I'm really not political... honestly... but I did watch the President's State of the Union address the other night. I watched mostly because it was on right after Biggest Loser and because there wasn't really anything else on at that time that I wanted to see. He said something that resonated with me (see my 2010 blog "I'm just sayin...") and I wanted to mention it here. He said we should celebrate the winners of the science fair like we celebrate the winners of the Super Bowl (paraphrase) and I just want to say that I agree that we (myself included) have placed a high priority on the sports entertainment industry, and entertainment in general, to the exclusion of more important things like education, poverty, etc.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to sit here and spout off some idealistic rhetoric as if I'm not going to watch the Super Bowl next weekend; I'm just suggesting that we should be mindful of how we prioritize life and be sure to keep sports in proper perspective.
Sitting on the dock
June 2010
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Lose Yourself
Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity
to seize everything you ever wanted - One moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip? [Eminem, Lose Yourself, 2002]
Believe it or not, this song (clean version) is the first track on the workout playlist on my iPod. I probably don't seem like the typical Eminem fan... overweight, farsighted, 46 year old woman... and I guess I'm not really a fan of pottymouth rapper boy BUT this song never fails to morph me into a workout maniac no matter how crappy I feel when I get to the gym. I mean, if the song is true and the movie that this song is from (8-mile which I did not see) documents the truth of his journey from mobile home park to stardom, then I guess he has something that I'd like for myself... guts, courage, persistence, dedication, motivation, fight, perseverence.
But for now, I'm going to take a couple of ibuprofen and curl up with a good heating pad.
to seize everything you ever wanted - One moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip? [Eminem, Lose Yourself, 2002]
Believe it or not, this song (clean version) is the first track on the workout playlist on my iPod. I probably don't seem like the typical Eminem fan... overweight, farsighted, 46 year old woman... and I guess I'm not really a fan of pottymouth rapper boy BUT this song never fails to morph me into a workout maniac no matter how crappy I feel when I get to the gym. I mean, if the song is true and the movie that this song is from (8-mile which I did not see) documents the truth of his journey from mobile home park to stardom, then I guess he has something that I'd like for myself... guts, courage, persistence, dedication, motivation, fight, perseverence.
But for now, I'm going to take a couple of ibuprofen and curl up with a good heating pad.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
On burning one's journals
This morning on the bus on my way to work I mused about writing, as I often do, and I was suddenly struck with a memory of the night, about five years ago, that I burned (shredded actually) every single diary and journal I had written in my youth. (!!!!) This does seem a bit shocking in retrospect, especially because what I was musing about on the bus was a question of whether I might, at some point in my future, write my memoir or at least a semi-autobiographical work of fiction at which time I would find myself regretting having shredded my personal written history. I asked myself, "Will I remember what I need to remember if I ever need to remember it?" To which I immediately answered, "Probably not and thank the dear Lord for that!"
I recall the journal-shredding evening quite clearly. It wasn't pretty. I remember being very, very depressed. Over what I don't recall but it must have had something to do with or been somehow related to my past. I pulled out the lockbox that contained all those diaries and journals, sat down on the floor, and read them, page by page, book by book. I remember loathing - no that's not too strong a word for it - the person who wrote all those words. How it drove me crazy to read that every single boy I met made me act stupid (writing my first name with his last name) and every argument with my parents made me feel helpless (I could never win). The shame and embarrassment of being a member of Weight Watchers at the age of 13 - back when I still had hope that one day I'd be thin. The pain and heartache of girlfriends who invited everyone but me.
As I progressed through the journals the immaturity left but the painful memories didn't. Heartbreak, arguments, weight problems, dysfuntional relationships, they were all there in my somewhat more matured life, and I still couldn't stand the person that wrote about them. Furthermore, every mistake, every embarrassment, every sin, was there on those pages for anyone to read if they ever got into that lockbox. That was certainly not anything I wanted my children to see someday! Oh dear what a frightening thought.
No, I don't regret shredding all that history. The way I see it, if I ever do write my memoirs or even a semi-autobiographical work of fiction, and they actually do get published, I plan to take some literary license and make them sound a whole lot better than they actually were!
I recall the journal-shredding evening quite clearly. It wasn't pretty. I remember being very, very depressed. Over what I don't recall but it must have had something to do with or been somehow related to my past. I pulled out the lockbox that contained all those diaries and journals, sat down on the floor, and read them, page by page, book by book. I remember loathing - no that's not too strong a word for it - the person who wrote all those words. How it drove me crazy to read that every single boy I met made me act stupid (writing my first name with his last name) and every argument with my parents made me feel helpless (I could never win). The shame and embarrassment of being a member of Weight Watchers at the age of 13 - back when I still had hope that one day I'd be thin. The pain and heartache of girlfriends who invited everyone but me.
As I progressed through the journals the immaturity left but the painful memories didn't. Heartbreak, arguments, weight problems, dysfuntional relationships, they were all there in my somewhat more matured life, and I still couldn't stand the person that wrote about them. Furthermore, every mistake, every embarrassment, every sin, was there on those pages for anyone to read if they ever got into that lockbox. That was certainly not anything I wanted my children to see someday! Oh dear what a frightening thought.
No, I don't regret shredding all that history. The way I see it, if I ever do write my memoirs or even a semi-autobiographical work of fiction, and they actually do get published, I plan to take some literary license and make them sound a whole lot better than they actually were!
Friday, November 26, 2010
a favorite thing
Not really that into raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens or bright copper kettles, though I know for certain I have enjoyed my warm woolen mittens here in Wisconsin.
Thanksgiving may possibly be my favorite holiday mainly because of the food but also because of family and friends. Yesterday was no exception. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes, butter carrots, biscuits, cranberry sauce. Husband, Daughters, Sons, Grandbabies, Friends... my literal and figurative plate was full yesterday. And if that wasn't enough, Abby and Bella stayed overnight and we spent the morning playing. At one point Bella decided she wanted to be held for awhile and then I remembered one of my absolutely favorite things... a baby falling asleep in my arms. Ahhhhh... thank you Lord for moments like this.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Just one more...
While sitting in the lobby at Pizza Hut one night...
ME: "Oh Abby, it's getting cold in here. Are you cold honey? There's a draft coming in the door."
ABBY (turning quickly to look at the door): "Oma, there's no giraffe coming in the door!"
ME: "Oh Abby, it's getting cold in here. Are you cold honey? There's a draft coming in the door."
ABBY (turning quickly to look at the door): "Oma, there's no giraffe coming in the door!"
Thankful
Summer... poof! Autumn... poof! Where does the time go? In 28 hours it will be Thanksgiving Day. I would like to share-in no particular order-the things for which I am and have been giving thanks to God.
My health. Bella's health after a rough start. Aaron's health. My Mom's new knees. Numerous sweet and cherished moments with my grand-daughters. The blessing of a fourth grandbaby "in the oven". My darling husband/best friend. A new job (at the same company) that challenges the daylights out of me. My Pastor and my church family. All of my children... birthed, step and in-law... who are a constant reminder of the reality of Eph3:20 in my life. Girlfriends. Books. Coffee. Laughter. Birds. Music. The fact that none of my needs is unmet.
My health. Bella's health after a rough start. Aaron's health. My Mom's new knees. Numerous sweet and cherished moments with my grand-daughters. The blessing of a fourth grandbaby "in the oven". My darling husband/best friend. A new job (at the same company) that challenges the daylights out of me. My Pastor and my church family. All of my children... birthed, step and in-law... who are a constant reminder of the reality of Eph3:20 in my life. Girlfriends. Books. Coffee. Laughter. Birds. Music. The fact that none of my needs is unmet.
Burned by Blogger [save]
It's been awhile. Want to know why? [save] I was burned by my blog. Back on July 26th, a day that will live in infamy in the City of Milwaukee, we had a crazy weather day. It rained, and rained, and rained. Thunder, lightning, rain, hail... it was bad. I left the office at 4:5opm and didn't pull into my garage until shortly before midnight. [save]I could not seem to get north of Hampton Avenue no matter which way I tried (and believe me... I tried!). It was frustrating and frightening. It was the strangest experience I think I've ever had in terms of weather. After a day or two of gathering my thoughts, I wrote a lengthy blog and included pictures of my experience that night. [save] It was, if I may say so myself, a masterpiece of literary genius. Okay... it was pretty good. [save] But in the flicker of an internet hiccup it was gone! All that work. All those carefully selected and ordered words... gone! [save] Word to the wise: auto-save on blogger cannot be trusted to [save].