Category: Uncategorized

It’s funny how fans separate and sort themselves out.  For example:  I heard and loved Duran Duran’s music a full two years before I decided (and yes, it was a willful decision in order to keep the approval of my best friend.  when I first saw them, they frightened me.) to have crushes on them.  Thus, my fandom is superior to someone whose attraction to the band started with their looks.  However, though I was given a number of rarities as gifts, I have only ever bought the studio albums and two videotapes when I was in junior high, so my fandom is inferior to those who have every B-side, Japanese special, and live rarity.  And, I’ve only gone to three of their shows, so my fandom is inferior to those who never miss a local performance.  Then, there are the super fanatics who attempt to collect bodily fluids, and they feel superior to the rest of the fans, but the rest of the fans know better.  Got me?

I overheard these two little girls arguing over which of them was the better One Direction fan, and it made me smile.  Things like that are very important when you are thirteen!  I considered sharing the above with them, but decided that having an old lady butt in on their heated discussion would only ruin their fun.  Because, when you are thirteen, not only are those conversations serious and important, they are also great entertainment.

It’s the same thing with sports.  People who love the Yankees for the rich history of the team’s players feel superior to those who love the team for the number of wins.  People who loved the Mavs when the Mavs were in the toilet feel superior to those who jumped on the bandwagon in 2011.  Ditto Rangers fans.  (I love the Braves because they were my grandfather’s team–and Mark Wholers was my first sports crush, and the Yankees because they are my mother’s team, and I like the Rangers because of Stockholm Syndrome.)

I pretty much admit inferiority in all things fandom.

Ehow.com has some great tips for Body Surfing.  I have a very strong recollection of being hit in the snout by a wave, and pushed under while it cycled to shore.  You only need to get tossed around like a starfish one time to understand the power of a current.  It is terrifying to be sucked under water and drawn along with the flow, but the best thing you can do is stay calm, keep a clear head, ride the stream and remember not to inhale.  In most cases, you’ll pop right back up when the wave cycle has ended, but not before you have time to think about all the things you’ve never done.  Know what I mean?

Ehow makes these suggestions:

1. Figure out where the waves are breaking and position yourself slightly beyond them.
2. Swim in the same direction as an approaching wave so that the wave overtakes you just before it breaks. Freestyle (crawl) is the best stroke for this.
3. Decide which direction (right or left) you want to ride once you feel the wave begin to grab you. It’s OK to go straight, but a much better, longer ride is achieved by heading away from the breaking part of the wave.
4. Stop stroking, but keep kicking. Extend one arm forward (right if you’re going right, left if you’re going left), with your palm down and breaking the surface of the water.
5. Streamline your body and continue riding the wave as long as desired – or until your face is plowing through sandcastles.

Those are actually good directions for how to handle an onslaught of bad luck.  Listen, you can’t stop a wave.  The wave is coming.  You can shout, scream, cry, wave your arms, jump up and down; the wave is coming.  You can try to fight it and get beaten up by it, or you can eye it, size it up, and figure out how you’re going to position yourself to end up on top of it.  And when you’re riding the crest of it, you’ll be able to see everything below you, including the sea floor exposed during the wave cycle.  You’ll be better set to land on your feet at the shore.

1. Figure out the root of the problem you’re facing.  Treating symptoms doesn’t cure the cold.  Find the root, get behind it.
2. Move forward with the grain of the problem, picking up solutions as you do.  Vaccinations are made from the disease.
3. Decide how you want this to end.  Picture what you want for an outcome, then aim toward it.
4. Get focused and don’t panic.  Keep calm and carry on.  Do what you know is the right thing to do.  The right behaviors will bring the right results.
5. Be prepared for the end to come, and know that sometimes you land hard.  Just know that the next step is getting back up, and getting back out there.

Our house is an albatross.  See that up there?  We’ve had renters in the house, and now we do not.  The property management group has rekeyed the locks, and I don’t have a copy of the key yet, so I can’t go all the way inside, but I took this picture from the glass in my back door.  That big hunk of white metal that is sticking out from under the counter?  That used to be a dish washer.  I’m not sure what it is now.  I’m afraid to see the refrigerator.

But that’s not what I’m writing about.

I posted that picture on Facebook, and not much later two of my friends arrived.  I had not asked them to come.  In fact, I’d told one of them to stay home.  But you know what friends do?  Friends ignore you when you need to be ignored, and friends just show up when it is warranted.  Emily came bearing mango.  Chey came bearing her husband.  Both of them came to make sure I was okay and was not walking into a disaster alone.

And my friends on Facebook showed up for support, too.

I wanted to give all these people a shout out for making me laugh when I really just wanted to cry, and for keeping me company, and for caring about me in general.

Thank you all.  For showing up, for showing support, for being outraged on my behalf, for loving me, and for caring.  It means a lot!

Thanks to Emily for turning me on to Bountiful Baskets!  This will likely cut my produce spending in half.  Possibly more, since I am learning more about cooking produce.

In a few days, I will roll out a whole new article about Emily’s latest endeavor with her friend Adriane.  Together, they have created Basement Baubles, a place where you can reimagine your favorite old, out of date, or broken jewelry into something stylish and new.  Emily had on a pair of earrings the other night, and I went berserk over them.  They turned out to be Adriane-reimagined from an older piece she had, and they were amazing.  For right now, here is the link to their store.

I am working on my 1lb a week goal again…again.  I’m not going to be posting about it here, though.  I have started a discussion group over on My Fitness Pal, and you are welcome to join us there!  It’s called 1 a Week.  I’m creative like that.

My husband is probably really happy that I am 41-years-old because as I have been cruising part-time job ads, I have lingered over a few jobs in the Navy Reserves.  Alas, I am elderly in the eyes of the military.  Unless I want to be a Chaplain.  And, I don’t.  I don’t think I would be of much comfort to anyone asking why, since my answers would be less spiritual and more along the lines of, “well, when a government really, really wants some oil…”

Having once found solace in the idea that my steps were pre-ordered, I understand why that is a comfort.  And I understand that there is comfort in the idea that the most horrible things happen for some greater reason, but truly, sometimes the reason is just that someone, somewhere is a sociopath.  I don’t believe that everything happens for a specific, greater purpose, but I do believe that if you are willing to offer up your pain as a sacrifice, you can use it to a greater good.

What do I mean? 

Marion Zirkle is a missionary who lost nearly her whole family in a plane crash–that’s the worst thing I can imagine happening to me.  I attended one of her meetings and heard her speak on the loss, and listened to her talk about how there were mornings when her heart hurt so badly, she thought it would burst with pain, and about how some mornings, it was all she could do to convince herself to even sit up in the bed, much less put her feet on the floor.  She talked about making every movement a sacrifice to God, and letting him work through every footstep.  Life goes on, and you have the choice to quit it and let it pass over you, or get on with it and make it something different and good.

I admired her attitude.  Of course, I never want the opportunity to follow in her footsteps, and never want the opportunity to put it into practice in my own life, but in the small ways, I attempt to follow her example.

That’s what my Chaplain-ry advice would be.  It’s the gentle version of, “Suck it up, and keep walking.”  It’s not an easy answer, though.  Then, I don’t believe in easy answers.

I made my peace about my faith a long time ago, and my peace is that my faith grows and evolves along with the rest of me.  I decided to follow the teachings of Jesus and not worry about the sweet by-and-by, or Noah’s ark, or Gideon’s fleece, or hellfires and damnations.  I may as well be Thomas Jefferson, which is to say that I would make a crap Chaplain in the denomination of my studies. 

That, and I say crap a lot.