This is important….be very careful what you say that you will NEVER do because the more conviction with which you say it, the more likely it is that you will do it. At least that has been my experience and the experience of many of my friends.
We used to drive by this area in Columbus and say “I’d never live here with all this traffic.” Then we decide to move to a better school district, and low and behold we end up moving to that very place. This has happened to me twice with houses and countless other things, the latest being Botox.
I swore I would NEVER get Botox. I thought my friends that did it, didn’t even need it. Then came my obsession with my Cyclops-like droopy eye. I sought the advice of a plastic surgeon about a minimally invasive procedure called a “Thread Lift,” but the procedure has been taken off the market.
While in his office, I decide to schedule an appointment to get rid of some broken blood vessels that are becoming harder and harder to cover with makeup. I make an appointment for the following day to get them “zapped.” Okay, am I retarded? (That was a rhetorical question.) It never occurred to me that it would hurt.
They numbed my face with an ice cube, (I’m not kidding) an ice cube in between zaps. The first laser felt like small electrical shocks, kind of “owie,” and the second laser felt like hot needles. Under the nose, she tells me is the most sensitive area, so she would stop if it became too painful. Turns out she was impressed because once I commit to something, I am IN all the way, pain be damned.
Okay, here's how my Laser experience led to my Botox experience. I was explaining to the laser tech about my Cyclops looks and she said that with Botox I could probably get some lift in the skin above the eye. That’s all I needed to hear. I began investigating.
At the next social gathering, I sat next to my “Botox-adventurous” friends and picked their brains for information and doctor recommendations. I went to the “top doc” in my area and he agreed that my eyes were asymmetrical with the right eye drooping. “Thank You!”
He thought about it for a while and said if I wanted, he’d be willing to try Botox injections to see if it helped. He asked that I return in two weeks to evaluate the results. I’m his little experiment now.
One thing leads to another on this slippery slope. But I’m not too worried about myself because I swear I’ll NEVER…..oops, I’m going to shut up now.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Endless Love
He was born a mountain stream, a youthful river. How long does the river remember?
It seems only yesterday he told her that he loved her “this much” stretching his arms as far apart as they would reach, only yesterday he giggled when she gave him butterfly kisses with her eyebrows.
Only yesterday she cheered at his little league games, only yesterday she taught him to drive a car, seems like he’s been driving away ever since.
Her job was to teach him about life, to manage but not alter his flow, to harness his energy and allow his tributaries their own path, to trust his choices.
She was good at her job, maybe too good. He grew, thrived, loved, learned, and left. Now she watches the river from a far away hilltop admiring its strength and beauty in total awe of its magnificent flow.
How long does the river remember? She’s hoping, like the headwaters, forever.
It seems only yesterday he told her that he loved her “this much” stretching his arms as far apart as they would reach, only yesterday he giggled when she gave him butterfly kisses with her eyebrows.
Only yesterday she cheered at his little league games, only yesterday she taught him to drive a car, seems like he’s been driving away ever since.
Her job was to teach him about life, to manage but not alter his flow, to harness his energy and allow his tributaries their own path, to trust his choices.
She was good at her job, maybe too good. He grew, thrived, loved, learned, and left. Now she watches the river from a far away hilltop admiring its strength and beauty in total awe of its magnificent flow.
How long does the river remember? She’s hoping, like the headwaters, forever.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Laugh Till You Cry
Before there was speech, there was laughter. It turns out that laughter has an evolutionary past and is not a uniquely human trait.
Jaak Panksepp, a professor of psychobiology at Bowling Green State University discovered that when rats play they often chirp, which he describes as a primitive form of laughter. In a 2003 study, “rats that received tickles bonded with researchers and became rapidly conditioned to seek tickles.”1 Another researcher Robert Provine, a psychology professor at the University of Maryland says that laughter evolved from tickling and rough-and-tumble play.1
The therapeutic value of laughter in humans is well documented, but have we evolved too far from our tickle seeking past? Can we learn a thing of two from our “rough-housing” primitive ancestors? Babies laugh when tickled, children laugh 300 times a day, but adults only laugh 15 times a day.2
In the future, prescriptions for mood disorders could read “administer three times daily, one-half hour of intensive tickling or labored breathing play, possible side effects can include but are not limited to: peeing your pants, making incoherent noises, begging to stop, and yelling the word 'uncle' at the top of your lungs.”
At our house, rough-housing always goes a little too far and usually ends with someone crying. But you know what? I’m going to risk it. I’m going to take a step backward to move a step forward. That's right, I'm going to laugh until I cry. Crying is good for you, too, right?
1http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/03/0331_050331_animallaughter.html2http://www.hinduonnet.com/folio/fo0003/00030440.htm
2http://www.hinduonnet.com/folio/fo0003/00030440.htm
Jaak Panksepp, a professor of psychobiology at Bowling Green State University discovered that when rats play they often chirp, which he describes as a primitive form of laughter. In a 2003 study, “rats that received tickles bonded with researchers and became rapidly conditioned to seek tickles.”1 Another researcher Robert Provine, a psychology professor at the University of Maryland says that laughter evolved from tickling and rough-and-tumble play.1
The therapeutic value of laughter in humans is well documented, but have we evolved too far from our tickle seeking past? Can we learn a thing of two from our “rough-housing” primitive ancestors? Babies laugh when tickled, children laugh 300 times a day, but adults only laugh 15 times a day.2
In the future, prescriptions for mood disorders could read “administer three times daily, one-half hour of intensive tickling or labored breathing play, possible side effects can include but are not limited to: peeing your pants, making incoherent noises, begging to stop, and yelling the word 'uncle' at the top of your lungs.”
At our house, rough-housing always goes a little too far and usually ends with someone crying. But you know what? I’m going to risk it. I’m going to take a step backward to move a step forward. That's right, I'm going to laugh until I cry. Crying is good for you, too, right?
1http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/03/0331_050331_animallaughter.html2http://www.hinduonnet.com/folio/fo0003/00030440.htm
2http://www.hinduonnet.com/folio/fo0003/00030440.htm
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Feathering My Nest
Now that I have two feet firmly planted in California, I’ve decided it’s time to spruce up my nest. When we moved here five years ago, I walked through my house just once for maybe ten minutes and decided “yes I could live here.”
My realtor showed me the house because the street had a quirky sounding name, turns out to be one of the best fits, house-wise for us ever. It’s a truly special feeling being in the right place at the right time, isn’t it?
Normally, I like to move, changing houses does me good. I once moved from one apartment to another two doors down. In my defense, it was from a flat to a townhouse, but anyone who saw me pushing my grandmother’s old upright piano down the sidewalk to its new home did think I was a little crazy.
Five years in my house here in California makes me want to spend five more. I must be getting old. My body feels its age at times, but in my mind I a still a young girl, no matter how much the mirror disagrees with me. My eighty year old mother-in-law told me that sometimes she looks in the mirror and wonders whose face that is looking back at her.
My mind will always be young, even if at times my body seems to be betraying me. A fresh coat of paint is a part of my sprucing up plan. I could hire someone to do it, but for some reason, I hate paying for something that I can do myself, plus I am picky and would rather look at my own best effort than someone else’s, that is until yesterday.
After spending hours painting my guest room, my shoulder started tightening up and hurting. When I finally stopped I heard it saying loudly and clearly “I can only go so far, don’t take me for granted.” Normally, I am not that good at listening, but today, I’m emailing my friends to get referrals for a good painter.
If my body is kind enough to fire a few warning shots over the bow, I think I'd better listen up and pay attention.
My realtor showed me the house because the street had a quirky sounding name, turns out to be one of the best fits, house-wise for us ever. It’s a truly special feeling being in the right place at the right time, isn’t it?
Normally, I like to move, changing houses does me good. I once moved from one apartment to another two doors down. In my defense, it was from a flat to a townhouse, but anyone who saw me pushing my grandmother’s old upright piano down the sidewalk to its new home did think I was a little crazy.
Five years in my house here in California makes me want to spend five more. I must be getting old. My body feels its age at times, but in my mind I a still a young girl, no matter how much the mirror disagrees with me. My eighty year old mother-in-law told me that sometimes she looks in the mirror and wonders whose face that is looking back at her.
My mind will always be young, even if at times my body seems to be betraying me. A fresh coat of paint is a part of my sprucing up plan. I could hire someone to do it, but for some reason, I hate paying for something that I can do myself, plus I am picky and would rather look at my own best effort than someone else’s, that is until yesterday.
After spending hours painting my guest room, my shoulder started tightening up and hurting. When I finally stopped I heard it saying loudly and clearly “I can only go so far, don’t take me for granted.” Normally, I am not that good at listening, but today, I’m emailing my friends to get referrals for a good painter.
If my body is kind enough to fire a few warning shots over the bow, I think I'd better listen up and pay attention.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Adding New Members
We've adopted...... five houseplants. Wow, huh? It’s an amazing experience being parents again. Five years ago when we moved to California, we said goodbye to all our houseplants back in Ohio. Our outdoor space here blooms so constantly that we barely missed our left behind plants until now.
We are finally ready to commit, take on a new challenge, be responsible for something other than ourselves again. Our new babies are so darling. Of course, we are trying to provide all the right things for them, just enough water, light, and love…but not too much. This parenting thing is like walking a tightrope isn’t it?
So far, so good, they have lived for about 10 days. We are hopeful that with all the love and attention we are giving them they will prosper, but haven’t we all said that before. I’m just going to enjoy their beauty, watch them grow, and appreciate their gifts.
I am finally planted here, too. Both feet are in California, and I expect I'll grow some, too.
We are finally ready to commit, take on a new challenge, be responsible for something other than ourselves again. Our new babies are so darling. Of course, we are trying to provide all the right things for them, just enough water, light, and love…but not too much. This parenting thing is like walking a tightrope isn’t it?
So far, so good, they have lived for about 10 days. We are hopeful that with all the love and attention we are giving them they will prosper, but haven’t we all said that before. I’m just going to enjoy their beauty, watch them grow, and appreciate their gifts.
I am finally planted here, too. Both feet are in California, and I expect I'll grow some, too.
Friday, July 11, 2008
"A Kick in the Butt is a Step Forward"
Dr. Phil said that bit of wisdom. Most people I have offered that advice to have not taken it, but I am not most people, and I and stepping up to give myself a gentle, loving kick in the butt.
A wise teacher once told me, just write, good, bad, or otherwise, just write. Of course, I want everything to be a masterpiece. Which I know it is an unrealistic and unnecessary standard to hold myself to. My writing doesn’t always have to be pretty, interesting, or necessarily good to uphold my dream. It just has to be a sharing of my words on the page.
I love to write because it marries my lifelong need for introspection with my need to express myself creatively. For me, writing involves a going in and learning something new or accessing what I already know and then sharing my thoughts, ideas, and inspirations.
Writing without a clear destination for the words is sometimes difficult. That’s where you, my readers come in. You listen to me and I would love to listen to you, too. Tell me what you relate to, what inspires you, what YOUR dream is.
Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect, pretty or a masterpiece, just a sharing of your words on a page, that’s all.
A wise teacher once told me, just write, good, bad, or otherwise, just write. Of course, I want everything to be a masterpiece. Which I know it is an unrealistic and unnecessary standard to hold myself to. My writing doesn’t always have to be pretty, interesting, or necessarily good to uphold my dream. It just has to be a sharing of my words on the page.
I love to write because it marries my lifelong need for introspection with my need to express myself creatively. For me, writing involves a going in and learning something new or accessing what I already know and then sharing my thoughts, ideas, and inspirations.
Writing without a clear destination for the words is sometimes difficult. That’s where you, my readers come in. You listen to me and I would love to listen to you, too. Tell me what you relate to, what inspires you, what YOUR dream is.
Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect, pretty or a masterpiece, just a sharing of your words on a page, that’s all.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
I (State Your Dream)
What am I doing in support of my dream? This week I have to admit, not much.
I have been waiting around trying to figure out how to turn a spark into a flame, and a flame into a fire, when I know the answer, just keep striking matches and fan the embers with constant encouragement.
In a self-coaching moment, I asked “what are you willing to do right now in pursuit of your dream.” I answered “read about creativity.” So that’s what I did instead of writing. I finished Eric Maisel’s book Coaching the Artist Within and discovered that I have a dream, but not a plan for my dream.
One strategy Maisel suggests for taking action in pursuit of your dream is to devote an entire journal to dream-upholding. Write “My dream is (fill in your dream) and then every day write a sentence of two on how you will uphold your dream that day. Another of Maisel's ideas is to use a daily calendar divided into two sections. In the top section, every morning write your daily goals with respect to your creative life, and every evening in the bottom section summarize to what extent you achieved your goals.”
Starting tomorrow, I plan to institute at least one of these practices, probably the calendar one because I can buy one with beautiful pictures that I will love looking at. See I’m already starting to plan and I’m planning to keep on planning, too.
I have been waiting around trying to figure out how to turn a spark into a flame, and a flame into a fire, when I know the answer, just keep striking matches and fan the embers with constant encouragement.
In a self-coaching moment, I asked “what are you willing to do right now in pursuit of your dream.” I answered “read about creativity.” So that’s what I did instead of writing. I finished Eric Maisel’s book Coaching the Artist Within and discovered that I have a dream, but not a plan for my dream.
One strategy Maisel suggests for taking action in pursuit of your dream is to devote an entire journal to dream-upholding. Write “My dream is (fill in your dream) and then every day write a sentence of two on how you will uphold your dream that day. Another of Maisel's ideas is to use a daily calendar divided into two sections. In the top section, every morning write your daily goals with respect to your creative life, and every evening in the bottom section summarize to what extent you achieved your goals.”
Starting tomorrow, I plan to institute at least one of these practices, probably the calendar one because I can buy one with beautiful pictures that I will love looking at. See I’m already starting to plan and I’m planning to keep on planning, too.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Try Something New
Keep things fresh, change things up a bit, incorporate something new into your life. We did that this weekend, not the camping (we’ve done that before). Our new thing was being filthy dirty for two days and enjoying it. I’m talking camping dirt on top of more camping dirt ground into more camping dirt.
My normally well-groomed husband arrived home on Sunday followed by a cloud of dust wearing the same clothes he left the house in on Friday morning (don’t tell him I told you that).
I did sneak in a (coin operated) 75¢ shower on Saturday and applied what I call my “camping makeup,” mascara (top lashes only), foundation (to hide my slight imperfections) and tinted lip stuff (SPF25 of course). The campground restrooms have no mirrors, which I think is a good thing considering how we all looked. So my camping makeup was applied in the reflection of my car windows (another new experience).
Today, I’m laughing at everything, my eyes sparkle and my mood is light, maybe because for two days I managed to not take much of anything too seriously, even the dirt.
It was fun to break the rules, change things up a bit, experience extreme dirtiness. I gained a new appreciation for my own shower and having clean feet.
We go camping for the friends, the party, the food, and NOW for the dirt, too!
My normally well-groomed husband arrived home on Sunday followed by a cloud of dust wearing the same clothes he left the house in on Friday morning (don’t tell him I told you that).
I did sneak in a (coin operated) 75¢ shower on Saturday and applied what I call my “camping makeup,” mascara (top lashes only), foundation (to hide my slight imperfections) and tinted lip stuff (SPF25 of course). The campground restrooms have no mirrors, which I think is a good thing considering how we all looked. So my camping makeup was applied in the reflection of my car windows (another new experience).
Today, I’m laughing at everything, my eyes sparkle and my mood is light, maybe because for two days I managed to not take much of anything too seriously, even the dirt.
It was fun to break the rules, change things up a bit, experience extreme dirtiness. I gained a new appreciation for my own shower and having clean feet.
We go camping for the friends, the party, the food, and NOW for the dirt, too!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Independence Day
What better way to celebrate the 4th of July than a camping trip. I was raised on camping but my childhood trips were much, much different from the ones I take today.
Today's camping trips include great meals, great friends, big campfires, and of course “camping juice” A.K.A wine or D.O.C. drink of choice.
We go with a huge group of good friends who have two requirements when choosing a campground, flush toilets and showers. I respect that. They have cooking stoves and all the camp stuff, we just show up with our tent, sleeping bags, flashlights, and "camping juice."
Our friends plan everything from theme food nights to blind wine tasting (we aren’t blind, the bottles are just covered up). We taste the wines and rate them. Each person puts in $10 and the person’s wine voted number one gets the kitty. You can only imagine how out of control this can get.
We also play a dice game called Left, Right, Center with dollar bills, honestly this group will bet on anything so we bring extra singles to play along.
This year's dinner theme is "Our Immigrant Heritage” with Thursday being Mexican, Friday Greek, and Saturday Italian. I’m a guest chef on Friday, Greek Night. I'm bringing a Peasant Salad with fresh herbs, a yummy Greek Salad, and a dessert.
It’s all about being together with good friends, sharing great food, sitting around a roaring campfire, and oh yeah nature too.
"Let freedom ring, let the wine dogs sing." Happy 4th and Bon Appetit.
Today's camping trips include great meals, great friends, big campfires, and of course “camping juice” A.K.A wine or D.O.C. drink of choice.
We go with a huge group of good friends who have two requirements when choosing a campground, flush toilets and showers. I respect that. They have cooking stoves and all the camp stuff, we just show up with our tent, sleeping bags, flashlights, and "camping juice."
Our friends plan everything from theme food nights to blind wine tasting (we aren’t blind, the bottles are just covered up). We taste the wines and rate them. Each person puts in $10 and the person’s wine voted number one gets the kitty. You can only imagine how out of control this can get.
We also play a dice game called Left, Right, Center with dollar bills, honestly this group will bet on anything so we bring extra singles to play along.
This year's dinner theme is "Our Immigrant Heritage” with Thursday being Mexican, Friday Greek, and Saturday Italian. I’m a guest chef on Friday, Greek Night. I'm bringing a Peasant Salad with fresh herbs, a yummy Greek Salad, and a dessert.
It’s all about being together with good friends, sharing great food, sitting around a roaring campfire, and oh yeah nature too.
"Let freedom ring, let the wine dogs sing." Happy 4th and Bon Appetit.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
The Smokey Eye (not just a makeup technique)
One thing I love about Northern California is that even in the heat of summer, the Delta breeze rolls in at night and we can open our windows and enjoy fifty degree temperatures……that is when Northern California isn’t on fire.
Last week’s wildfires and resulting dangerous air quaity obscured our normally beautiful sun and sky forcing us to run our air conditioner for the first time this season.
I came from Columbus, Ohio where the average number of sunny days is 178 per year. This week reminded me of why I love living here….our average number of sunny days is 300 per year. Not seeing the “real sun” last week or being able to go outside to play affected my mood.
While inside, I was channel surfing and stopped briefly on a religious channel. A preacher was talking about good angels and bad angels. I had thought there were only angels and devils, but apparently bad angels are devils in disguise. So the preacher was suggesting that when an angel delivers a message to us, we should measure it against God’s word to see if it was a good angel or a bad angel. I don’t know about you, but all I have to do is listen to my heart to tell the difference between my angels and my devils, I'm not that easily fooled.
So here we are with some 1400 fires burning in California. Is God mad at us for something or is it because of some prophecy (you can tell I’m not much of a biblical scholar) or is it because of science and climatology, or is it because we have built homes so close to the wilderness that when fires break out we extinguish them so quickly that the underbrush remains so dense that when one does really get going it burns too hot to be put out (opinion of a fireman friend)?
What can I say opinions are like….belly buttons….everyone has one. Did you think I was going to say something else? I’m happy to report that the sunshine and my sunny disposition are back......and thanks to all who inquired about our safety and well being.
Last week’s wildfires and resulting dangerous air quaity obscured our normally beautiful sun and sky forcing us to run our air conditioner for the first time this season.
I came from Columbus, Ohio where the average number of sunny days is 178 per year. This week reminded me of why I love living here….our average number of sunny days is 300 per year. Not seeing the “real sun” last week or being able to go outside to play affected my mood.
While inside, I was channel surfing and stopped briefly on a religious channel. A preacher was talking about good angels and bad angels. I had thought there were only angels and devils, but apparently bad angels are devils in disguise. So the preacher was suggesting that when an angel delivers a message to us, we should measure it against God’s word to see if it was a good angel or a bad angel. I don’t know about you, but all I have to do is listen to my heart to tell the difference between my angels and my devils, I'm not that easily fooled.
So here we are with some 1400 fires burning in California. Is God mad at us for something or is it because of some prophecy (you can tell I’m not much of a biblical scholar) or is it because of science and climatology, or is it because we have built homes so close to the wilderness that when fires break out we extinguish them so quickly that the underbrush remains so dense that when one does really get going it burns too hot to be put out (opinion of a fireman friend)?
What can I say opinions are like….belly buttons….everyone has one. Did you think I was going to say something else? I’m happy to report that the sunshine and my sunny disposition are back......and thanks to all who inquired about our safety and well being.
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