class, we received our marked ghost papers and I got a 100! Not only that, but a very complimentary comment from my professor. Damn, that felt good. As I was packing up to go, one of my classmates approached me to comment on my writing in a glowing way. It is so flattering when someone goes out of their way to say something nice to, and about, you. She helped to make my day. I do have to say, though, that I almost feel guilty taking good grades and kind words for the writings I create because it's almost as if I don't do the writing. There is some kind of deep well within me, a spot so sensitive and fine that seems to send the messages to my fingers as they fly across the paper, coming up with words that spring from my page with a certain emotional bent. I am comfortable with taking credit for the grammar, the spelling, the form and even the edited words, but the concepts are as from a dream and I'm not certain it's fair to call them Dawn's...
From school, I headed to CarolAnn's house, stopping to pick up a nice big cup of 7-11 coffee to get me through the trip and the chores I intended to tackle when I got there. As I took Exit 17S from the Southern State Parkway, the cup tipped, I thought I saved it, then lost my grip and popped off the top spilling my precious brown liquid all over my pants. (Sure was glad I wore the black instead of the light grey I originally planned on!) CarolAnn is not a big coffee drinker and I knew I wouldn't get any there, but oh well, I had faith that I could make it through. Anyway, it was good to see her. The terrific news is that the cancer has NOT spread to her brain, but is confined to the lung and the liver. Monday brings her the implantation of a port and Wednesday starts chemo. We shall see, but anyway, the satisfying stuff is being there for somebody you love and you know loves you. It is often said, that you get what you give, but the truth is, you get so much more than what you give. The words to describe what it is you feel when you give of yourself without a thought for payback or reward, have not yet been written, for there are no words to describe the feeling. It is beyond all else, even sex, and for me, that's really saying something!!!
Saturday, 5:30 P.M.
Home
What a satisfying day this has been! How often do we get the opportunity to say that? The morning started with a temperature over the freezing mark for the first time since I don't remember when. The sun was shining and the dirty snow was melting. The roads were dry and you can actually see the ground peeking through on the parkways. All in all, a really nice start to the day. This morning's class essay was about our memories of 9/11/01 and I heard some terrific essays read by their authors. At the end of class, we received our marked ghost papers and I got a 100! Not only that, but a very complimentary comment from my professor. Damn, that felt good. As I was packing up to go, one of my classmates approached me to comment on my writing in a glowing way. It is so flattering when someone goes out of their way to say something nice to, and about, you. She helped to make my day. I do have to say, though, that I almost feel guilty taking good grades and kind words for the writings I create because it's almost as if I don't do the writing. There is some kind of deep well within me, a spot so sensitive and fine that seems to send the messages to my fingers as they fly across the paper, coming up with words that spring from my page with a certain emotional bent. I am comfortable with taking credit for the grammar, the spelling, the form and even the edited words, but the concepts are as from a dream and I'm not certain it's fair to call them Dawn's...
From school, I headed to CarolAnn's house, stopping to pick up a nice big cup of 7-11 coffee to get me through the trip and the chores I intended to tackle when I got there. As I took Exit 17S from the Southern State Parkway, the cup tipped, I thought I saved it, then lost my grip and popped off the top spilling my precious brown liquid all over my pants. (Sure was glad I wore the black instead of the light grey I originally planned on!) CarolAnn is not a big coffee drinker and I knew I wouldn't get any there, but oh well, I had faith that I could make it through. Anyway, it was good to see her. The terrific news is that the cancer has NOT spread to her brain, but is confined to the lung and the liver. Monday brings her the implantation of a port and Wednesday starts chemo. We shall see, but anyway, the satisfying stuff is being there for somebody you love and you know loves you. It is often said, that you get what you give, but the truth is, you get so much more than what you give. The words to describe what it is you feel when you give of yourself without a thought for payback or reward, have not yet been written, for there are no words to describe the feeling. It is beyond all else, even sex, and for me, that's really saying something!!!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Such a Jumble!
February 19, 2010
Friday, 7:36 P.M.
Home
Has anybody else noticed that the post time on this blog is way off the time that we actually post it? I guess that makes sense if they are based on the west coast, I have my future daughter in law's bridal shower on Sunday, I haven't gotten her a thing and I have no idea what to get her, I am having such a hard time figuring it out that I probably won't get anything until later when I find out what the kids really want,I'm going to make a marvelous mother in law, don't you think?
Why is it that I can't stop my mind from running all over the place all day long and then when I get to the assignment for the blog, my mind goes blank, that's what I am thinking of right this moment, hmmm, let me see, there must be more in there, I should have stopped at the cleaners on the way home from work to pick up my suit, the check from the accountant I do part time bookkeeping work for couldn't be cashed at the bank tonight because he forgot to sign it, I did get gas though, so I don't have to worry about it in the morning before I go to class, I should find out if that girl got her Valentine/Birthday present, was I that way when I was her age, sure hope not, no, I'm sure I wasn't, our circumstances are so different, I shouldn't assume that unless I have walked a mile in her shoes, etc., etc., etc....
Friday, 7:36 P.M.
Home
Has anybody else noticed that the post time on this blog is way off the time that we actually post it? I guess that makes sense if they are based on the west coast, I have my future daughter in law's bridal shower on Sunday, I haven't gotten her a thing and I have no idea what to get her, I am having such a hard time figuring it out that I probably won't get anything until later when I find out what the kids really want,I'm going to make a marvelous mother in law, don't you think?
Why is it that I can't stop my mind from running all over the place all day long and then when I get to the assignment for the blog, my mind goes blank, that's what I am thinking of right this moment, hmmm, let me see, there must be more in there, I should have stopped at the cleaners on the way home from work to pick up my suit, the check from the accountant I do part time bookkeeping work for couldn't be cashed at the bank tonight because he forgot to sign it, I did get gas though, so I don't have to worry about it in the morning before I go to class, I should find out if that girl got her Valentine/Birthday present, was I that way when I was her age, sure hope not, no, I'm sure I wasn't, our circumstances are so different, I shouldn't assume that unless I have walked a mile in her shoes, etc., etc., etc....
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Consternation
February 18, 2010
Thursday, 9:01 P.M.
Home
The show, the First 48 is on my television as I write this. The premise is the first forty eight hours of investigation after a homicide. Interesting, educational, horrifying, sad and senseless. These thoughts have filled my mind every time I hear of a life cut short by somebody else's hand. I would suppose it's a good thing that I am never able to comprehend the mindset of a person who will look into the face of a complete stranger and kill him for whatever reason is suiting his purpose at the time. If you want to rob somebody, well then if you must, rob them, then run away. If something even more deviant is on your mind, take care of your deviant business, but turn away. I don't know how their brains work, if their brains work. How does a person get to a point where he feels comfortable enough to snuff out another life? I can hardly bring myself to snuff a bug, let alone even consider another person! The victim must feel so afraid in those seconds...
I have come to believe that life doesn't end before it's supposed to; be it due to disease, old age, accident, act of God, etc. Therefore, I betray my own self when I shake my head in consternation at man's inhumanity to man. Believing that we are more than just the human form we take here on earth, I am confident in the existence of something far greater, far grander, and far more blissful than anything we experience in this world. Using that rationale, then the victim is given a gift beyond all gifts and the perpetrator of the crime has defeated his own purpose. Yet these situations never rest easily on my mind. I just can't wrap my conciousness around it the way I so easily can with the other causes of the human life ending experience. I guess that's part of the reason my mom named me Dawn and not God.
Thursday, 9:01 P.M.
Home
The show, the First 48 is on my television as I write this. The premise is the first forty eight hours of investigation after a homicide. Interesting, educational, horrifying, sad and senseless. These thoughts have filled my mind every time I hear of a life cut short by somebody else's hand. I would suppose it's a good thing that I am never able to comprehend the mindset of a person who will look into the face of a complete stranger and kill him for whatever reason is suiting his purpose at the time. If you want to rob somebody, well then if you must, rob them, then run away. If something even more deviant is on your mind, take care of your deviant business, but turn away. I don't know how their brains work, if their brains work. How does a person get to a point where he feels comfortable enough to snuff out another life? I can hardly bring myself to snuff a bug, let alone even consider another person! The victim must feel so afraid in those seconds...
I have come to believe that life doesn't end before it's supposed to; be it due to disease, old age, accident, act of God, etc. Therefore, I betray my own self when I shake my head in consternation at man's inhumanity to man. Believing that we are more than just the human form we take here on earth, I am confident in the existence of something far greater, far grander, and far more blissful than anything we experience in this world. Using that rationale, then the victim is given a gift beyond all gifts and the perpetrator of the crime has defeated his own purpose. Yet these situations never rest easily on my mind. I just can't wrap my conciousness around it the way I so easily can with the other causes of the human life ending experience. I guess that's part of the reason my mom named me Dawn and not God.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
This Moment
February 17, 2010
Wednesday, 10:07 P.M.
Home
I am tired and I almost forgot about my blog. So, what's on my mind right this moment is that I have to do all my night time ministrations and I don't feel like it. I heard some more disturbing news today about people I care about and I'm wondering if there is something in the air causing major disruptions in my section of the universe. Of course, it isn't me who is doing the suffering, so what do I have to complain about? I don't know. Sometimes the emotional reactions to other people's difficulties amaze me. I do say to myself, "What's wrong with you, reacting this way, you aren't the one who's going to suffer with this.", yet I feel my own heart breaking with the possibility of losing someone I love. The seeming selfishness of this is an antithesis to the person I aspire to be.
Wednesday, 10:07 P.M.
Home
I am tired and I almost forgot about my blog. So, what's on my mind right this moment is that I have to do all my night time ministrations and I don't feel like it. I heard some more disturbing news today about people I care about and I'm wondering if there is something in the air causing major disruptions in my section of the universe. Of course, it isn't me who is doing the suffering, so what do I have to complain about? I don't know. Sometimes the emotional reactions to other people's difficulties amaze me. I do say to myself, "What's wrong with you, reacting this way, you aren't the one who's going to suffer with this.", yet I feel my own heart breaking with the possibility of losing someone I love. The seeming selfishness of this is an antithesis to the person I aspire to be.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Small Stuff
February 16, 2010
Tuesday, 6:50 P.M.
Home
OK, I have had enough of this winter. If I never see another snowflake for the rest of my life, I certainly won't shed a tear over it. I couldn't believe I had to go out this morning and clear my car AGAIN!! (Grumble, grumble)
I still have my friend and her illness in the forefront of my mind. She faces a brain scan on Friday and I'm sure she is dreading the results. I got off the phone with her a few minutes ago. When I asked her how she is doing, she told me she had a bad day today because she was feeling sorry for herself and couldn't stop crying. She was upset with herself over it, so I reminded her that every once in a while, she has a right to feel sorry for herself. Hell, we all feel sorry for ourselves every now and then for a whole lot less than what she is facing right now. I realize how small and insignificant things like the miserable winter weather and snow really are. The girl at work that I considered a major pain last week pales in her importance in my life this week. The small stuff just doesn't deserve my negative reactions anymore. The more positive I can be about everything around me, the more positive I feel within myself and the better person I can be to anyone who is touched by me. It is awesome how free and happy I feel when I remember to live by this rule. I can't figure, for the life of me, why I allow myself to forget and slip back into the old ways.
Tuesday, 6:50 P.M.
Home
OK, I have had enough of this winter. If I never see another snowflake for the rest of my life, I certainly won't shed a tear over it. I couldn't believe I had to go out this morning and clear my car AGAIN!! (Grumble, grumble)
I still have my friend and her illness in the forefront of my mind. She faces a brain scan on Friday and I'm sure she is dreading the results. I got off the phone with her a few minutes ago. When I asked her how she is doing, she told me she had a bad day today because she was feeling sorry for herself and couldn't stop crying. She was upset with herself over it, so I reminded her that every once in a while, she has a right to feel sorry for herself. Hell, we all feel sorry for ourselves every now and then for a whole lot less than what she is facing right now. I realize how small and insignificant things like the miserable winter weather and snow really are. The girl at work that I considered a major pain last week pales in her importance in my life this week. The small stuff just doesn't deserve my negative reactions anymore. The more positive I can be about everything around me, the more positive I feel within myself and the better person I can be to anyone who is touched by me. It is awesome how free and happy I feel when I remember to live by this rule. I can't figure, for the life of me, why I allow myself to forget and slip back into the old ways.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Sign Here
February 15, 2010
Monday, 7:49 P.M.
Home
Coming to the end of a three day weekend, my mind is filled with thoughts of wishing I didn't have to go back to work in the morning. It's not that I have anything even remotely exciting to do instead, but I guess I'm just getting a little worn out with this employment thing. I keep on wondering what's keeping that knight in shining armor, galloping down the street on his white steed? Isn't he supposed to save me from all this and whisk me off to the castle where I will be treated like a lady, waited on and pampered, fawned over and loved till the end of my days? Instead I am sitting here printing out tax returns, making sure they are complete, attaching 'Sign Here' stickers, and stapling the returns into their very professional looking folders. You know what? Thinking about it, it's not such a bad thing. Employment is helping to keep me in the manner to which I have become accustomed; you know, the one where you get to put a bit of nourishment in your stomach and keep a roof over your head?
Monday, 7:49 P.M.
Home
Coming to the end of a three day weekend, my mind is filled with thoughts of wishing I didn't have to go back to work in the morning. It's not that I have anything even remotely exciting to do instead, but I guess I'm just getting a little worn out with this employment thing. I keep on wondering what's keeping that knight in shining armor, galloping down the street on his white steed? Isn't he supposed to save me from all this and whisk me off to the castle where I will be treated like a lady, waited on and pampered, fawned over and loved till the end of my days? Instead I am sitting here printing out tax returns, making sure they are complete, attaching 'Sign Here' stickers, and stapling the returns into their very professional looking folders. You know what? Thinking about it, it's not such a bad thing. Employment is helping to keep me in the manner to which I have become accustomed; you know, the one where you get to put a bit of nourishment in your stomach and keep a roof over your head?
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Right Now I'm Thinking...
February 14, 2010
Sunday, 11:59 A.M.
Home
Valentine's Day, I wonder if that 22 year old girl got all the car accessories she was expecting. I have my son's Wedding coming up and I'm thinking about the fact that I am getting a professional make-up job done. I did that once before, when I was going to my boyfriend's Senior Prom. My face was probably a whole lot easier to work on back then. Oh well...
I'll be calling Carolann when I'm finished with this entry. I think we'll be making plans for me to go to her house today. Hoping for all the right words, never mind, my mind's ear just heard that it will all just go as it should and I shouldn't dwell on it. We are friends after all, how hard can conversation be?
I love hearing answers in my mind. It really takes the pressure off and it never ceases to amaze me that it exists. I do wonder sometimes if I have become one of those people that answers to the voices telling them to do weird things, but for now, the stuff I hear is leaning on the side of good rather than evil, so I'm not too worried (maybe a little worried, nah, not too worried.)
I did one of my least favorite chores in life, this morning, the laundry at the laundromat. There should be a law that all people own a washer and dryer. What a wonderful world that would be. Then again, thank the powers that be that I can afford the laundromat, have clothes to bring to the laundromat, a car that drives to the laundromat and the health to drive the car that holds the clothes that I can afford to wash at the laundromat. Things can always be so much worse, can't they?
Sunday, 11:59 A.M.
Home
Valentine's Day, I wonder if that 22 year old girl got all the car accessories she was expecting. I have my son's Wedding coming up and I'm thinking about the fact that I am getting a professional make-up job done. I did that once before, when I was going to my boyfriend's Senior Prom. My face was probably a whole lot easier to work on back then. Oh well...
I'll be calling Carolann when I'm finished with this entry. I think we'll be making plans for me to go to her house today. Hoping for all the right words, never mind, my mind's ear just heard that it will all just go as it should and I shouldn't dwell on it. We are friends after all, how hard can conversation be?
I love hearing answers in my mind. It really takes the pressure off and it never ceases to amaze me that it exists. I do wonder sometimes if I have become one of those people that answers to the voices telling them to do weird things, but for now, the stuff I hear is leaning on the side of good rather than evil, so I'm not too worried (maybe a little worried, nah, not too worried.)
I did one of my least favorite chores in life, this morning, the laundry at the laundromat. There should be a law that all people own a washer and dryer. What a wonderful world that would be. Then again, thank the powers that be that I can afford the laundromat, have clothes to bring to the laundromat, a car that drives to the laundromat and the health to drive the car that holds the clothes that I can afford to wash at the laundromat. Things can always be so much worse, can't they?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The Friend She Needs
February 13, 2010
Saturday, 5:10 P.M.
Home
Right now, at this moment, Stage IV lung cancer is on my mind. I just finished reading about the disease and the stage IV implications of it and I am sick at heart.
True friends in my life have been few and far between for a number of reasons, some of them, through my fault. Over the last ten years, thougjh, there have been two who know the real me. They know the woman who projects to the rest of the world is not the whole person. They have seen me at my weakest, at my most hopeless, and they have stood by my side anyway. They have seen me at my bitchiest and they've seen me at my best and they still love me and consider me a friend. Better yet, to their credit, they are my friends. They love and accept me with all my faults and imperfections.
Now one of them is very, very sick. She has stage IV lung cancer that has metasticized to her liver. Next week she will undergo a brain scan to see if it has attacked that part of her body. Chemotherapy is scheduled to start very shortly after that. Carolann is a unique girl. I have never known anyone quite like her.This is not to say she is perfect. She and I disagree on hosts of things political, social and otherwise, but I love her. Our differences have caused words between us and minor separations, but we have always found our ways back to each other. I've come to realize that's a large part of what friendship is all about; being able to find your way back. But, what will I do now? I am searching for the right words, the right actions, the truest formula for behaving as her friend. I want her to know she is not alone on any step of this journey, neither figuratively or literally. Someone will stand beside her as a leaning post, behind her to catch her if she falls, in front of her as a barrier to attack. I want for her whatever it is she wants and I pray to be the friend to her that she needs at the moment she needs it. God, hang with us.
Saturday, 5:10 P.M.
Home
Right now, at this moment, Stage IV lung cancer is on my mind. I just finished reading about the disease and the stage IV implications of it and I am sick at heart.
True friends in my life have been few and far between for a number of reasons, some of them, through my fault. Over the last ten years, thougjh, there have been two who know the real me. They know the woman who projects to the rest of the world is not the whole person. They have seen me at my weakest, at my most hopeless, and they have stood by my side anyway. They have seen me at my bitchiest and they've seen me at my best and they still love me and consider me a friend. Better yet, to their credit, they are my friends. They love and accept me with all my faults and imperfections.
Now one of them is very, very sick. She has stage IV lung cancer that has metasticized to her liver. Next week she will undergo a brain scan to see if it has attacked that part of her body. Chemotherapy is scheduled to start very shortly after that. Carolann is a unique girl. I have never known anyone quite like her.This is not to say she is perfect. She and I disagree on hosts of things political, social and otherwise, but I love her. Our differences have caused words between us and minor separations, but we have always found our ways back to each other. I've come to realize that's a large part of what friendship is all about; being able to find your way back. But, what will I do now? I am searching for the right words, the right actions, the truest formula for behaving as her friend. I want her to know she is not alone on any step of this journey, neither figuratively or literally. Someone will stand beside her as a leaning post, behind her to catch her if she falls, in front of her as a barrier to attack. I want for her whatever it is she wants and I pray to be the friend to her that she needs at the moment she needs it. God, hang with us.
What a Relief!!
February 13, 2010
2:21 P.M.
Home
I received a reprieve for missing my blogging this week. I can't tell you how relieved I feel. This one is brief, simply because I wanted at least something to appear in place of what I missed, but I will be back before the day is out...
2:21 P.M.
Home
I received a reprieve for missing my blogging this week. I can't tell you how relieved I feel. This one is brief, simply because I wanted at least something to appear in place of what I missed, but I will be back before the day is out...
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Missed One
February 10, 2010
3:25 P.M.
Coram, NY
Well, I missed one. I drove out to my son's house last night to see my grandson perform in his show, (which was great) and by the time we got back, the family was heading for their respective beds and sleep. Unfortunately for me, the computer is in the master bedroom and that ruled out my accessibility. I'm going to check with our professor this weekend and see if that could be counted as an absence. I hate to think I lost a high mark because I missed one blog day.
As I mentioned, I saw a wonderful rendition of Guys and Dolls last night. There were some lovely vocal performances, some cute shticky comedy, and some surprisingly good acting. It's interesting to watch people who are really into what they are doing on a stage. It is almost like they were born on it, as if it is where they live every day of their lives. There is no obvious nervousness like the tremor in a voice or the shaking of a hand. They move and dance and sing and speak every line as if they are the person they play, if only for an hour. Obviously, that's what separates the great from the good and the good from the mediocre.
I spent part of the morning outside shoveling with my grandchildren. I hate the snow, but something about those moments spent with them makes the day finer somehow. They don't know how much I enjoyed that time, all of us grunting and groaning as the plow came by and recovered the driveway we has just cleared, and if I tried to tell them, it may possibly destroy the perfection of the moments. They are in their teens, now, so a lot of what I express to them is taken with that adolescent attitude of "yeah, okay, shut up now, Grandma". I knew I was getting old when I understood the concept of youth being wasted on the young. I wish I had listened a little more and shared a little more time with my older loved ones when I had the chance. I wish I could remember the times they told me they loved me or were proud of me. I wish it had meant as much to me then as it would now...
3:25 P.M.
Coram, NY
Well, I missed one. I drove out to my son's house last night to see my grandson perform in his show, (which was great) and by the time we got back, the family was heading for their respective beds and sleep. Unfortunately for me, the computer is in the master bedroom and that ruled out my accessibility. I'm going to check with our professor this weekend and see if that could be counted as an absence. I hate to think I lost a high mark because I missed one blog day.
As I mentioned, I saw a wonderful rendition of Guys and Dolls last night. There were some lovely vocal performances, some cute shticky comedy, and some surprisingly good acting. It's interesting to watch people who are really into what they are doing on a stage. It is almost like they were born on it, as if it is where they live every day of their lives. There is no obvious nervousness like the tremor in a voice or the shaking of a hand. They move and dance and sing and speak every line as if they are the person they play, if only for an hour. Obviously, that's what separates the great from the good and the good from the mediocre.
I spent part of the morning outside shoveling with my grandchildren. I hate the snow, but something about those moments spent with them makes the day finer somehow. They don't know how much I enjoyed that time, all of us grunting and groaning as the plow came by and recovered the driveway we has just cleared, and if I tried to tell them, it may possibly destroy the perfection of the moments. They are in their teens, now, so a lot of what I express to them is taken with that adolescent attitude of "yeah, okay, shut up now, Grandma". I knew I was getting old when I understood the concept of youth being wasted on the young. I wish I had listened a little more and shared a little more time with my older loved ones when I had the chance. I wish I could remember the times they told me they loved me or were proud of me. I wish it had meant as much to me then as it would now...
Monday, February 8, 2010
Elementary
February 8, 2010
8:26 P.M.
Home
I blame myself. It's all my own fault that I am taking this algebra class. I could kick myself for not trying just a little bit harder on that CPT. I sat in a classroom tonight, incredulous at the questions being asked of our professor. I was in a room full of young people who didn't have the slightest concept of multiplication of decimals or long division. These were subjects covered in elementary school, for crying out loud! We spent fifteen minutes working out a problem that a ten year old of forty years ago would have known the answer to just by looking at it. Technology is a good thing. It has aided the world in making strides in every facet of life, but sitting there tonight, I cursed the calculator and every parent and/or teacher that allowed a child to use one before they ever learned the basic, all important concepts of mathematics.
8:26 P.M.
Home
I blame myself. It's all my own fault that I am taking this algebra class. I could kick myself for not trying just a little bit harder on that CPT. I sat in a classroom tonight, incredulous at the questions being asked of our professor. I was in a room full of young people who didn't have the slightest concept of multiplication of decimals or long division. These were subjects covered in elementary school, for crying out loud! We spent fifteen minutes working out a problem that a ten year old of forty years ago would have known the answer to just by looking at it. Technology is a good thing. It has aided the world in making strides in every facet of life, but sitting there tonight, I cursed the calculator and every parent and/or teacher that allowed a child to use one before they ever learned the basic, all important concepts of mathematics.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Cabin Fever
February 7, 2010
4:12 P.M.
Home
When I checked my e-mail this morning, I was a little relieved to find a message from my missing professor. Thankfully, she and her family are well. Apparently, there was an accident on her way into class yesterday that held her up for more than forty five minutes. She said when she got to the classroom, noone was there. I wonder if she expected we would be.
You know what? I can think of nothing to say here today. I'm not having one of my better days, so I'm out of here till tomorrow.
4:12 P.M.
Home
When I checked my e-mail this morning, I was a little relieved to find a message from my missing professor. Thankfully, she and her family are well. Apparently, there was an accident on her way into class yesterday that held her up for more than forty five minutes. She said when she got to the classroom, noone was there. I wonder if she expected we would be.
You know what? I can think of nothing to say here today. I'm not having one of my better days, so I'm out of here till tomorrow.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Where Is Professor .......?
February 6, 2010
1:54 P.M.
Home
Saturday mornings are English 101 mornings, so after I woke and crawled out from under the warm covers, I flipped on my coffee maker, then turned on the computer to check my e-mail Normally, that isn't my first order of business on a Saturday morning, but as I mentioned, Saturday is English 101 day, so it was important to be aware of the possibility that the class may have been cancelled due to the forecasted snow. Certainly, if for some reason, the professor was not going to make the trip to SCCC, she would e-mail her class and let them know before they headed out into the nasty, bitterly cold, windy, damp, snow flurrying day. Nope, no such e-mail, so I continue with my morning ministrations, go out to warm up the car, fill my thermal coffee cup, bundle myself up, grab my books, phone, keys, said coffee cup and head for my English 101 class, which, as I said, is on Saturday mornings. The weather is nasty and the traffic on the way to class is, thankfully, not bad at all. I pull into the parking lot, offhandedly noticing that it is filling up pretty well. It's 8:45 A.M. and classes will start in about 15 minutes. Entering Room 119, I hear a couple of people discussing one of our assignments and from their comments, I recognized some of my own thoughts and entered the conversation with " You must be talking about the blog". Some of us are not having as easy a time as others with this project and there was some continued discussion about it as more students came into the classroom. Eventually the conversation turned to the passing of the time. It was slightly passed nine o'clock when we began to figure that the professor had gotten hung up in traffic or something. None of my fellow students had received any e-mails or phone calls that would indicate a change in plans. Because Saturday mornings are English 101 mornings, we were all there waiting on the appearance of our professor. By 9:15, the possibility that she may not be coming became a little more real, but the class acknowledged her patience of the week before with latecomers and continued to wait. Eventually, patience and understanding began to turn to annoyance as the minutes continued to tick by. We were all where we were supposed to be on Saturday mornings at
9: 00. We were sitting in Room 119 expecting to participate in a rousing presentation of an English 101 class, led by our inimitable professor. We were disappointed, in that she never showed. By 9:40, we all agreed it was time to leave and by 9:45, I am reasonably certain everyone was gone. I am hoping our professor and her family are not experiencing any difficulties, that everything is right in her world. I e-mailed her with my concern and my assignment when I got home this morning. I have asked her for direction in the course of study for this week. I reserve my response to this morning's non-event until I hear that all is well for her. Then, maybe, I'll have another subject to blog about.
1:54 P.M.
Home
Saturday mornings are English 101 mornings, so after I woke and crawled out from under the warm covers, I flipped on my coffee maker, then turned on the computer to check my e-mail Normally, that isn't my first order of business on a Saturday morning, but as I mentioned, Saturday is English 101 day, so it was important to be aware of the possibility that the class may have been cancelled due to the forecasted snow. Certainly, if for some reason, the professor was not going to make the trip to SCCC, she would e-mail her class and let them know before they headed out into the nasty, bitterly cold, windy, damp, snow flurrying day. Nope, no such e-mail, so I continue with my morning ministrations, go out to warm up the car, fill my thermal coffee cup, bundle myself up, grab my books, phone, keys, said coffee cup and head for my English 101 class, which, as I said, is on Saturday mornings. The weather is nasty and the traffic on the way to class is, thankfully, not bad at all. I pull into the parking lot, offhandedly noticing that it is filling up pretty well. It's 8:45 A.M. and classes will start in about 15 minutes. Entering Room 119, I hear a couple of people discussing one of our assignments and from their comments, I recognized some of my own thoughts and entered the conversation with " You must be talking about the blog". Some of us are not having as easy a time as others with this project and there was some continued discussion about it as more students came into the classroom. Eventually the conversation turned to the passing of the time. It was slightly passed nine o'clock when we began to figure that the professor had gotten hung up in traffic or something. None of my fellow students had received any e-mails or phone calls that would indicate a change in plans. Because Saturday mornings are English 101 mornings, we were all there waiting on the appearance of our professor. By 9:15, the possibility that she may not be coming became a little more real, but the class acknowledged her patience of the week before with latecomers and continued to wait. Eventually, patience and understanding began to turn to annoyance as the minutes continued to tick by. We were all where we were supposed to be on Saturday mornings at
9: 00. We were sitting in Room 119 expecting to participate in a rousing presentation of an English 101 class, led by our inimitable professor. We were disappointed, in that she never showed. By 9:40, we all agreed it was time to leave and by 9:45, I am reasonably certain everyone was gone. I am hoping our professor and her family are not experiencing any difficulties, that everything is right in her world. I e-mailed her with my concern and my assignment when I got home this morning. I have asked her for direction in the course of study for this week. I reserve my response to this morning's non-event until I hear that all is well for her. Then, maybe, I'll have another subject to blog about.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Icey Beauty
February 5, 2010
6:01 P.M.
Home
A very good friend of mine is a pianist on cruise ships. Ovet the past two years, he has had the opportunity to travel the globe, from Iceland and Greenland, to Europe, to Asia, to Australia, and currently, South America and Antarctica. He told me last week that of all the places he has been to, he considers Antarctica the most beautiful. I was extremely surprised to hear that!, Of course, he isn't a beachy kind of guy, so the sandy shores of all those countries don't really appeal to him, but jeez, Antarctica? I have seen pictures and thought it had a certain white, icey kind of beauty. I have certainly never been tempted to visit. My friend e-mailed some photos of the place to me today. You know what? It still appears to have that white, icey kind of beauty. My favorite places are filled with color; aqua waters, pink sand, azure skies, red orange sunsets, multi-colored sails, blue steel bridges, that kind of thing. I'm happy for him that he has now seen Antarctica a couple of times, but I envy him the beaches of Rio de Janeiro!!
6:01 P.M.
Home
A very good friend of mine is a pianist on cruise ships. Ovet the past two years, he has had the opportunity to travel the globe, from Iceland and Greenland, to Europe, to Asia, to Australia, and currently, South America and Antarctica. He told me last week that of all the places he has been to, he considers Antarctica the most beautiful. I was extremely surprised to hear that!, Of course, he isn't a beachy kind of guy, so the sandy shores of all those countries don't really appeal to him, but jeez, Antarctica? I have seen pictures and thought it had a certain white, icey kind of beauty. I have certainly never been tempted to visit. My friend e-mailed some photos of the place to me today. You know what? It still appears to have that white, icey kind of beauty. My favorite places are filled with color; aqua waters, pink sand, azure skies, red orange sunsets, multi-colored sails, blue steel bridges, that kind of thing. I'm happy for him that he has now seen Antarctica a couple of times, but I envy him the beaches of Rio de Janeiro!!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Boring, Boring, Boring
February 4, 2010
7:02 P.M.
Home
Interesting; what my writing in this blog is not. I was reading a little bit from our textbook, "50 Essays A Portable Anthology" and in The Writing Process, it suggests that we "take advantage of the times when you have to write informally-in class, in journals, online." It notes that every writer feels some sort of nervousness when they are faced with demanding assignments. The inference is that the informal writing is less taxing. Well, this author is not sitting in my chair. I am amazed at the difficulty I am finding making entries in this blog every night. I am a jack of all trades and master of none, therefore, the amount of writing I would produce on any given subject may fill a page or so, not exactly the stuff that produces a great blog. I do have opinions, but I am not comfortable using this particular site for sociopolitical commentary. I am a mom, but writing about it would be the equivalent of pulling out your photos at a dinner party. I have had some difficult experiences, but I can't imagine making whining riveting reading. Fortunately, my difficulty in finding something to blog on fueled my homework for this evening. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, the snow?
7:02 P.M.
Home
Interesting; what my writing in this blog is not. I was reading a little bit from our textbook, "50 Essays A Portable Anthology" and in The Writing Process, it suggests that we "take advantage of the times when you have to write informally-in class, in journals, online." It notes that every writer feels some sort of nervousness when they are faced with demanding assignments. The inference is that the informal writing is less taxing. Well, this author is not sitting in my chair. I am amazed at the difficulty I am finding making entries in this blog every night. I am a jack of all trades and master of none, therefore, the amount of writing I would produce on any given subject may fill a page or so, not exactly the stuff that produces a great blog. I do have opinions, but I am not comfortable using this particular site for sociopolitical commentary. I am a mom, but writing about it would be the equivalent of pulling out your photos at a dinner party. I have had some difficult experiences, but I can't imagine making whining riveting reading. Fortunately, my difficulty in finding something to blog on fueled my homework for this evening. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, the snow?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
So much to do, so little time...
February 3, 2010
6:37 P.M.
Home
Thought I had a few minutes, thought wrong, but I'll be back!
9:00 P.M.
I have returned. I do a little accounting work from home, assisting a C.P.A.. It's tax time and the work is coming in by the bushel! Believe me when I say I'm not complaining. The only issue for me right now is learning to budget my time well enough to excel in all the facets of my life. In a couple of weeks, I'm sure they will all become a very comfortable routine, but in the meantime, yikes!
As a college coed, it won't surprise you to hear that I have three grandchildren. (Pun intended) One of them, my older grandson, Scott , is starring in a junior high school production of Guys and Dolls this weekend. He has the part Frank Sinatra played in the movie. Last year, he surprised me by appearing in his first stage production, Oklahoma. I went to see the show with the same trepidation I go to all my grandchildren's concerts and/or recitals. These are never things you walk out of saying, "My God, that was great! I wish they were booked for another six months so I could see it again and again!! Once is really quite, if not more than, enough. Every once in a while , though, you find a jewel. Scott played the father of Ado Annie and had a major song and dance part. Wow! He looked, acted, sang and danced as though he were born to the stage. I was popping my Grandma buttons! (Of course, the fact that the only other member of his family that has performed in local theater is writing this piece has nothing to do with the popping buttons...) Sincerely, though, he was terrific. So I'm really looking forward, actually looking forward to this Friday night when he opens as Nathan Detroit. I'm sure he'll be great and I'll wish they were booked for another six months so I could go see it again and again!!
6:37 P.M.
Home
Thought I had a few minutes, thought wrong, but I'll be back!
9:00 P.M.
I have returned. I do a little accounting work from home, assisting a C.P.A.. It's tax time and the work is coming in by the bushel! Believe me when I say I'm not complaining. The only issue for me right now is learning to budget my time well enough to excel in all the facets of my life. In a couple of weeks, I'm sure they will all become a very comfortable routine, but in the meantime, yikes!
As a college coed, it won't surprise you to hear that I have three grandchildren. (Pun intended) One of them, my older grandson, Scott , is starring in a junior high school production of Guys and Dolls this weekend. He has the part Frank Sinatra played in the movie. Last year, he surprised me by appearing in his first stage production, Oklahoma. I went to see the show with the same trepidation I go to all my grandchildren's concerts and/or recitals. These are never things you walk out of saying, "My God, that was great! I wish they were booked for another six months so I could see it again and again!! Once is really quite, if not more than, enough. Every once in a while , though, you find a jewel. Scott played the father of Ado Annie and had a major song and dance part. Wow! He looked, acted, sang and danced as though he were born to the stage. I was popping my Grandma buttons! (Of course, the fact that the only other member of his family that has performed in local theater is writing this piece has nothing to do with the popping buttons...) Sincerely, though, he was terrific. So I'm really looking forward, actually looking forward to this Friday night when he opens as Nathan Detroit. I'm sure he'll be great and I'll wish they were booked for another six months so I could go see it again and again!!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Comfort Zone?
February 2, 2010
5:28 P.M.
Home
When I take a pen in my hand and put it to the paper, the words seem to write themselves. I hardly have to think about what I am writing. All my thoughts seem to flow through my fingers into the pen flying across the page. Not so with this blog thing. I can't seem to find the flow, a comfort zone that allows me to be myself in the writing. There isn't enough privacy in it for me. I, so far, am only experienced in writing from my own life experience. Doing that provides glimpses into me that I am not eager to expose to the cyber world. I am considering taking a whole different direction in the upcoming days or weeks, but until I learn a little more about developing ideas in writing, I will continue to muddle through. How boring is this? Pretty gosh darn boring.
I must say it's surprising how quickly ten minutes goes when you are struggling to find something to say...
5:28 P.M.
Home
When I take a pen in my hand and put it to the paper, the words seem to write themselves. I hardly have to think about what I am writing. All my thoughts seem to flow through my fingers into the pen flying across the page. Not so with this blog thing. I can't seem to find the flow, a comfort zone that allows me to be myself in the writing. There isn't enough privacy in it for me. I, so far, am only experienced in writing from my own life experience. Doing that provides glimpses into me that I am not eager to expose to the cyber world. I am considering taking a whole different direction in the upcoming days or weeks, but until I learn a little more about developing ideas in writing, I will continue to muddle through. How boring is this? Pretty gosh darn boring.
I must say it's surprising how quickly ten minutes goes when you are struggling to find something to say...
Monday, February 1, 2010
Class II
February 1, 2010
6:34 P.M.
Home
After taking the CPT evaluation, it was apparent that I have forgotten just about everything I had learned in high school algebra. Thus, rememdial algebra. I'm kind of excited about it though. I love math, have a pretty good head for figures, and enjoy solving logic problems in puzzle books. I equate these to learning algebra. Due to circumstances beyond my control during my high school years, my attendance left a lot to be desired. I found myself always playing catch-up with my algebra class; not a good way to excel in that course. I did pass it, but not well enough to satisfy my own notion of how well I could have and would have done if life was normal. Now I have the chance to prove it to myself and feel up for the challenge.
Attending my first class, tonight, hasn't waned my enthusiasm. I am the oldest student in the room. When I first signed up to earn a degree (in Accounting), I wondered if the age thing would make me uncomfortable. Quite the contrary, though. Age has made little things like that insignificant. I am doing something I have waited a lifetime to do and a few wrinkles will not be allowed to mar the thrill of this experience!
6:34 P.M.
Home
After taking the CPT evaluation, it was apparent that I have forgotten just about everything I had learned in high school algebra. Thus, rememdial algebra. I'm kind of excited about it though. I love math, have a pretty good head for figures, and enjoy solving logic problems in puzzle books. I equate these to learning algebra. Due to circumstances beyond my control during my high school years, my attendance left a lot to be desired. I found myself always playing catch-up with my algebra class; not a good way to excel in that course. I did pass it, but not well enough to satisfy my own notion of how well I could have and would have done if life was normal. Now I have the chance to prove it to myself and feel up for the challenge.
Attending my first class, tonight, hasn't waned my enthusiasm. I am the oldest student in the room. When I first signed up to earn a degree (in Accounting), I wondered if the age thing would make me uncomfortable. Quite the contrary, though. Age has made little things like that insignificant. I am doing something I have waited a lifetime to do and a few wrinkles will not be allowed to mar the thrill of this experience!
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