Have you ever seen one of those annoying dog mom's who talk baby talk to their dogs, treat them like humans and get offended by people thinking anything even remotely negative about their dogs? Well, I've become one of them. I didn't intend for this to happen. I was happy being the owner of a couple of dogs who are nice enough, even family members, but not connected to me as much as other dogs in the past. Last January my family coerced me into getting a puppy. I was not thrilled with the idea. I had often said that if we were ever to get another dog it would be an older rescue. I barely survived Sydney's puppy hood and there was no way in Hell I would go through that again. Like many mothers, I have a hard time saying no to my youngest. As the baby his siblings often label him as the "favorite" child and believe he has it so much better than they ever did. I don't agree with that. I believe that each child is loved and has gotten perks that the others didn't. Nicholas is my firstborn, Kelli is the only girl and much to his dismay, Kyle is the baby. His injury last January deeply upset me and made me susceptible to moments of weakness. I can only say that I must have been momentarily possessed when I agreed to a pit bull rescue puppy. I am not a stranger to pit bulls. We had a couple of very sweet ones when I was in high school. They have big hearts and are unfailingly loyal. They love with all of their being and want only to please their people. This naive desire to please is what gets them into trouble. Many dogs of this breed have been trained to fight or have been abused so badly that it is their only recourse. They have gotten a bad rap. No one looked at lovable Pete, the dog friend of the Little Rascals and claimed that he was dangerous and would probably mall one of the kids on the set. I have seen viscous dogs of all breeds. Believe me if poodles, shih tzus and chihuahuas weren't so little they would be in the headlines daily. Those little things can be mean and like to bite. Don't even get me started on mini dachshunds or mini pincher's. Pit bulls are big, they are strong, and when you run into a bad one it does more damage then other breeds. That doesn't mean that the whole breed is bad. They are completely misunderstood, labeled and unfairly hated. For this reason I was not keen on the idea of bringing one into our home. I knew all to well how neighbors would feel and the public would react to him.
As I said, I lost the battle and Rooney was picked up and brought home on a Sunday while I was at work. The dog was to be Kyle's so I didn't have any choice in which dog he would get so the family went to the shelter without me. They went to look at a puppy they had seen on line. They made the trip across the Columbia to a little shelter in Washougal, Washington. The dog that had caught their attention was spoken for but he had siblings and there were other puppies at the shelter. Rooney won their hearts and I came home to a little guy who was cuter than I wanted to admit. He was a fast learner and was soon potty trained and didn't do as much damage in chewing as I expected him to. Unlike Sydney he didn't dig giant holes in the grass, eat my shoes or wreak havoc with the neighbors. He was sad that the two older female dogs weren't readily charmed by his cuteness and didn't want to cuddle with him. He cuddled with everyone else. He was affectionate and before I knew it, I was hooked. I worried about him being in his kennel too long, I bought him toys at Ross where they are cheaper, created a toy box for him and spoiled him rotten. When no one is around I talk baby talk to him. It makes me throw up in my mouth when I realize what I'm doing, but I go on doing it. He is sweet and deserves to be loved back. He wants the world to love him. When new people come into the house it is hard to control his enthusiasm. He wants to kiss them and play with them and make them his best friends. He doesn't understand how big he is and that for most people he isn't really a lap dog. Our family has adjusted. We cuddle on the couch with him and treat him like the lap dog he believes he is. We deal with the occasional eaten sock and the "pit fits". His pit fit is when all of the sudden he just has so much energy that he picks up a toy and runs full speed through the house several times. He circles things, knocks a few things over and jumps furniture. When he is finished he drops on the floor exhausted by his efforts and gives a big loud sigh that signals that he is ready for a long nap.
My daughter informed me today that although Rooney is cute, he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. This made me sad. I don't want anyone to think he is stupid. He is my baby. He is big, clumsy and sweet. He may chase his tail and think that the dogs on TV will come out and play with him, but he isn't a complete idiot. He can undo knots in ropes and socks, he shares his toys with Sydney by playing with it in front of her, then pushing it over to her. He does taunt her with toys at times, but that is when he is trying to get her to play.
We also have a neighbor who lives next door to the house behind us. Sometimes Rooney lifts himself up to look over the fence to see what is going on in their yard. He is super curious. He likes to get into grocery bags, boxes and laundry baskets. He just likes to see what things are and when he hears a noise in the yard he wants to investigate. The irate man came to inform us that our pit bull looks at them and that they feel threatened because they have dogs and kids. Well, we have dogs and kids. We feel completely safe. He do our best to keep Rooney away from the fence now. That neighbor doesn't deserve Rooney's curiosity. He is shortsighted and shallow minded. See--I am labeling a man I don't even know because he dared to make assumptions about my dog. I've lost it. I take pictures of him watching TV with me. We record Pit bulls and parolees every Saturday night because he loves that show. I love that show. When I first heard the title I pictured something completely different. When I watched if for the first time and learned what big hearts they had and the passion they have for the rescue work they do I was hooked. Like many on the show who adopt rescue dogs, they end up believing it was actually the dog who rescued them. Does Rooney make me a better person? Maybe. He makes me laugh, exasperates me at times and loves me with the unconditional, adoring love that only a dog can give. My children are growing up and distancing themselves from me. They are becoming their own people and asserting their independence. My motherly instincts are now focused on a 70 pound pit bull who has stolen my heart. I am not the over the top annoying dog mom, but annoying dog mom I am. :)
Thursday, January 23, 2014
The Strange Woman in My Mirror
Recently my friend told me that when she looks in her mirror she sees a chunky, middle aged woman who looks really tired. I find that astonishing because when I look in my mirror I see the same thing! I don't recognize the stranger with the tired eyes and pale face. I wonder if that is who my friend sees. I believe that my mirror is defective and there should be a recall notice. I wonder how many other people are seeing this woman in their mirrors? She weighs more than I do, is older than I am and just looks exhausted. I think she needs a tropical vacation that includes a a hammock and a tropical drink with an umbrella. At the very least she needs a decent nights sleep and good concealer.
I tried in vain to find me in the eyes of the woman in the mirror. There was no sign of me at all. I should be average height, average weight, brown hair, sparkly brown eyes and bounds of energy. This woman is pasty white, bloated, has dark circles under her eyes and needs to comb her hair. She doesn't look very interesting at all and probably eats too much processed food. It doesn't matter what time of the day or night I check, the chunky chick is still there looking perplexed. I think she is just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. I'm at a complete loss as to why she is hanging out in my mirror. I wonder how she has time to hang out in my friends' mirror when she is always in mine!
I try to imagine the life of the woman in the mirror. I see her reading way too many books in dark rooms when she should be out in the fresh air hiking or working in the yard. I think books are good in moderation, but this woman reads obsessively. I think she is trying to escape her mundane life or something. I'm not sure why she reads so much. Maybe it isn't a bad thing. She just seems to need balance. Maybe if she read a few of the books on her nightstand regarding health and fitness she would learn balance. Instead she picks them up, hesitates, then puts it back down preferring the fictional characters to the hard cold facts of what she needs to do in order to make the changes she day dreams about.
I sense her fear of failure, her low self esteem and the many little battles she has lost against herself. She is defeated before even really trying. Her intentions are good and she has a big heart. She just lacks the courage and drive. She needs ambition and the tiny seed of faith. I wish I could give it to her. She is stubborn though and doesn't hear me when I try to reason with her. She just puts me off until tomorrow. I will visit with her again in the morning. I hope to see color in her cheeks, a sparkle in her eye and just a tiny bit of confidence. Maybe I will even catch a glimpse of me. I have to be in there somewhere since it is a mirror.
I'm curious as to how many other people have strangers living in their mirrors. Maybe there needs to be a massive recall on defective mirrors. While they are recalling the mirrors, they may want to recall my scale as well~don't even get me started on that!
I tried in vain to find me in the eyes of the woman in the mirror. There was no sign of me at all. I should be average height, average weight, brown hair, sparkly brown eyes and bounds of energy. This woman is pasty white, bloated, has dark circles under her eyes and needs to comb her hair. She doesn't look very interesting at all and probably eats too much processed food. It doesn't matter what time of the day or night I check, the chunky chick is still there looking perplexed. I think she is just as surprised to see me as I am to see her. I'm at a complete loss as to why she is hanging out in my mirror. I wonder how she has time to hang out in my friends' mirror when she is always in mine!
I try to imagine the life of the woman in the mirror. I see her reading way too many books in dark rooms when she should be out in the fresh air hiking or working in the yard. I think books are good in moderation, but this woman reads obsessively. I think she is trying to escape her mundane life or something. I'm not sure why she reads so much. Maybe it isn't a bad thing. She just seems to need balance. Maybe if she read a few of the books on her nightstand regarding health and fitness she would learn balance. Instead she picks them up, hesitates, then puts it back down preferring the fictional characters to the hard cold facts of what she needs to do in order to make the changes she day dreams about.
I sense her fear of failure, her low self esteem and the many little battles she has lost against herself. She is defeated before even really trying. Her intentions are good and she has a big heart. She just lacks the courage and drive. She needs ambition and the tiny seed of faith. I wish I could give it to her. She is stubborn though and doesn't hear me when I try to reason with her. She just puts me off until tomorrow. I will visit with her again in the morning. I hope to see color in her cheeks, a sparkle in her eye and just a tiny bit of confidence. Maybe I will even catch a glimpse of me. I have to be in there somewhere since it is a mirror.
I'm curious as to how many other people have strangers living in their mirrors. Maybe there needs to be a massive recall on defective mirrors. While they are recalling the mirrors, they may want to recall my scale as well~don't even get me started on that!
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Confessions of a Chameleon
When I was younger I wanted so much to fit in with the crowd. I tried to mimic the thoughts and behaviors of whoever I happened to want to emulate on a particular day. I tried to accept everyone and be kind, but I know there were times when I could have said or done more to help those who felt isolated or persecuted. I did go through a phase in high school and college where I tried to stand out and become something other than the bland girl next door. I set myself up for disaster on many occasions and finally felt broken and unworthy. I started making rash decisions without thinking things through which damaged my psyche even more.
I didn't aspire to be a chameleon; it wasn't a conscious decision. I believe it was a subconscious survival tactic that I adopted in order to keep myself safe. I have always been too sensitive. I can read strong emotions and am acutely aware of people's perceptions of me. I try not to take them personally. We weren't all designed to be accepting of everyone. Though I try to be I still have a very hard time not completely shutting some people off. I can't handle extreme prejudice, bullies, constant negativity or spitefulness. There is no need to be cruel to any living thing and no need to belittle anyone. We are all capable of belittling ourselves, we certainly don't need help.
As a chameleon I worked hard not to cause friction, steered clear of conflict and made a habit of not offering strong opinions on anything. I still won't offer any opinion on politics because I don't have the time, energy or desire to fully understand them. I have my own personal views on religion that aren't widely popular and would be seen as blasphemy by Bible purists who wholeheartedly believe that their interpretations of scripture are the only right ones and therefore damn everyone else who may see things differently. I am spiritual and believe in a loving God who wants me to love my neighbor and treat others as I would like to be treated. By others I mean animals, people of all colors, races, religions and sexual preferences. I am not here to judge. I will not condemn anyone because I am far from perfect. I do believe in past lives and soul connections. This is way out there for many people. I respect that, we are all on our own journeys and someday we will all know the absolute truth. For now it is up to us to take the bits and pieces of knowledge that we do have and come to our own conclusions.
When I was younger my experiences caused me to erroneously equate sex with love. Unfortunately that leads to painful lessons and regrettable decisions. I believe that I booby trap my attempts to lose weight because I don't want to feel objectified. I want people to look deeper than the surface to see who I really am. Not everyone takes the time to do that. Many people make snap judgments based solely on outer appearances. I have been guilty of this and have to work hard not to do this myself. I will continue to try to lose weight and become healthy. I hope to make it past the mental blocks that I have posted so that I can allow myself to be successful. I am the only one holding me back.
I have tried in the last few years to come out of my chameleon state and show my true colors. I would never have admitted my religious beliefs before because I would never say anything that might offend anyone. It is really hard being politically correct and unoffensive at ALL times. I was a born diplomat, but have suppressed so much of myself by trying to be who others wanted me to be. It isn't worth the price of acceptance to completely lose the essence of who you are and who you want to become. I have to believe that those who really love me and want me in their lives will continue to love me despite our different views.
So in searching for the real me after all of these years I have realized that I am an old soul who has an open mind and likes to think outside the box. I never thought I would actually publish my thoughts and beliefs in a blog. It is scary but liberating. There are so many people out there who want to judge people and bring them down. I want to encourage people and lift them up. I don't need to hide anymore, I accept myself flaws and all. My scars make me more interesting than the bland girl next door.
I didn't aspire to be a chameleon; it wasn't a conscious decision. I believe it was a subconscious survival tactic that I adopted in order to keep myself safe. I have always been too sensitive. I can read strong emotions and am acutely aware of people's perceptions of me. I try not to take them personally. We weren't all designed to be accepting of everyone. Though I try to be I still have a very hard time not completely shutting some people off. I can't handle extreme prejudice, bullies, constant negativity or spitefulness. There is no need to be cruel to any living thing and no need to belittle anyone. We are all capable of belittling ourselves, we certainly don't need help.
As a chameleon I worked hard not to cause friction, steered clear of conflict and made a habit of not offering strong opinions on anything. I still won't offer any opinion on politics because I don't have the time, energy or desire to fully understand them. I have my own personal views on religion that aren't widely popular and would be seen as blasphemy by Bible purists who wholeheartedly believe that their interpretations of scripture are the only right ones and therefore damn everyone else who may see things differently. I am spiritual and believe in a loving God who wants me to love my neighbor and treat others as I would like to be treated. By others I mean animals, people of all colors, races, religions and sexual preferences. I am not here to judge. I will not condemn anyone because I am far from perfect. I do believe in past lives and soul connections. This is way out there for many people. I respect that, we are all on our own journeys and someday we will all know the absolute truth. For now it is up to us to take the bits and pieces of knowledge that we do have and come to our own conclusions.
When I was younger my experiences caused me to erroneously equate sex with love. Unfortunately that leads to painful lessons and regrettable decisions. I believe that I booby trap my attempts to lose weight because I don't want to feel objectified. I want people to look deeper than the surface to see who I really am. Not everyone takes the time to do that. Many people make snap judgments based solely on outer appearances. I have been guilty of this and have to work hard not to do this myself. I will continue to try to lose weight and become healthy. I hope to make it past the mental blocks that I have posted so that I can allow myself to be successful. I am the only one holding me back.
I have tried in the last few years to come out of my chameleon state and show my true colors. I would never have admitted my religious beliefs before because I would never say anything that might offend anyone. It is really hard being politically correct and unoffensive at ALL times. I was a born diplomat, but have suppressed so much of myself by trying to be who others wanted me to be. It isn't worth the price of acceptance to completely lose the essence of who you are and who you want to become. I have to believe that those who really love me and want me in their lives will continue to love me despite our different views.
So in searching for the real me after all of these years I have realized that I am an old soul who has an open mind and likes to think outside the box. I never thought I would actually publish my thoughts and beliefs in a blog. It is scary but liberating. There are so many people out there who want to judge people and bring them down. I want to encourage people and lift them up. I don't need to hide anymore, I accept myself flaws and all. My scars make me more interesting than the bland girl next door.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Writing Prompts
Note to self : When suffering from Writer's Block use a writing prompt. Here was one that came in an e-mail today from Jen Violi, an author whose work I enjoy:
Winter Sustenance Idea #2:
Start with One Word
Start with One Word
For one small writing step this month, why not use one of the most basic increments?
All you need to do is open the book closest to you, let your finger drop onto the page, see what word you landed on, and using that word to fill in the blank, write for five minutes from the prompt: "Everything I know about ____."
So pick a word, any word, and write from there. Turn off your inner judge/critic/butthead commentator, and go. Five minutes. You've got this.
All you need to do is open the book closest to you, let your finger drop onto the page, see what word you landed on, and using that word to fill in the blank, write for five minutes from the prompt: "Everything I know about ____."
So pick a word, any word, and write from there. Turn off your inner judge/critic/butthead commentator, and go. Five minutes. You've got this.
The book closest to me is "Joy for Beginners" by Erica Bauermeister. It is by my desk waiting to be returned to the library. The word my finger landed on was "boundaries".
Everything I know about boundaries:
I know that sometimes I forget about boundaries and share too much information or ask too personal of questions. I am pretty good with personal space boundaries, but when it comes to feelings, emotions, etc I am much too open and curious.
There are boundaries for land. The lot we live on has boundaries that are marked in the back by a fence. Countries have boundaries, many of which you can't cross without proper documentation. Relationships have boundaries. There are things that are inappropriate to do or say to certain people depending on your relationship. The boundaries you have with your close friends are very different from the boundaries that you have for your relatives, neighbors, authority figures or the other people who inhabit your life.
Boundaries is a pretty boring word to have picked. Why couldn't I have picked something more interesting? I guess I followed the rules which are basically boundaries. Some people like to overstep their boundaries. I'm pretty sure this is the most uninteresting blog post I have ever written.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Unfinished Blog Posts and other Randomness.......
I have started three blog posts this last week which were quickly shoved aside due to lack of interest on my part. I found them boring and forced. I am in a bit of a writing slump and was trying to start anything that would break through it to become something actually readable. I looked back over the year and found a few other blog posts which were started, then discarded. I decided to actually take a look at each of these possible posts, revisit them and see if any of them are salvageable. I believe that at least one of them is. Maybe by going over my thoughts on why I started to write certain blogs it will remind me of what I wanted to say and help me find the words.
On January 8th of last year I wrote this:
I don't know if it was because I was an overly imaginative child or just a freak, but I can remember writing dialog in my head from an early age. I would be going through life as if I were in a book or a movie. Sometimes it drove me crazy and I would try to make it go away. That stupid voice inside my head would never shut up! Just my subconscious working overtime, not weird voices or anything sinister. I don't know if I ever learned to live in the "now" because I was always trying to be two steps ahead and plotting out the next scene. When I was in the fourth grade I had this wonderful young teacher named Mrs. Kiriu. She was a pretty Asian woman who made that year magical. It was 1976, so the Bicentennial was a big deal. We made homemade bread, root beer and butter. We also did a lot of writing in class. She was the first person to say that I had a talent for writing. It is funny how one kind word or positive comment can make a huge impact. I started keeping a journal, writing poetry and planning my novel. My novel would be about being adopted. I always felt that being adopted made me different and the last thing I wanted to be in grade school was different. If you were different people noticed and laughed at you. Elementary school kids can be cruel. I learned to blend in and be part of the pack, but always felt on the outside fringe. It never mattered if I was well liked, got good grades or did passably good in sports--I was the freak on the inside reporting life in my head as it went by. I wanted to believe that I was special and would do great things, but no matter how special I tried to be I felt overly ordinary and never quite good enough. Writing was something that I felt I just might be really good at. It was a way to express myself. I have always been better at putting my feelings on paper than trying to verbalize them.
Writing was a big thing for me in jr. high, high school and even the year of college that I did right after high school. I didn't get a whole lot of guidance from the counselor in high school. I am sure most of it was my fault for being a daydreamer who was overly boy crazy. I think he advised me to get married and be a housewife. My parents couldn't afford college and I knew absolutely nothing about scholarships or financial aid. I didn't have the focus and the drive that many of my friends had. I was content with the plan my parents gave me of going to Clark College in Vancouver. My creative writing teacher at Clark loved my work, I was also a reporter for the college newspaper and things were going well. I had started writing for the school newspaper in jr. high and thought maybe journalism would be a good avenue for me. I learned quickly that I didn't have the cut throat personality that it took to be a successful journalist.
And there it ended. I'm not sure why. This is an unedited draft, but it wasn't terrible. It might be the fact that the spring of 1985 while writing in college, I had one of the most painful times in my life. For whatever reason, this is as far as that blog entry made it. It has sat in cyberspace for a year with the word "draft" attached to it. It was never sent out into the world like other blog posts.
On the 21st of April there is a "draft" called Invisible. I must have really felt invisible because there is not one word written. If I wrote anything at all except for the title, I deleted it. Not sure what was going through my head. Invisible in itself says a lot. Curiously enough on the same exact day there is another title only post that says "Kitten". Unlike "Invisible", I do remember exactly what "Kitten" was going to be about. In April I found out that an ex-neighbor was going to be in White Salmon doing a public Psychic Reading event at the grange. My aunt showed me the article in the newspaper and was mildly curious. When I saw the name of the kid it brought back memories. We lived in a house on the main street that runs through White Salmon. It was a three story older house that was divided into two living spaces. My family rented the top two stories and the bottom story was an apartment that had a wooden porch. There were three kids who lived next to us. A girl who was a year older than me, a boy who was a year younger and then another boy who was three. That was pretty young compared to my advanced seven years. My cat had kittens and they lived in a bed on our covered porch. The porch wrapped around the side of the house and looked out over the side yard a story below. One day when we were gone the three year old neighbor boy took three of the the five kittens and dropped them over the side of the porch. The kittens were young and miraculously two survived. One did not. It hit the wooden porch below and died. I was devastated. That was my only memory of this three year old boy until he showed up in the paper forty years later as a psychic medium who sees ghosts. He says it began when he was a small child living in a haunted house. Was the house next to me haunted? What possessed him to throw my kittens off of a porch? I was tempted to buy the expensive ticket to see him speak just so that I could ask these questions. Of course then I rethought it and decided that I would sound like a raving lunatic and saved my money. I do wonder though.
On May 20th I decided that the half finished novel on my computer was boring and needed a complete revamp if it was ever going to be anything more than a file that takes up space on my hard drive. I thought of a new beginning for it and a way to make it seem more viable. I started writing it as a blog post and only got one paragraph done. This is fictional--I have never been tied up in the trunk of a car before!
They say that curiosity killed the cat. Like most people, I have heard that phrase my entire life. I was born curious and never really thought of it as a bad thing until now. I have learned a lot through curiosity, but have also uncovered a few things that probably would have been better left alone. My newest escapade has landed me in the trunk of a car with a knot on the back of my head. I should be freaking out, but I am unnaturally calm. I'm not sure if it is shock or acceptance. It better not be acceptance, I am not ready to die. I am only 42 years old, I have a family who needs me and too many things left to do in life. I can't believe how trusting I am--curiosity is one thing, but add naivety and empathy and that seems to make me a big target.
My so called novel is still taking up space on my hard drive and need more work than ever as part of it is rewritten in the first person but the majority of it isn't. It is still half finished and in serious need of some time and TLC. It is tough to say whether or not it will get the attention it needs in 2014. I started a project with my writing group that they felt was a more interesting start to a novel.
In August I started one called "Bad Dog Blues". Like others it didn't get far at all. It simply starts:
In this world of Reality TV,
Yes, that is really how far it got. I know what I wanted to write about. I just wanted to do some research and haven't found the time. I was upset because of the preconceived notions that people have about Pit Bulls. I happen to love my very sweet Pit Bull who has a big heart and loves everyone. The looks and comments that people aim towards him are completely unfair. They don't know him. It is discrimination and shows me a little more how certain people feel when they are judged by their outer appearance. People like to generalize groups of people due to their looks, their social status, education, sexual preference, religious beliefs or whatever box they want to put them into. Every dog, just like every person, has their own unique personality and worth. Generalizing, discriminating, having perceptions pertaining to appearances are hurtful. Those with narrow views are also hurting themselves because they are missing out on some pretty worthwhile dogs, people or whatever. Again, just a rant that sometimes goes through my head when I see my dog hated because of his breed, me dismissed because of my age and/or weight and other perfectly awesome people shut down because they don't fit a certain standard that is supposed to be acceptable. I'm not sure if any of that made sense. Maybe that is why the blog post didn't get very far!
September found me wanting to rant again with a post that was going to be titled "Missing the Simple Life". Not sure where it was going to go from it's first paragraph since that is as far as it got, but this is how it started:
I am a fan of social media when it is used in a positive manner such as keeping in touch with friends and family, sharing pictures and marketing for your business. Networking is imperative these days to making it in any business. Everyone is connected. What I'm not a fan of is cyber bullying, scam artists and hateful ranting on public sites. Hiding behind a computer should not automatically make you immune to being a decent human being. Anonymous or not, you should still have morals and boundaries. I am constantly amazed at the ignorance, arrogance and blatant poison that people unleash on the world through chat rooms, public forums and sometimes on your own personal pages.
I do get passionate when trying to defend others. Again, not sure why I was up in arms or what my message that day was going to be. Things did seem a lot less complicated before everyone was connected through the internet. Though it is a wonderful thing, it can be used for so much bad as well.
Those were my only unfinished drafts until yesterday when I started three and then found them all lacking. The first one was titled "Finding Balance in 2014".
It seems that the first thing I am really going to have to work on this year is balance. I know I've worked on it before, but life is constantly changing so staying balanced is often a challenge for me. I have not worked full time in over twenty years. It is crazy to realize that it has been that long. Now that I am working more and adding a steady paycheck I need to think about how to best use my time outside of work. It is difficult when you have so many interests and dozens of options. I hate giving anything up but may have to so that I don't fall flat on my face.
I started off the year belonging to two bunco groups, two book groups, a writing group, a meditation group and a paranormal group. I also am on the board for TOPSoccer, am the program manager for OCHS boys soccer and have a family and three dogs. I am attempting to head up the planning of my 30 year class reunion. If all goes as planned it will be a group effort and I will just be doing some delegating. Learning to delegate was one of the best lessons I've ever learned. My family is currently juggling cars since we have four drivers in the house and two somewhat economical cars and a gas guzzling truck. No wonder I get overwhelmed at times. I need to work on time management, reorganizing my priorities and being more organized when it comes to cooking, cleaning and the mundane things that have to stay as part of my life whether I find them interesting or not.
It seemed pretty boring to anyone but me. Yes, it would be helpful for me to go through what I do, what I don't do, what I need to change, what I want to keep and yada, yada, yada. It seems pretty boring to anyone who would have to listen. Maybe some things just need to be worked out in my own head.
After boring myself with that one I tried another one. I wanted to be funny again. I like it when I can write things that make people laugh. This one wasn't even given a title, so it was doomed from the start:
I think I lost my sense of humor recently. I have been looking everywhere for it, but it isn't in any of the usual places. I hate taking myself seriously. I guess I am supposed to--I just turned 48 which is just a number. I need to get over the fact that it is definitely middle aged. My early 40's didn't bug me; I felt a little more adultish but not ancient. I realize that 48 isn't ancient by any means, but it is alarmingly close to 50. I have high hopes for my 50's, but what about my 60's, 70's and 80's. I need to start getting a little more serious about those healthy changes I always daydream about making. My reading glasses have gone from helpful to necessary, I have occasional short hot flashes which are irritating and I'm starting to get a little more forgetful. It would be interesting to know how many times I actually put deodorant on in the morning. I can never remember if I did--I bet there are mornings when I put it on three times. I guess over doing it is better than not putting any on.
On New Year's Eve I befriended a very nice tribe of guys in their early 20's. They were amazingly sweet in their acceptance of my desire to try out their drinking game. It was a roleplaying game similar to Dungeons and Dragons, only it was made specifically for drinking. I wasn't wearing my glasses so I couldn't read the cards without help. I actually understood it more after a few drinks.
Again, the path of this one is a mystery.
I made one last feeble attempt yesterday when I became overwhelmed with the number of books that I have on reaching my goals. Again, no title:
My name is Lana Luke and I am addicted to Non-Fiction Self-Help books. I think I am going through some kind of mid-life crisis. I have some great books that I am sure would be very helpful in enlightening me on how to meet my many goals if I would just open them! Heck, if I would just take a stack of them and lift them twenty times per day with each arm I would probably get a decent work out. I love reading. I just happen to love reading really good Fictional books with colorful characters who sweep me away to a different world where I can traipse around for awhile to forget what is piling up in my own world. If I open one of the Non-Fiction books it is going to want me to actually do something that will make a change. I am great at making big changes for a day or two. I then fall back into my old, comfortable habits because I am too busy to actually have to think about implementing those changes daily.
This brings me to today. I woke up and decided to exorcise these unfinished drafts. I would put them all together and maybe, just maybe get an idea for my next blog post. So as random as it is--this is it. All I have for you today. Maybe tomorrow will be more productive.
On January 8th of last year I wrote this:
I don't know if it was because I was an overly imaginative child or just a freak, but I can remember writing dialog in my head from an early age. I would be going through life as if I were in a book or a movie. Sometimes it drove me crazy and I would try to make it go away. That stupid voice inside my head would never shut up! Just my subconscious working overtime, not weird voices or anything sinister. I don't know if I ever learned to live in the "now" because I was always trying to be two steps ahead and plotting out the next scene. When I was in the fourth grade I had this wonderful young teacher named Mrs. Kiriu. She was a pretty Asian woman who made that year magical. It was 1976, so the Bicentennial was a big deal. We made homemade bread, root beer and butter. We also did a lot of writing in class. She was the first person to say that I had a talent for writing. It is funny how one kind word or positive comment can make a huge impact. I started keeping a journal, writing poetry and planning my novel. My novel would be about being adopted. I always felt that being adopted made me different and the last thing I wanted to be in grade school was different. If you were different people noticed and laughed at you. Elementary school kids can be cruel. I learned to blend in and be part of the pack, but always felt on the outside fringe. It never mattered if I was well liked, got good grades or did passably good in sports--I was the freak on the inside reporting life in my head as it went by. I wanted to believe that I was special and would do great things, but no matter how special I tried to be I felt overly ordinary and never quite good enough. Writing was something that I felt I just might be really good at. It was a way to express myself. I have always been better at putting my feelings on paper than trying to verbalize them.
Writing was a big thing for me in jr. high, high school and even the year of college that I did right after high school. I didn't get a whole lot of guidance from the counselor in high school. I am sure most of it was my fault for being a daydreamer who was overly boy crazy. I think he advised me to get married and be a housewife. My parents couldn't afford college and I knew absolutely nothing about scholarships or financial aid. I didn't have the focus and the drive that many of my friends had. I was content with the plan my parents gave me of going to Clark College in Vancouver. My creative writing teacher at Clark loved my work, I was also a reporter for the college newspaper and things were going well. I had started writing for the school newspaper in jr. high and thought maybe journalism would be a good avenue for me. I learned quickly that I didn't have the cut throat personality that it took to be a successful journalist.
And there it ended. I'm not sure why. This is an unedited draft, but it wasn't terrible. It might be the fact that the spring of 1985 while writing in college, I had one of the most painful times in my life. For whatever reason, this is as far as that blog entry made it. It has sat in cyberspace for a year with the word "draft" attached to it. It was never sent out into the world like other blog posts.
On the 21st of April there is a "draft" called Invisible. I must have really felt invisible because there is not one word written. If I wrote anything at all except for the title, I deleted it. Not sure what was going through my head. Invisible in itself says a lot. Curiously enough on the same exact day there is another title only post that says "Kitten". Unlike "Invisible", I do remember exactly what "Kitten" was going to be about. In April I found out that an ex-neighbor was going to be in White Salmon doing a public Psychic Reading event at the grange. My aunt showed me the article in the newspaper and was mildly curious. When I saw the name of the kid it brought back memories. We lived in a house on the main street that runs through White Salmon. It was a three story older house that was divided into two living spaces. My family rented the top two stories and the bottom story was an apartment that had a wooden porch. There were three kids who lived next to us. A girl who was a year older than me, a boy who was a year younger and then another boy who was three. That was pretty young compared to my advanced seven years. My cat had kittens and they lived in a bed on our covered porch. The porch wrapped around the side of the house and looked out over the side yard a story below. One day when we were gone the three year old neighbor boy took three of the the five kittens and dropped them over the side of the porch. The kittens were young and miraculously two survived. One did not. It hit the wooden porch below and died. I was devastated. That was my only memory of this three year old boy until he showed up in the paper forty years later as a psychic medium who sees ghosts. He says it began when he was a small child living in a haunted house. Was the house next to me haunted? What possessed him to throw my kittens off of a porch? I was tempted to buy the expensive ticket to see him speak just so that I could ask these questions. Of course then I rethought it and decided that I would sound like a raving lunatic and saved my money. I do wonder though.
On May 20th I decided that the half finished novel on my computer was boring and needed a complete revamp if it was ever going to be anything more than a file that takes up space on my hard drive. I thought of a new beginning for it and a way to make it seem more viable. I started writing it as a blog post and only got one paragraph done. This is fictional--I have never been tied up in the trunk of a car before!
They say that curiosity killed the cat. Like most people, I have heard that phrase my entire life. I was born curious and never really thought of it as a bad thing until now. I have learned a lot through curiosity, but have also uncovered a few things that probably would have been better left alone. My newest escapade has landed me in the trunk of a car with a knot on the back of my head. I should be freaking out, but I am unnaturally calm. I'm not sure if it is shock or acceptance. It better not be acceptance, I am not ready to die. I am only 42 years old, I have a family who needs me and too many things left to do in life. I can't believe how trusting I am--curiosity is one thing, but add naivety and empathy and that seems to make me a big target.
My so called novel is still taking up space on my hard drive and need more work than ever as part of it is rewritten in the first person but the majority of it isn't. It is still half finished and in serious need of some time and TLC. It is tough to say whether or not it will get the attention it needs in 2014. I started a project with my writing group that they felt was a more interesting start to a novel.
In August I started one called "Bad Dog Blues". Like others it didn't get far at all. It simply starts:
In this world of Reality TV,
Yes, that is really how far it got. I know what I wanted to write about. I just wanted to do some research and haven't found the time. I was upset because of the preconceived notions that people have about Pit Bulls. I happen to love my very sweet Pit Bull who has a big heart and loves everyone. The looks and comments that people aim towards him are completely unfair. They don't know him. It is discrimination and shows me a little more how certain people feel when they are judged by their outer appearance. People like to generalize groups of people due to their looks, their social status, education, sexual preference, religious beliefs or whatever box they want to put them into. Every dog, just like every person, has their own unique personality and worth. Generalizing, discriminating, having perceptions pertaining to appearances are hurtful. Those with narrow views are also hurting themselves because they are missing out on some pretty worthwhile dogs, people or whatever. Again, just a rant that sometimes goes through my head when I see my dog hated because of his breed, me dismissed because of my age and/or weight and other perfectly awesome people shut down because they don't fit a certain standard that is supposed to be acceptable. I'm not sure if any of that made sense. Maybe that is why the blog post didn't get very far!
September found me wanting to rant again with a post that was going to be titled "Missing the Simple Life". Not sure where it was going to go from it's first paragraph since that is as far as it got, but this is how it started:
I am a fan of social media when it is used in a positive manner such as keeping in touch with friends and family, sharing pictures and marketing for your business. Networking is imperative these days to making it in any business. Everyone is connected. What I'm not a fan of is cyber bullying, scam artists and hateful ranting on public sites. Hiding behind a computer should not automatically make you immune to being a decent human being. Anonymous or not, you should still have morals and boundaries. I am constantly amazed at the ignorance, arrogance and blatant poison that people unleash on the world through chat rooms, public forums and sometimes on your own personal pages.
I do get passionate when trying to defend others. Again, not sure why I was up in arms or what my message that day was going to be. Things did seem a lot less complicated before everyone was connected through the internet. Though it is a wonderful thing, it can be used for so much bad as well.
Those were my only unfinished drafts until yesterday when I started three and then found them all lacking. The first one was titled "Finding Balance in 2014".
It seems that the first thing I am really going to have to work on this year is balance. I know I've worked on it before, but life is constantly changing so staying balanced is often a challenge for me. I have not worked full time in over twenty years. It is crazy to realize that it has been that long. Now that I am working more and adding a steady paycheck I need to think about how to best use my time outside of work. It is difficult when you have so many interests and dozens of options. I hate giving anything up but may have to so that I don't fall flat on my face.
I started off the year belonging to two bunco groups, two book groups, a writing group, a meditation group and a paranormal group. I also am on the board for TOPSoccer, am the program manager for OCHS boys soccer and have a family and three dogs. I am attempting to head up the planning of my 30 year class reunion. If all goes as planned it will be a group effort and I will just be doing some delegating. Learning to delegate was one of the best lessons I've ever learned. My family is currently juggling cars since we have four drivers in the house and two somewhat economical cars and a gas guzzling truck. No wonder I get overwhelmed at times. I need to work on time management, reorganizing my priorities and being more organized when it comes to cooking, cleaning and the mundane things that have to stay as part of my life whether I find them interesting or not.
It seemed pretty boring to anyone but me. Yes, it would be helpful for me to go through what I do, what I don't do, what I need to change, what I want to keep and yada, yada, yada. It seems pretty boring to anyone who would have to listen. Maybe some things just need to be worked out in my own head.
After boring myself with that one I tried another one. I wanted to be funny again. I like it when I can write things that make people laugh. This one wasn't even given a title, so it was doomed from the start:
I think I lost my sense of humor recently. I have been looking everywhere for it, but it isn't in any of the usual places. I hate taking myself seriously. I guess I am supposed to--I just turned 48 which is just a number. I need to get over the fact that it is definitely middle aged. My early 40's didn't bug me; I felt a little more adultish but not ancient. I realize that 48 isn't ancient by any means, but it is alarmingly close to 50. I have high hopes for my 50's, but what about my 60's, 70's and 80's. I need to start getting a little more serious about those healthy changes I always daydream about making. My reading glasses have gone from helpful to necessary, I have occasional short hot flashes which are irritating and I'm starting to get a little more forgetful. It would be interesting to know how many times I actually put deodorant on in the morning. I can never remember if I did--I bet there are mornings when I put it on three times. I guess over doing it is better than not putting any on.
On New Year's Eve I befriended a very nice tribe of guys in their early 20's. They were amazingly sweet in their acceptance of my desire to try out their drinking game. It was a roleplaying game similar to Dungeons and Dragons, only it was made specifically for drinking. I wasn't wearing my glasses so I couldn't read the cards without help. I actually understood it more after a few drinks.
Again, the path of this one is a mystery.
I made one last feeble attempt yesterday when I became overwhelmed with the number of books that I have on reaching my goals. Again, no title:
My name is Lana Luke and I am addicted to Non-Fiction Self-Help books. I think I am going through some kind of mid-life crisis. I have some great books that I am sure would be very helpful in enlightening me on how to meet my many goals if I would just open them! Heck, if I would just take a stack of them and lift them twenty times per day with each arm I would probably get a decent work out. I love reading. I just happen to love reading really good Fictional books with colorful characters who sweep me away to a different world where I can traipse around for awhile to forget what is piling up in my own world. If I open one of the Non-Fiction books it is going to want me to actually do something that will make a change. I am great at making big changes for a day or two. I then fall back into my old, comfortable habits because I am too busy to actually have to think about implementing those changes daily.
This brings me to today. I woke up and decided to exorcise these unfinished drafts. I would put them all together and maybe, just maybe get an idea for my next blog post. So as random as it is--this is it. All I have for you today. Maybe tomorrow will be more productive.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Looking Back Before Moving Forward
As 2014 begins I am taking a look back on the roller coaster year that was 2013 and choosing to remember the highs as I let go of the lows. Low points were Kyle's soccer injury, the re-injuring of the knee and then the additional second and third surgeries needed to repair the damage. I had to work through the stages of grief along with Kyle as we were thankful that it was repairable, but sad because it was a senseless hit that caused it in the first place, the pain and the lost opportunities. I believe that in the end he will come out a stronger person and for that I am grateful. He has a new appreciation for things that he used to take for granted. Another low point was my failed attempt to help a friend by going on the Dr. Phil show. I learned a very important lesson about boundaries, imposing your beliefs on someone whether they are right or wrong and thinking that I could miraculously heal my friends' hurts. You can't save someone who doesn't believe that they need saving. It was painful to watch and even more painful to walk away.
Highlights of 2013 were the fun day spent in Hollywood with Angie, my dad's 80th birthday party, my trip to San Jose' with Linette so see Bon Jovi, having my last summer group be a big success, our multi-class reunion, Kyle getting his license, our grand-daughter, Piper being born, me getting a new job and our trip to Idaho over Christmas to meet Piper. I know I am probably forgetting a few other awesome things that happened during the year, but these are the ones, in order, that I can remember off of the top of my head.
I made a detailed list of the things I hoped to accomplish during 2013. As usual I was very ambitious and loaded it with more than was humanly possible. Of course the list itself is in the back of a notebook that I left at work, so I can't even pour over it to grade myself on my progress or lack of. I do know that I did accomplish some of the things and am happy for any successes. I know there are others that will carry over to 2014--not as resolutions, but as aspirations--things to strive for. If they happen, great, if they don't, I won't beat myself up. I have beat myself up way too much in the past. 2014 is a year to be gentle to myself, to try to be more health conscious, gain some energy, meditate more and maybe finally start being more serious about yoga and hiking which have embarrassingly enough have been on my list for at least four years. I will get to it. Just like I will get to writing. When the time is right, it will happen. All that I can do is de-clutter my life so that space opens up for things that would serve me better. I will have to drop a few things now that I am working full time. I haven't worked full time in over 20 years. Being a mom with a zillion little part-time jobs has been adventurous, but I'm ready to contribute more to decreasing the debt load in this house. Being a professional volunteer has been fun and I have met a lot of great people, learned a lot of awesome skills and have had some amazing experiences. I need to start thinking of the next chapter though.
I am hoping to write more in 2014. I started off writing at least one blog post per week in 2013. The content doesn't matter as much as the act itself. Getting me to sit down in front of a computer and write is the goal. Maybe one of these days I will take one of the several different novels that I have in varying stages and follow through with it. I was supposed to finish something in 2013. It didn't happen. I believe I put too much pressure on myself and that alone sucks any creativity out of me. I need to be able to relax and let whatever story wants to be told come automatically. I am starting to ramble. I am hoping that my over-thinking brain will calm down now that the holidays are over and start thinking of fun Blog topics for the new year. I miss the light funny ones--I hope I am able to create a few of those this year. Thanks for hanging in there and sharing the journey. I hope that 2014 holds some adventures for you as well. Let yourself imagine the possibilities then throw in a few aspirations.......
Highlights of 2013 were the fun day spent in Hollywood with Angie, my dad's 80th birthday party, my trip to San Jose' with Linette so see Bon Jovi, having my last summer group be a big success, our multi-class reunion, Kyle getting his license, our grand-daughter, Piper being born, me getting a new job and our trip to Idaho over Christmas to meet Piper. I know I am probably forgetting a few other awesome things that happened during the year, but these are the ones, in order, that I can remember off of the top of my head.
I made a detailed list of the things I hoped to accomplish during 2013. As usual I was very ambitious and loaded it with more than was humanly possible. Of course the list itself is in the back of a notebook that I left at work, so I can't even pour over it to grade myself on my progress or lack of. I do know that I did accomplish some of the things and am happy for any successes. I know there are others that will carry over to 2014--not as resolutions, but as aspirations--things to strive for. If they happen, great, if they don't, I won't beat myself up. I have beat myself up way too much in the past. 2014 is a year to be gentle to myself, to try to be more health conscious, gain some energy, meditate more and maybe finally start being more serious about yoga and hiking which have embarrassingly enough have been on my list for at least four years. I will get to it. Just like I will get to writing. When the time is right, it will happen. All that I can do is de-clutter my life so that space opens up for things that would serve me better. I will have to drop a few things now that I am working full time. I haven't worked full time in over 20 years. Being a mom with a zillion little part-time jobs has been adventurous, but I'm ready to contribute more to decreasing the debt load in this house. Being a professional volunteer has been fun and I have met a lot of great people, learned a lot of awesome skills and have had some amazing experiences. I need to start thinking of the next chapter though.
I am hoping to write more in 2014. I started off writing at least one blog post per week in 2013. The content doesn't matter as much as the act itself. Getting me to sit down in front of a computer and write is the goal. Maybe one of these days I will take one of the several different novels that I have in varying stages and follow through with it. I was supposed to finish something in 2013. It didn't happen. I believe I put too much pressure on myself and that alone sucks any creativity out of me. I need to be able to relax and let whatever story wants to be told come automatically. I am starting to ramble. I am hoping that my over-thinking brain will calm down now that the holidays are over and start thinking of fun Blog topics for the new year. I miss the light funny ones--I hope I am able to create a few of those this year. Thanks for hanging in there and sharing the journey. I hope that 2014 holds some adventures for you as well. Let yourself imagine the possibilities then throw in a few aspirations.......
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