Painfully Numb

I am still painfully numb. Well, that doesn't quite describe it, but I'm the same as last night. Going to get horizontal and hope that tomorrow brings relief. Guess I'll lather up with good ole Ben Gay and call it a night.

Sweet Dreams, All.

OH! I did do some work in the new production office (our home office). I also found some more job leads, so all may not be lost as far as that stupid $6,000/$3,000 situation. I'm trying as hard as I know how to. sigh.

OK, off with me. Take care. Good Luck in whatever you're up to.

Numb

Because the lower half of my body was was in pain and numb all at the same time, this is my post. It hurts to sit. I can be up and moving, or I can be horizontal. Sitting is not good no matter if I'm using the desk chairs, the core ball, my bed, a kitchen chair or the leather easy chair.

This is going to make blogging interesting.

Of course, this means that I am now moving around after sleeping most of the day. The sleeping and moving around has helped. I'm off to move around some more.

Found out that our house is being used to film in starting the 14th. LOL - OK, then. Well, the metal cabinet in the office is now an equipment cabinet. The office is becoming a film office. Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

Hope all are having a wonderful weekend. I am.

OK, up with me. Sweet dreams. Be safe1

Cease Fire: Love and Lists

The First Day of a Cease Fire is hard... unless you sleep most of the day.

Abandoned previously made plans. Formulated new plan with the Henry Kissinger of Familial Peace Negotiations, SA. She suggested that we make a list and even offered to write it down for us. I was dumbfounded at my son's enthusiastic acceptance of Her List Suggestion.

People, here's a clue that your child is in love. When your child reacts to an idea their beloved suggests as though it's a brilliant idea that your child has never heard before; EVEN THOUGH, your child grew up in your house, and you know you suggested the same idea at least three times a week for at least 15 years of your child's life: This means your child is in love. Got it?

When your child's beloved enthusiastically promotes the brilliance of their suggestion, unaware of the familial history; take a deep breath and interject quickly when the beloved finally takes a breath of their own, "Yes. It's a wonderful idea that I've often used myself. DO NOT point out right away, NOR bitch about the familial history of the idea. Got it? (Repeat previous sentence to yourself until it is ingrained in your brain.) Let the moment be. Quietly relish the fact that THE LESSON HAS BEEN LEARNED! Quietly, discretely take this in. Overt celebration may undo the lesson, so keep it on the down-low. Act, Damn It! It's for the common good.

So with LIST in hand, we go forward to conquer our "homework" on Tuesday.

Y-AWNING!

Thanks to my son (from now on known as BB) and his girlfriend (from now on known as SA), I accomplished a goal that I've had for years today. I got all the awnings up that would go together. Three out of four have survived. They've been sitting in my basement for a decade or so. I'm sure I'm not exaggerating. They are airing out along with BB's tent. My yard looks like it's ready for a party. Hmmmmmmm.

I not even tempted to sleep in the tent tonight. I would be if it had been cleaned out by the film crew that it was lent to, but it wasn't; so I'll opt for my comfy bed. Besides, I need to get the rest of the camping gear out of the basement and aired out.



I'm grouchy, dirty, and tired. It was a bitch getting the last awning up.

Years ago, my dad worked for a company that made these things. The largest one is a gazebo. It has two sets of legs; one set has rubber ends, and the other set can be bolted to concrete or a deck, I suppose.



The other two are Port-A-Shades and have handy bags for all the pieces making storage and transport very convenient.



The last time they were up, a giant wind storm came up and one of the gazebos got rolled across the back yard. We had enough pieces to get one gazebo up. That's OK because one awning had rust stains and a hole in it.

OF COURSE AFTER WE GOT THEM ALL UP, I FOUND THE INSTRUCTIONS.

Poor SA. I was so happy when she stopped acting scared and told BB and me to stop acting like five year olds.

BB had hurt my feelings and made me damn mad when he said, "I hate working with you."

We'd been going at each other the whole time until she said that. He did not want to be working with me and was attitudinal. I've never used attitudinal to describe a good mood, so if you haven't heard that one before; this just clears that up.

OMG! Trying to find the words to describe parts, directions, suggestions, and just plain trying to communicate on top of dealing with "the Gandhi of Homework!" It still applies. This was "homework" in the truest sense.

If you're reading this, I'd like you to cut and paste the following link and read the article. I received it from Rebecca, a FB Friend that I've never met in person. It's an amazing article about unconscious sexism. Please read it. It is solid confirmation of how life is different for the sexes.

The Situation of Sexism - The Situationist
http://thesituationist.wordpress.com/2010/05/17/the-situation-of-sexism/

I'd also like everyone to watch the following cartoon about how to save the world. BB sent it to me in a moment of sheer brilliance. Dang. I'm going to have to apologize for being so harsh, maybe. I'm thinking his sarcasm made my retort OK, maybe. I don't know. I did ask him to quit being so silent and attitudinal and let his anger come out in that babbling, funny, true way he has.

"In case you haven't noticed, we've been trying to get out of here for the last fifteen minutes. Is there anything else you're wondering?"

His sarcasm hit me full on. I started to argue with him, but knew nothing good would come of that, so instead I responded with an over-the-top, "Why the Fuck Did I EVER Have Children?!"

BB turned and headed to his car. I turned and headed to the house. SA sat on her car looking in my direction.

"It's OK, SA," I told her. She gets upset when she sees BB and me fight. I told her that I would mentor her out of being afraid around grouchy, loud, arrogant, sarcastic, hard-hitting combatants.

I did get an apology out of him for his mean comment about hating to work with me. I understand where he's coming from. I also understand where I'm coming from. I also understand where my mom is coming from when she asks for my dad's and brother's help. I understand so many of my friends, family and enemies, now. Dang, am I understanding.

Well, maybe I'm not so understanding. I'm back to tense and upset due to "technical difficulties" that are not BB's fault except for the fact that any time I ask him to teach me something about the computer, he doesn't want to. I know, I know. STILL! It's aggravating to the "Nth Degree"!

In any case, here is the link to cut and paste (getting frustrated about my lack of education on this one, too!), so you can watch a brilliant cartoon (some prefer animation) about "How to Save the World." It speaks about mirror neurons, child development, empathic distress, existentialism, religion, history, and much more.

RSA Animate - The Empathic Civilisation
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7AWnfFRc7g&feature=player_embedded

The information contained in these two pieces has changed my life. The following song also changed my life. How did they do it? How did they know what I was thinking? How did they know what my parents were thinking?

Paul McCartney - She's Leaving Home [Red Square'2003]
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JeNA80mo5DI

It's not that I didn't have any fun with my parents and brother in my hometown. I did have a bit of fun in my hometown, but most of my memories of my time there are miserable. I couldn't wait to leave home. I'm so glad I did.

OK, so now I'm not so grouchy 'cause I've tattled and enlightened. What can I say? Not sorry, right Dad. I'm not. I'm not sorry I tattled even though you always told me not to be a tattle-tale. I'm certainly not sorry that I have attempted to enlighten those who stop by here. I'm not sorry because my dad always tells me to stop saying that I'm sorry, so for you, Dad, "I'm NOT Sorry." Guess you come out about even there, Sir.

I'm still sore and dirty, though. It would be a good idea for me to take a shower and go veg. It is after midnight.

I'm even a bit satisfied and grateful, now. Happy is knocking on the door. He's a cutie pie with a good heart, so I'm going to let him in.

HI! HO! Hi! Ho! Hi, ho, hi, ho. It's off to Life I go! (exits whistling because it's her house, and she can)

Fantastic Four!

Today has been a HUGE day.

1. My daughter surprised me with a call and invitation to go to the "rocket park." She brought my granddaughters over, and away we went eventually because ...

2. I got caught up in doing some more research for some writing, so getting ready to go was delayed. My daughter picked out a good play outfit for me while telling me, "It's like having ANOTHER child, Mother." I really should learn to stop doing what I'm into and be more responsible. Really. Definitely when it comes to seeing my daughter, granddaughters and son-in-law; at least. I'll work on it. :D

3. My son got his lens adapter today. He is in Film Geek Heaven. I'll spare you, unless you would like to know about things like HVX, and 1/72 versus 1/84, and more "Letters & Numbers Stuff" that I'm not even sure about. I'm just very happy for my boy who has new "toys" that are really tools. You know the difference between tools and toys, right?

4. My brother got his driver's license back today after eight years of going without. Lesson: Don't Drink & Drive - AND - Life is full of changes, so work hard, do your best, relax, have some fun and just let the good happen. He's done quite a bit of good, hard work on himself and on behalf of others since he sobered up. He's had to accept the loss of some relationships because of his behavior when he was drinking and drugging. He had to make a "loud popping sound" to salvage what he could of his life. He's done pretty darn well. I'm very happy for him. He does deserve to have his license back. I'm happy for his wife and our parents, too. His ability to drive is going to help them, too.

Oh, the back stories behind the four events are all wonderful, but my back and hip are YELLING at me LOUDER than my dear, dear youngest granddaughter. I spent quite a while doing a bit of research on her behalf and have a few thoughts; such as, reading Dr. Harvey Karp's, "The Happiest Baby on the Block" book, getting the DVD from the library, and letting her parents know what I've found out. Poor dear cries so much and is so tense. I know this will pass.

I did get her to relax at the park by doing a "four-count" bouncy dance-walk in the shade. She was smooshed against my belly and breast. I've decided that certain MeeMas are fat; so that their granddaughters can be enveloped in cuddles and coos. You know how it goes; Dance-walking to a 4/4 beat while describing all the stuff around us in my "valium voice." Something about a soothing, smooshy MeeMa. Not exactly motivation to lose weight, but well, at least it's not a reason to hate myself, either.

May 27, 2010 has been a very good day - save some serious pain - but this too shall pass just like the four major good events that happened today. That's what going forward is all about, you know. Guess this is kinda the "Cliff Notes Version of Today."

I wonder what tomorrow will hold. I'm going to make it a very good day because it's another huge anniversary day; 22 years ago the kids and I left LA and moved in with my parents on May 28, 1988. It was the beginning of a new life, but more about that later.

For now, I'm moving forward bolstered by four wonderful events and some fantastic research on behalf of my many loved ones; whether they know it or not. Remember to hang in there, People. There's no way I could've predicted that in two days my world could turn around so dramatically. I did hang in with thoughts of better times, so maybe my positivity had a bit to do with it.... NAH! The ups and downs are a bit tiring, but that's the way my life seems to go. I'm glad that I've learned to ride out the storms and see what the mornings bring.

OH, and let's all take a moment of quiet to think good thoughts, meditate, pray and/or whatever on behalf of the many creatures who could use a good thought and more these days. Here's to capping the oil well in the Gulf, lots of ice for the Polar Bears, plenty of food and water for everyone on this planet, the end to all war, and clean air. Here's to going Forward for 50 More Posts!

Yep. Forward @ 50 just had it's 50th Post. Pretty Great Day Today.

A Pleasant and Productive Day

The boring mundane details of my day are simple enough. Applied for a few jobs, folded laundry, cleaned the kitchen, spent $300 on a car repair, did a bit of grocery shopping, and made fresh coffee, lunch and dinner.

Watched "Rounders" with Matt Damon and Edward Norton and "Layer Cake" with Daniel Craig and Colm Meaney, too.

Now I'm going to kick back and watch a bit of the Giro and head to bed.

Sweet dreams, All.

It is OK

Once upon a time there was a little girl who cried in her bed, looked at her mother and asked, "Mom, do you ever think that this is a dream, and you wish you could just wake up?"

The little girls mother just looked at her daughter, stroked her hair and said, "It will be OK."

It is OK.

BARF!

Better Adjust Reality Filter!

A blog can turn into a vomitorium. Now if you're thinking of the room used for vomiting in ancient Rome, well, so was I; but we are wrong. Seeing the little red line beneath "vomitorium" in the first sentence, I did my usual and went to check my spelling. This time I used Google Search. This is where I learned (through multiple sources) that a vomitorium is "a passage situated below or behind a tier of seats in an amphitheatre, through which crowds can "spew out" at the end of a performance."
(from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vomitorium)

Well then .... no way a blog is going to turn into a vomitorium, but it is still a BARF kinda day.

Technically speaking, I have a goal to meet by June 1st. I'm not confident that I'll meet it. I'm pretty sure that I won't. There is wiggle room, though. It is a personal goal, so ... The REAL Deadline is June 31st.

It's time for me to devote more time to my job hunt and website creation. I also need to focus on a few short stories for submission to ?????

I'm breathing. I'm trying to think of my next step. I think blog posts should be shorter for starters. With this in mind, see ya later.

Good luck to all of you, especially if you're BARFing. Time for my next step.

extra! extra! read all about it! - Part 2

my apologies to my readers. my nap turned into an all night affair. guess i was plum tuckered out.

extra! extra! read all about it! - Part 2

As I got the vehicle secured, I continued to talk about getting oil. Norma listened and offered that she could take me home because it was on her way home. I accepted her offer.

"CVS would have motor oil," I said to Norma as we sat at the light at Chicago & Ogden looking at the CVS, "Could we pull in and try it? Would that be OK?"

Norma looked at the CVS, "OK. It would be better to try it now. I can do that."

"Thank you, Norma," I replied while hanging up the phone.

I'd called my son and my son's girlfriend because I wanted her dad to call me. He races Porsches, so I figured he might even know someone with a tow truck or at least there was some local help. She was up in Wisconsin with my son.

Since both calls went directly to voice mail, I did the dreaded and called my dad.

"Dang it! Dang it! Dang it!" I thought while dialing the number.

"Couldn't you call your daughter?" Norma asked after I explained that I really didn't want to call Dad and get him worried.

"No. It's her birthday, and she's got enough on her plate," I answered knowing that this was another birthday present to her fulfilling my wish that she have a "do-nothing" day on her birthday.

As Norma made the necessary turns into the CVS Pharmacy, I got through to Dad, "Dad. Hey. Are the kids with you?" I asked and listened with great anticipation and hope for a positive answer, but he told me that they weren't; and that, he didn't expect to see them for an hour or so. I gave him the same message that I'd left for them about having her dad call me, told him I had to go because I was in the middle of handling the situation.

While gathering the three quarts of 5W/30W oil, a funnel, and a roll of paper towels; my son's girlfriend called back. I explained in halting sentences while looking for the necessary materials explaining what I was doing, what had gone wrong, and telling her to call her dad and give him my number. Just after I grabbed the roll of paper towels and interrupted Norma as she asked the Pharmacist where the paper towels were; my son's girlfriend called back and said that her dad was driving back from Black Hawk. She also told me that he wouldn't answer the phone while he's driving and wouldn't be home for about an hour, at least.

"OK. Well, think good thoughts," I said and hung up the phone, "Norma? You're thinking good thoughts, right?"

"Yep!" she chirped.

I whipped out my cash so forcefully that I discombobulated the cashier. It was all that happy coming out. I was happy to have "walking around" money. I didn't care what the supplies cost. I was just happy to have the money and to be going back to try my plan. I was happy I'd met Norma; and that, she was so wonderfully willing to try my plan as evidenced by her ownership of the situation. I was happy to have help from such a capable and communicative person.

When I'd told her that her words were really helping, she shared that she'd experienced panic attacks, too. She'd been to her doctor, and was following the advice that she'd come to learn worked; breathe deeply and take one thing at a time.

We had incorporated this advice into our approach to our challenge. Yes, it was now our challenge because Norma wasn't going to leave me behind and realized that not only did I need to try my hand at solving this problem; but that, it was logical to do so. This made me very happy, too. Each little bit of happy dispelled some of the nervousness, but the nervousness was still my primary feeling.

We got to the car and worked as a team getting a quart of oil into the engine. While we did it, I showed Norma where the oil cap was and tested the oil again many times. I turned the key, depressed the accelerator, and Nothing. I got out. We agreed some more oil. Norma started talking about pulling her car in front of mine again. I agreed to that thinking that hooking the cars up again was probably the way to go. I didn't tell Norma that I thought this. I was taking it one step at a time. Our next step was to put more oil in and hook up the cars.

"OK. Now think good thoughts. This will work," Norma said with her hand held over the jumper cable grips connected to her car.

"OK," I replied and held my hand over the grips connected to my car.

We stood there for a moment. Norma looked so peaceful and confident. There was a battle raging inside me. My positive, confident feelings were being annoyed and nagged at by Doubt. I focused on letting my doubts go, but I wasn't entirely successful before I took my hand away. I walked around to the driver's side and looked at Norma.

"Think good thoughts," she said, "It will work."

Norma continued to bless her battery and it's connection to my car's battery. I waited for her to start her car. I waited some more.

"Norma?"

"Yes?"

"You have to start your car."

"Oh," she chuckled.

She returned to the front of her car and suggested I start mine. I was stalling to get a bit-o-juice in the engine and told her so. In a little bit, I tried my car. Nothing.

"I'm not sure if revving the car works, but how do you feel about it?" I asked as I headed to meet Norma.

"What?"

"Revving your car."

"Revving?"

"You know. Make your car's engine go faster."

"Oh!" Norma responded and headed to her car.

I headed to my car and waited for a bit. I tried. Nothing. I hung my head.

"PLEASE!" I thought, took a breath and tried again.

IT STARTED! IT STARTED! IT STARTED! IT STARTED! IT STARTED!

I was afraid to take my foot off the pedal, but I scrambled out of the car and rushed towards Norma. The jumper cable separated us. I unhooked my car and tried to hand them to Norma.

"No!" she said.

"Hold 'em," I said and held them far apart as I put them in her hands.

I unhooked her car, took the jumper cables, looked at the cables, looked at Norma, made a funny face, tossed the cables on the grass and HUGGED Norma. I gave her such a bear hug. I did my best not to smother her. We hugged HUGELY Twice. The air was filled with our laughter and my 'thank yous'. The whole time I couldn't help thinking about my Facebook status just the night before about being "smarter than the average bear." I couldn't help chuckling more. Duh, duh, duh, duh - Duh!

"May I follow you home? You know how to get on the freeway, right?"

"Sure."

We gathered up our stuff. Norma brought my coffee mug to me. She pulled out and waited. I followed her all the way to the 94 split. She headed up 94. I headed up 41. She never let me out of her sights for long while I was following her. She led beautifully. I talked to my son's girlfriend because her phone gets better reception than his, and told her that I'd call when I got home. I reveled in driving my car home knowing full well that it had too much oil in it now; and that, my previously planned trip to Chuck's would happen this upcoming week.

"Besides," I thought, "I need a reliable car for the shoot. Wish I had a dog. Maybe Beau. No. He's not trained. Sure would be nice if he was. Oh well. I'm DRIVING MY CAR HOME!"

I smiled, played my Little Feat "Waiting for Columbus" cassette and drove straight home where I parked my car so the battery would be easily accessible should I need another jump. Happily, the car started twice after I got it parked.

There were a flurry of phone calls after I got home. I had to check in with everyone who was aware of my predicament and thank them for their willingness to help. I had to leave messages for my daughter telling her that I'd gotten at least one day's worth of work. I had to work off the adrenaline. One of my favorite comments was from my brother who had the perfect response to my, "Isn't this just typical me?"

"Yep."

Yep. This is typical me. No wonder my nerves are a bit shot after all these years. Glad it's not worse.

I've discovered oil on the garage floor. The car has an oil leak that I didn't know about until today. Technically, it's another two thousand miles til my next needed oil change.

I'm pretty sure I left the lights on given my nerves and the arrival of the older, good-looking man when I arrived at the Open Extras Casting Call. Oops.

What I know is that Norma and I have one day's worth of work on "Cheaters" (link below)

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1578275/

simply because we showed up in Blackhawks t-shirts. We're both investing in our futures.

I called Norma to let her know that I was home safely in my kitchen about an hour after I'd gotten home. She had just arrived home. We talked for a good while and learned more about each other. We're planning on going to the Transformers Open Extras Casting Call together on June 4th. I'll give her gas money. She doesn't know she's driving yet, but I'm sure she won't mind. It's being held at the Chicago Academy for the Arts, too. We're planning on getting there earlier and getting out earlier.

I'm so hoping that this summer I get called to set a lot. It would be so nice to say that in these economic times when I've face rejection for over a year that what finally put me to work was "The Entertainment Industry." Wouldn't that just be a great thing for a former Welfare Mother who had the audacity to get her degree in Technical Theatre being only a semester away from her degree in Acting/Directing and having worked for seven years as a cable company employed Television "Do Everything" Public Access Producer? Wouldn't it be nice for her children who were dragged through college with her, to the studios, and location shoots? Wouldn't it be nice for my parents, friends, and other family members to see something good happen to me in "The Entertainment Industry."

I know, respect, and love almost everything about my chosen field of study. I actually fit in quite well even though there are quite a few mean people in my field, too. I've experienced enough of the mean people in my field to have stayed away for a long time. It's just that I've learned more, now, and have decided that I'm stronger and able to handle the bullshit better. At my best, I take a deep breath and focus on one thing at a time.

Thank You, Norma Tan! As I told you, "You've done your good deed for the month and are even entitled to a few really grouchy and unreasonable days!" I'm looking forward to our next adventure which will include some coffee or something instead of a car repair seminar. We'll keep the teamwork thingie going.

To my daughter on her birthday - I did this for you. All the goofy happenings were just a part of your goofy mother's life. I went to the Open Extras Casting Call on your birthday to overcome one of my biggest fears because I wanted to give you a mother who is capable of overcoming her fears and fulfilling another dream. I did it! Whether I do it on purpose or simply by breathing, I know I embarrass you and have embarrassed you throughout the years. When I do it on purpose, well; that's funny, sometimes. When it's just because "I yam what I yam", well; that's heartbreaking, infuriating, annoying, and in many cases; motivating. I have given you an example of a fearful woman who has let bigotry, meanness, and self-doubt get the better of her. I had to change that. I hope that this one goofy experience might go to show you that while you may not understand or even approve, once upon a time your mother set out on a mission to overcome what she thought of as her biggest fear. She's happy to report that it turned out better than she expected. Carpe Diem, Chicklet. I love you with every breath I take. Keep being stronger than your mother. Every good parent wants their child to do better than they have. You'll see. Also know that pushing to overcome fears is worthwhile no matter what the circumstances or timing. It can turn out to be too late, but for the most part that's what creatures do. Every second of every day there are creatures all over the world that are overcoming fears. It's nice to fit in somewhere. (wink - rim shot)

That's it, my fine friends and family. It is 8:33am. I've been up since 6:30am. Go figure. Time to get my morning sun. Time to clean off my hammock. Probably time to take a shower and take off the Blackhawks t-shirt, too. Time to have a day filled with no dramatic ups and downs. Remember, one of my goals in life is Boring. Maybe a few more people know why, now.

extra! extra! read all about it!

just saw david ride by on his red moped/vespa/whatever thingie. no, i'm not going to blog without using punctuation, etc. just needed to warm up a bit before tackling today's post.

ok, one more neighborhood thingie - d just dropped off her air conditioner. 3, 3, let's sing a song about 3! 3 air conditioners. we're ready to rock and roll. thank you, d!

At 6:13am with the radio blaring, I turned my head to confirm that I would not be leaving at 7am. The jury was still out about whether or not I'd leave the house. I went back to bed for another twenty minutes. This went on for a couple more times, then M*A*S*H* was on directed by Harry Morgan, so I decided to watch that while continuing to lay in bad with thoughts of maybe going to the Open Extras Casting Call.

I was pretty sure I'd be going because I'd bought a Blackhawks t-shirt, and it's been a long time since I spent over $2.50 on a t-shirt. What was I going to do with a washed and stretched Blackhawks t-shirt if I didn't go? It would be a constant reminder of the failure.

OK, so I didn't need to be there til 11am, and it went to 4:30pm; and the mission was to get me out the door and on my way.

I'm very happy to report that my daughter's "Happy Birthday to You" song was sung to her while driving down to the city. I got to talk to my oldest granddaughter, too. Well, that was just wonderful. I signed off and continued to drive to the Chicago Academy for the Arts building arriving around 10:30am. Drove back and forth deciding where I would park and opted for the gravel parking lot behind the animal hospital. No signs! Seemed to be a good spot.

A good looking older man pulled up in his Blackhawks jersey. We exchanged pleasantries, and walked to the end of the line which was right in front of the animal hospital with a beautiful liver-colored lab tied up in front.

People were quiet for the most part. We waited. I read my Frank Zappa book. A woman came by and told us to have the forms she was handing out filled out by the time we got inside. That was the beginning of a most fortuatious meeting.

"May I borrow a pen?" the woman behind me asked.

"Sure," I replied thinking that it was a good thing I'd packed four pens.

"May I?" asked a gentleman behind her.

"Sure," I replied and continued digging in my bag for all my pens because I saw another guy motioning that he'd like one.

If filling out a form can be interesting, this is simply because I turned into a woman while filling it out. It was all over Bust/Waist/Hips. Dang! There I was feeling like a doofus for not taking my measurements before going especially considering my training! To top it off, I was embarrassed about what measurements are even in approximation. About nine months ago I took my measurements, so I couldn't be far off. I had to take my measurements for my daughter's wedding and for some nice business suits for interviews. I had a good internal chuckle at me, and turned to the woman next to me.

"Do yo mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"No," she responded.

"Well, we seem to be about the same size, and I was wondering if you know what your measurements are."

"Oh," she chuckled and showed me her form, "I left it blank. You don't think we'll be disqualified for that, do you?"

We both chucked and continued talking. We introduced ourselves, and by Norma's request; got each other's phone numbers. We were both Open Extras Casting Call "virgins." I told her everything I knew from bugging my son, Justin, and doing research on the web. My vintage bag, that my mom can't figure out why she gave me and my daughter wants, was packed with everything I could think that I needed and maybe someone else would need, too. My Blackhawks shirt was on with my black bell bottoms and green hiking shoes from Blaine's Farm & Fleet. I relaxed. So did Norma. I made her laugh. I love making people laugh with my self-depricating humor and honest interaction. From the heart, ya know?

Soon we were standing about seven feet from the door. My Frank Zappa Book had been replaced with my green folder containing my picture, the form and both resumes. We were directed into the building by another nice looking gentleman. We were told to go downstairs where we were told that people in Blackhawks stuff were to go to one side, and street clothes people to the other. Well, thank goodness Norma and I went out last night and bought Blackhawks shirts!

The woman checking us in was wearing a black and white striped tank with jeans. She was beautiful and curvatious. She was flying covering the front desk and filling the staplers. She was also keeping a mental note of what number she was on. Everybody's form got a number. Mine was B127, and Norma's was B128.

We had our pictures taken with our Blackhawks gear on and number showing below the .... hawk which basically means below my breasts. I saw the look of discomfort on the photographers face. He made me laugh and relax. I'm sure the picture is goofy.

When I got done with that, I got a bit scared. Norma wasn't to be seen. It was just an instant, though.

"There you are! There's my buddy. I'm working on the buddy system, now."

We laughed and made our way up to the front of the line with our forms, pictures, and resumes stapled together. We were both going over the instructions we'd received regarding casting the movie. They need reliable cars! We were also asked if we had any medical, police, or military background. Unfortunately, I do not have a working dog.

Soon, I was up a the front of the line. I handed in my paperwork and received a handout in return. I followed the people in front of me to the exit door. To the EXIT DOOR! Wow! That was quick. I looked down at the handout and read, "One day of work...." Just by showing up in a Blackhawks t-shirt, I got ONE DAY of work!

I went back to gather Norma who was standing patiently in front of the two beautiful women checking people out. I waited in the doorway trying to make myself as small as possible.

"Is that it?" I heard Norma say.

"Yes, you can go," one of the women responded nicely.

Norma came walking out just as dazed as I had been.

"Did you read it?" I asked.

"What?"

"The letter. We've got ONE DAY of work! I got a day of work! Wow! I can't tell you how long it's been since I felt that! Wow," I went on and on.

Norma just chucked at me and at her own good fortune. Not bad for two Open Extras Casting Call virgins. We were delighted and made plans to keep in touch, go to the Transformers Open Casting Call together, and go to the United Center for our Blackhawks game sometime between July 21st & 23rd, or maybe even all three days. We were giggly, over-the-moon happy. By this time we were beside my car. Norma and I said our good-byes, and she walked across the field to her car.

I got in my car, put the key in the ignition, and heard nothing. Nothing. No turn-over. Nothing.

My heart sunk. I started thinking. Norma! I called her cell phone.

"Norma? It's Michelle. Do you have jumper cables by any chance?"

"What? Oh. Let me pull over. I think I might. I'll call you back."

While I waited, I figured out how to get the hood open, checked out the battery, checked the oil, and read the Owner's Manuel to see what kind of oil the car took. The oil light came on besides the car not turning over, and I thought it looked very low.

Norma pulled up, and went to her trunk. She had the cutest little red bag with the cutest pair of jumper cables still in their wrapping. We figured out that she needed to park her car so it was facing mine.

Just about then, another good-looking young man called from the fence, "Ladies? Do you need some help?"

"Uh Huh," I called back in my best three-year-old little girl voice.

He laughed and headed towards us. His name was Josh. Kudos to Josh for being willing to be a good samaritan. I told him that he was there for moral support when he showed up. I knew how to hook up the jumper cables and taught Norma how to while I was doing it.

Unfortunately, the car did not turn over. Nothing.

As Josh talked about just having his alternator replaced, Norma asked me what I wanted to do. We discussed my options with Josh and Norma making a good argument for having the car towed. It was convincing, but I wasn't quite ready. Josh said his good-bye with our blessing. I was perfectly willing to find a store or gas station to see if adding some oil would help, but Norma didn't want to leave me.

"Unless you're a mechanic ...," said Norma.

I looked up at her, fully aware that my son was in Wisconsin, it was my daughter's birthday, and I didn't have a clue who to call; but it was time to secure the vehicle and move on.

GOOD LORD IN HEAVEN! A bird just pooped on my son's computer! This may be a sign! (There's another story there.)

It's getting chilly, and I'm sitting outside with my Blackhawks t-shirt, some khaki shorts, my Wisconsin flip-flops, and the lovely, green, fleece shawl that my Mom gave me - on. Bird poop on the computer! ... and no napkins in sight.

There is more to the story, though. Much, much more. Could be that there will be two posts on this day, May 22, 2010.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHICKLET! I did all this for you! More on that later, too.

AND ...

I've found my fashion havens! Well, I knew about Tarjay, but Blaine's Farm & Fleet is a recent discovery.

Have to insert a big "Thank You" to Mom for introducing me to Willow Ridge!

Come back for the second installment of "extra! extra! read all about it!"

Please Forgive Me ...

There is a wonderful young woman celebrating her Golden Birthday today, and I have let her down. My tribute to Ms. Brit will be done when I feel better and have more time. Until then, Happy Birthday, Ms. Brit! I know you did a stellar job tonight at your play opening. Love you tons & tons.

Folks, that's it til later tomorrow. I'm wiped. Tomorrow is a HUGE Day, so I'm going to be "smarter than the average bear" and get to bed. I'll fill everyone in on my activities when I get home tomorrow.

It is 11:11pm. I always like that time, so here's to a wonderful tomorrow for everyone, but especially my first born on her birthday and me on my adventure.

I'M TERRIFIED! SCARED BEYOND BELIEF! YOU WANNA TALK THE MOTHER OF ALL ANXIETY ATTACKS?!

to bed, to bed
to rest my whirling head

Anxiety Attacks Suck

Durwood's Glen Shrine (Photo: Forward @ 50)

What's more to say. Spent the majority of the day shaking. This is happening more frequently, and I think it's due to being unemployed for so long and wanting to see my daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren more. The consistent failure to land a job after interviewing is really getting to me. Nothing new there. Wanting to see my daughter's family more is constant, too, even though I understand all the reasons that I can't right now. It's hard living so close; and yet, being so far away. I'm doing my best to be understanding and not place any more pressure and stress on them. My daughter and son-in-law are working so hard to make a good life for themselves and their children. I just have my desires to deal with. I focused so much of my attention on raising my children that now that I have to find my own life I'm out of my comfort zone. Besides, I always dreamed of being the appropriately helpful, non-interfering, lovable mother and mother-in-law who is there with some food, many hugs and kisses, lots of time to listen, and whatever they needed me to do. It's harder than I imagined to do what they need me to do which is understand that I can't see them as much as I would like.

In spite of all of this, my mood is basically fine. I'm just shaking. I've eaten pretty well today, too. It's just really strange to shake, become immobile, and wait to see when it will pass without being able to make it stop. It can be downright annoying, frustrating, and demoralizing. I always think to myself that I'm weak for not being able to control these things. I get mad at myself and focus intently on stopping the shaking, but it doesn't work. Most of the time I can push through it, but this has prompted me to go ahead and see if I can get a doctor's appointment with the county health department to see what to do. Last I checked, I can get an appointment in about a month. No insurance means that I haven't seen a doctor in over a year. Except for a cat bite, an ear ache, and now more frequent anxiety attacks; I'm fine. Well, I am morbidly obese and smoke, so ... I guess it's a matter of perspective.

Sorry so boring. I know there are bunches of people who are struggling while looking for work, so if this helps anyone feel as though they're not alone that's GREAT! I sincerely believe that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I just haven't found the tunnel yet. (rim shot! - ha, ha! a joke!) Hang in there my fellow strugglers and survivors. I'm rooting for all of us. I know it's hard and giving up seems so appealing at times. We just can't. We just need to rest, eat well, and keep plugging away. My heart goes out to all of you and to me, too. I don't have any answers, but for what it's worth; I'm here and hoping for a brighter future for all.

I'm headed to bed to rest and wait for a phone call from my son telling me that he has arrived at his grandparents' home safely. Hopefully, I'll feel a lot better in the morning. I have a two busy days coming up and will have to push ahead. Two things are going through my mind; The Little Engine That Could and song lyrics, "... put one foot in front of the other..." Not bad, huh.

I'm also going to be concentrating on sending good vibes to my son-in-law's mother. She may have had a heart attack today. She's in the hospital now. Here's to a good prognosis and her speedy recovery. I'd love to be able to help her in some way. Really.

Moving Right Along ...

Sunrise Over Lake Michigan - (Photo: Forward @ 50)

So yesterday I was furious (for good reason). Today I am tired and content. Last night's conversation cleared the air quite well. YAY!

I am going to miss my son when he moves on with his life. He is outside working on my daughter's birthday present as I write. YAY! After she has it, I'll be able to write more about that. She's been known to read this thing.

I was up at 7:30am, showered, cleaned the kitchen, ran the dishwasher, made a few business calls, and just finished doing a favor for my neighbor. All in all a very good start to a new day after about four hours of sleep. Ouch. LOL

JOB: Rejected by Ravinia. :(:(:( ... and ... favorite possible nanny position not open until Fall, after all. Might be able to do some occasional babysitting. I was told to keep in touch. Not bad. I am getting prepared for my interview on May 22nd, my daughter's birthday. (Post will be in the evening with news and accolades.) I'm on the fence about the other nanny position. I'm in the process of developing a babysitting business IF the people who have interviewed me for full-time positions use me for occasional sitting. The economy is hitting everyone. Pink slips are flying and hours are being reduced all around, still. Just in case you didn't know. It's rough out in "JOB HUNT LAND."

WEIGHT/HEALTH: I've had an apple that tasted TOO GOOD this morning and coffee. Ran around with a 2 year old and a 4 year old for my exercise. Got my 15 minutes of early morning sun, too. Have you heard the new reports on getting sun before 10am and after 2pm? It's good for people to do this for the vitamin D. OK ... La, La, La, La, La. Will eat well today because I've been cooking healthy food. Leftovers here I come! More moving with housework, too; so I am not a complete slug, really.

CHEERING UP: Yep. Basically anything short of death would be cheering up after yesterday. OH MAN was I MAD ... and SAD. sigh. Glad that ended with a healthy outcome thanks to years of working on talking with my son. It does take years, you know. Very proud of both of us. It's very hard and scary to be brutally honest about our feelings while minding basic conversational rules. Listening is ever so important. Choice of words and tone is important, too. Having the courage to be honest, though, even if it's totally messed up, is what makes or breaks the deal. Oh, and you have to stay in the room. No walking away. I'm real sensitive to having people walk away because that was my ex's method of dealing with me and any problems we had. He did things that were much worse, but he was consistent with the walking out of the house and driving away leaving me with the children. Hmmmmm. When he wiped out the bank account and abandoned us, I wasn't too surprised after the initial mind-blowing, heart-breaking shock that reduced me to a pile on the floor. More about that in a later post. It will be titled, "The Three Rules."

SMOKING: LORD HELP ME! I am smoking. I do not smoke around children, or even let them see me; but I'm starting to think I'll never kick the habit and have lung cancer to "look forward to." I know this pains many of you, and I'm sorry. I think I need to be put away for about three months to really do this thing. I also will need a padded cell. Yep. That might work. Maybe.

Lunch and a nap, then I'll be hitting the house and the job hunt some more. Nothing extremely exciting. Just wanted to let everyone know that I really am focused on moving forward and haven't fallen completely off the path.

Have a good day, Everyone! :D

It's OK To Be Mad

I'm mad. I'm downright furious.

I remember my favorite basketball player, Bryan Luce, used to play better when he was mad. The coach, Steve Proctor, realized this and used it to his advantage. Coach Proctor would purposefully get Bryan mad if he wasn't playing well. It worked every time. Bryan would go out on the court and tear it up. It was brilliant to behold.

With this in mind, I'm off to do the nastiest of jobs that I can imagine. I will be doing this job alone. Typical.

Not much more to say except, "How much is one person supposed to take in their lifetime? How long do they allow themselves to be a doormat for the people they love the most? How long is life worth living under these circumstances? I'm so sick and tired of living a horrific lie. I'm so sick and tired of all the bullshit. It hurts too much, so to protect myself from the pain; I'll get good and mad."

Bit of advice: Appreciate the people who love you, give all they have to you, and make sacrifices to make your life easier. They may not be there one day when you need them the most. Just a few words of caution.

As far as I can see, and I've looked very deeply and very hard; I've made my amends and done whatever I could to beg forgiveness for my mistakes. I forgiven trespasses that many would never forgive. Why then does the bullshit persist? Remember, it hurts too much. I'm doing my best not to break, but it's getting harder and harder; more painful than I can take.

OK, off to tear into this terrible task. No feeling sorry for myself. No self pity. Just pure rage. It's about time!

Here's to angry tears, screaming grief, and ungodly pain all due to unwarranted rejection and ridicule.

40! - Happy Syttende Mai! - Happy Anniversay, Cathy & Chris!

40 is cool. I liked my 40's. This is my 40th Post!

Wave the flags!

It's Syttende Mai, at least it still is in the USA. It's past Syttende Mai in Norway. Hope everyone had as good a day as I had. Stellar.

Happy 28th Anniversary, Cathy & Chris! Twenty-Eight Years! The world is a better place because of you two. Proud to know you.

I'm going to eat a bit of turkey loaf with sweet peppers, sweet onion, garlic, spices and Sweet Baby Ray's on top! Sweet! I gave my friends meat & veggies for their anniversary dinner. It's the least I could do. They've fed me great food so many times.

Cathy walked our yard with me, and we did a thorough assessment. :D

We sat in our garage and laughed and talked and .... well, that's what we did. First time in 16 years.

I have impressed my friend, and hopefully, craft/garden/whatever night can start again soon. Could turn into a study night, too. :D

In any case, that's it for tonight. No pics. Short - Sweet - To The Point.

May each of you have as good a day as I just had at some time in your lives again. Sweet dreams.

If I Do This ...

... will that happen?

"What If" is a game that I became aware of while watching Sesame Street. I used to watch a lot of Sesame Street with my children. I'd watched it before. It premiered on November 10, 1969.

Wikipedia Entry for Sesame Street - (and yep - cut & paste - to read about the Carnegie Institute, Joan Ganz Cooney, Jim Henderson, and many others who intelligently created a new genre of educational television for children. NOTE: "Cooney suggested creating a program that would spread prolearning values to both viewers and nonviewers (including their parents) that would affect them for many years after they stopped watching it.") - GOAL MET.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sesame_Street

Like I said, "I never know exactly what will come out of the fingertips when I start to write these things." Wasn't exactly expecting Sesame Street, but it does play in.

One of my dream jobs was to work for Sesame Street and/or The Children's Television Workshop. I've only dreamed about it. I don't like the current turn that Sesame Street has taken, but it's not entirely terrible. I also wish it was on more often. Strange, huh. Wanting a show on more often (and at better times) when I don't like it as much as I did before. Sesame Street has definitely had a lasting, effective affect on me and countless others.

As time has progressed, I've found that I've fallen in love with little kids again. Their joy and innocence is addicting. How they learn and so quickly! Little sponges running around sucking it all up. It's after they squeeze something out from that sponge that they learn about filtering. What is OK to say. What is not. Behavior; good, bad and so-so. Experiencing this process can be exhilarating. It is exhausting, too. Children force me to be aware of my words and deeds, and I like that. I am not afraid of children.

I've been in love with TV for a long time. The combination of TV and Early Childhood Education was and is brilliant. At one hour in total length cut up into many vignettes, Sesame Street provided me with many opportunities to interact with my children throughout the show. We laughed when we watched Sesame Street and while we retold the stories we had seen. We discussed lessons like "What If" a lot. We talked about all the characters, and why we liked them. Well, before my children could talk, I talked about all the characters, and why I liked them a lot. One of my favorite characters was "The 'A' Machine."

People are constantly griping about TV being used as a babysitter, and I stand proudly guilty as charged. I plopped my kids down to watch Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers. If I had the time, I plopped down with them. If I didn't, I constantly checked in on them and stayed for a moment or two. One of my favorite memories of my son is because of a moment when he was watching Sesame Street just like "A Guy."

Imagine if you will, a two year old boy propped up on his daddy's pillow, laying in his parents bed, watching Sesame Street; one arm bent with his hand behind his head, the other bent with his hand hooked in under his waist band.

"No. No, no. No, no, no," I thought, "What am I going to say? Oh My God! No!"

"Honey, what are you doing? Are you having fun?" I said.

No response.

"Dear. Take your hand out from your waist band, please," I continued, "Gentlemen don't sit like that."

"Huh?"

"Your hand, Sweetie. No not that one. The other one. That's it. Thank you."

I went off to the kitchen to continue my work and breathe while making gestures I didn't want my children to see. When I checked back later, he was at it again.

"Boo-Boo," I reminded.

He removed his hand. He was a pretty quick learner. He also didn't really like being called Boo-Boo. He got the nickname because of Yogi and Boo-Boo. My daughter was taller and took the lead. My son was smaller and followed while questioning the sanity of the decisions.

It's one of my favorite stories about my son. He just graduated from Film School. He's found his passion. His Senior Project was autobiographical; both funny and scary. He can be sloth-like. He can toil like an ox. He's still funny as hell, and to prove it -

Right now, I am listening to him make sounds in the shower; weird yawning, waking up sounds. I swear I heard singing.

He's still "a guy." I've raised me "A Man!" I don't correct him too much anymore. Besides, I consider myself lucky. I only know as much as I do about my son because he still lives with me. His bedroom is his sanctuary, so I butt out.

I even understand, "What?! It's warm." Used to gross me out so bad! Ewwwwww. Now, I've learned the joys of the waist band and the hand(s). It is warm and so perfectly proportional. I've learned many things from my son, and he's learned a lot from me because of Sesame Street.

I wonder if there's a parent and/or teacher out there who has their students make sock puppets or stick puppets, so that their character can give a presentation on a letter or number - to start. That's a pretty basic idea that's good for the ages. Seems I had a teacher, or was it a parent or grandparent, that did that. When I see my granddaughter again, I'll have to have some socks, material, yarn, buttons, needles, thread and glue available. I think I made puppets with my kids. I don't know. Seems laundry lent itself to a few silly sock situations. I have a vague memory of a blind, white newt doing a comedic bit.

If I do this will that happen? It's good to think before doing something. It's good to think while doing something. It's good to have rules that change. It's good to find compromise. It's good to play while working. Talking and laughing are two of the best healing forces around.

My son's girlfriend and I had stressful days yesterday. Off in our own worlds, we shared a certain emotional intensity due to dissimilar situations. My son and I listened to her. My son and she listened to me. My son interjected humor. We did not respond. I offered an affirmation. She responded and started laughing while saying it because my son started offering other voices she could say it with. She turned the table on me with an affirmation, and my son offered a voice. Off we went with our venting/healing session. We are so lucky.

We finished up the evening sharing pet stories. Most of them were funny, and that felt so good. Anytime a story became a bit too serious, we became aware and switched focus to funny, without stating it specifically, understanding that the hour was late and there really was nothing more to be done except laugh, get some rest, and wake up to a new day. Of course, we talked and laughed for hours and stayed up way too late again, but we all went to bed a bit happier and more relaxed; or so I want to believe.

It takes a long time and lots of approaches to get something right. For instance:

My son is now headed out. Before leaving, he walked toward me with his arms outstretched for our hug. My son pretty much always does this. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, I'm receptive. This time before he arrived at my side, I already had my arms outstretched towards him. How lucky am I? I'm luckier than you know because before leaving, without any prompting, my son just "did the trash." Amazing. It's taken a long time and lots of approaches to get it right.

If I do this will that happen? It's such a good game, "What If."

Majestic Prince

Wikipedia Entry - Majestic Prince
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Majestic_Prince

Yep. You'll have to do a cut and paste for that link, too. I figure I'm going to learn the whole linking thing when one of my friends tells me how to do it, or I take the Web Development and Design class that starts on June 8th.

I never completely know what will come out of the fingertips when I start these things. Sometimes I don't even know the topic til I've signed in. Sometimes I know the topic, but the story changes as I'm writing. If you've been reading this thing, you've discovered that I can write a lot or a little. It all depends on so many factors. Here we go.


MAJESTIC PRINCE - Winner: 1969 Kentucky Derby & Preakness Stakes. 2nd Place: Belmont Stakes. Bill Hartack, Jockey.


In 1969, crouched in front of the Family Room TV was a little girl of 9 years. Her hair was long and blond. Her body was slim and fit.

Her nose 10 inches from the screen, she cheered in a whisper, "Come on! Come On! Go! Go! Go!"

By the end of The Kentucky Derby, the little girl could no longer contain herself. Her voice raised and she found herself bouncing up and down, pounding on the carpet with her fists.

"What are you doing?" her dad whined, rolling over on the couch; waking up from his nap.

The little girl pointed at the TV, "Majestic Prince just WON The Kentucky Derby! See!" she continued as the Instant Replay started.

"Oh," the groggy grouch replied, "Well, keep it down."

Shirking her shoulders in that "Oops Kinda Way", but not taking her eyes off the Instant Replay; the little girl continued to watch and listen as her dad fell back to sleep oblivious to the amazing Majestic Prince and the love affair that was forming between his daughter and all things Triple Crown.

Not to worry, though. Soon the little girl's entire family would know. After all, they had years of living together ahead, and the little girl was only nine years old.


CANONERO II - 1971 Kentucky Derby & Preakness Stakes Winner. Gustavo Avila, Jockey.

It would be a few years until the little girl saw the wonders of a true Triple Crown Winner, but she lived the disappointment of Majestic Prince's Second Place finish in the Belmont. Cannonero II's Fourth Place hurt less.


SECRETARIAT - 1973 Triple Crown Winner. Ron Turcotte, Jockey.

By the time Secretariat came along, the little girl was thirteen. She was no longer a child. She was a young lady who still loved The Triple Crown. From the moment she saw Secretariat, she thought of her beloved Majestic Prince. It was the white blaze and color, but "Big Red" did have a more beautifully colored coat. She couldn't deny it. She started to fall in love. It didn't hurt that he shared his "Big Red" nickname with Man O' War, either.


SECRETARIAT wearing his blinkers.

When she saw him step onto the race track, she was baffled and a bit mad. His white blaze was covered by blinkers. Majestic Prince hadn't needed blinkers.

"Hmmmmm," she thought, "We'll see."


SECRETARIAT Book Cover

When she saw him run, she lost her heart. It rode down the track with him.

"I wish I was a jockey," the already too tall, little girl thought.

She accepted this plight while watching horse racing for years to come. As she grew, so did her knowledge of the sport. As she aged, her awareness of the dangers, pit-falls, and inequity of the sport became more apparent.

She still can't take herself away from the sheer beauty, though. The Triple Crown is celebrated every year with a quiet reverence. Well, it's quiet until race time, at least.


MAN O' WAR - 1920 Preakness & Belmont Stakes Winner. Clarence Kummer, Jockey. (Not entered in the Kentucky Derby)



WAR EMBLEM - 2002 Kentucky Derby & Preakness Stakes Winner. Victor Espinoza, Jockey.


There's only one time in history that she's been absolutely sure which horse was going to win The Kentucky Derby. His lines went back to Man O' War. War Emblem was a long shot at 40-1. She agonized for hours about driving up to OTB (Off Track Betting) to place a bet, but couldn't bring herself to do it because of her maternal, biological grandfather's dismal gambling history and the fact that she wanted to place a $500 bet. She wasn't just satisfied with placing a $20 bet. If she was going to drive up and do it, it would be for $500; or what was the point. Oh silly woman. Still, had she placed that bet, would The Universe have shifted? Would War Emblem have lost? We'll never know.

What we do know is that the sport is still pure for the woman in spite of on track injury and death. In spite of horrifying practices by jockeys, trainers, owners, vets, and criminals; for the woman, the sport has the purity of youth, new beginnings, and intimate love affairs. It is hers. It is hers alone in her family. No one gets as excited about The Triple Crown as she does. She gets to lead with this one. She gets to educate, learn and share this passion with her family and the world like an angel enveloping their beloved in their wings. It is still her wish that she could throw her beloveds up in the air and watch as they magically grow their own wings. She knows the joy of this experience. She learned it from Majestic Prince and committed to it with Secretariat.

She also knows that if she ever has that "War Emblem Feeling" again, she's placing a "budget-friendly" bet; whatever that is.

So here's to 2010, Super Saver and Calvin Borel. Will they do it? She doesn't know, but she'll be watching starting at 3:30pm CST on NBC.


SUPER SAVER - 2010 Kentucky Derby Winner. Calvin Borel, Jockey.

TGIF

Three job interviews down. Kitchen cleaned. "The Fabulous Baker Boys" and "The Blind Side" watched. Even did a bit of knitting this week. Shoulder SORE! Still NEED to do FAFSA tonight or tomorrow because the deadline is May 15th.

I've had "The Blind Side" looping since I put it into the DVD player too late last night. I finished watching it as the sun rose and the birds chirped led by the Cardinal. Oops.

All responsibilities met. Time to sleep.

Sweet dreams and all my best. More later.

Oh, and just for the record; Sammy, our female cat, is sprawled out by my feet. She's gotten quite fond of the heat from the laptop and me, I guess. She's also become much more verbal. Bless her. To think, she dang-near died when she was first adopted. Now she is a living, breathing pillow who just wants to be loved. She's so funny when she gets to playin' with something. She is the definition of "rolly-poley." I always wanted a Calico Cat. I once heard that all Calico cats are female. Wonder if that's true.

Oh, and my son has been researching gardening techniques. :D He's excited. Wow!

Night.

Highland Park Girls Basketball

On May 12th at 5:58am, Chicago Breaking News Center reported that the Highland Park Girls Basketball team will not be attending a tournament in Arizona next season.

The article I read before Sarah Palin got into the picture:

http://www.chicagobreakingnews.com/2010/05/highland-park-basketball-team-trip-to-arizona-scrapped.html

(still trying to figure out how to do links on this thing, so you'll have to cut & paste, if you want to read it.)

As I read the article, I couldn't control the memories of my time as a parent of HPHS students, nor could I control the memories of my time as the Girls Basketball Youth Traveling Team's Assistant Coach. They exploded. "Yay! and Yuck!"

I had the good fortune to be chosen to be the Assistant Coach for "the best group of girls to come along in years" for two years. The first year it was for free. The second year I got $250 and a polo. I only mention that because, the $250 and polo kept me from quitting many times. Dang materialist tendencies and need for money. LOL

As a side note, I hated many aspects of coaching and don't know how my dad did it for so many years. I do understand how he got three ulcers in three years, and it was NOT the kids or even his coaching duties. I'd also like to add that I was not a good coach, nor am I cut out for anything other than teaching the basics and making sure the children understand the fun and fundamentals of basketball. I do not have the competitive nature, nor do I possess the strategic mind with which to win games. I am so into the beauty and emotion of the sport that my mind is clouded by just taking all that in during games. I was a good Assistant Coach that hated it when she was put in the position of coaching a game because the Head Coach couldn't make it.

I do not know any of the current Girls Basketball Team members, Coaching staff, School Officials, and parents. I am taking this time to relate a few of my experiences with my players, parents, children, and Coaching Staff AND a few lessons learned that came through embarrassment, struggle, heartbreak, and pride.

Let's get to the quick of it. Emily tried out for the seventh grade team and brought a friend. You know what happened. Emily didn't make the team and her friend did. Emily was the far better player, but her friend had height. Only twelve players could make the team. Thirteen tried out. THIRTEEN TRIED OUT!

Terry, the Traveling Team Head Coach, told me that he and the High School Head Coach, Jon, had discussed the try-outs; and that, Jon had decided to cut Emily. I was outraged and heartbroken. We discussed the decision and decided to wait to tell Emily until I had a go with Jon.

Questioning the Head Coach's decision presented a huge bag of bug-a-boos for me. My dad had been a Head Coach. I'd gone through the turmoil of an Assistant Coach who questioned my dad's capabilities and tactics. He had done this through petitions and newspaper articles, and I had no intention of going that far. I'd heard my dad's side and explanation about a whole slew of issues from human interaction to "don't take things personally" to "he wants my job." I still hate, yeah hate, Mike O'Connell for his actions. I certainly didn't want to be "Like Mike", but, "Come On!"

I failed to sway Jon with all my practical arguments about it being seventh grade meaning we could use extra players because of Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, how Emily's true talent as a Point Guard could help the team, and the indignity of putting Marilyn on the team because of her height when she only came because Emily brought her. Emily was the far better player, but I failed. Given my experience and beliefs, I accepted my failure and part of the responsibility for the upcoming difficult times.

I called Terry, told him what he already knew, and he agreed to call Emily and her parents even though I offered. I'd known Emily ever since we got Milo and had to tell her that she couldn't have him. I'd always liked Emily since then. Her parents were nice, too. I did tell Terry to have Emily and her parents call me if they wanted to. They did.

My conversation with her dad was one of the hardest conversations I've ever had. I explained that I thought it was the wrong decision; and that, as an Assistant Coach I was bound by personal beliefs to uphold this poor decision. I expressed my remorse. I asked if Emily wanted to talk to me, but she was too upset.

"Please tell Emily what I've said," I told him, "Please tell her that we KNOW she's a good player and will get better. Please tell her to try out again next year. Tell her to remember that Michael Jordan didn't make his eighth grade team."

The season that ensued was wonderful, but we suffered for this decision in exactly the ways that Terry and I had told Jon that we would. We soldiered on. I saw some of the most amazing basketball that I've ever seen in my life. We all learned, including Emily's friend, to be better members of a team and far more.

The next year with another invite to be the Assistant Coach, a promise of $250 for my efforts and a polo; I went to try-outs fully knowing that as soon as Emily's foot hit the court; she'd made the team. Terry and I agreed to do whatever it took to make it happen. When Emily walked into the gym, Terry and I looked at each other and smiled. We looked at Jon who was oblivious. We didn't tell Emily of our decision.

Whether or my daughter mentioned our predetermined decision to Emily, I don't know. Children will break confidences for their friends' sakes, so if she did; Kudos to her. If she didn't; Kudos to her.

The biggest Kudos goes to Emily for trying out again. I had no doubts that Emily was a fierce player. I had no doubts that she could hold her own with our star players. In fact, I recruited two more players to try out. One of them was Emily's back-up, and just a little less talented simply due to mental fortitude. Emily was strong. Emily showed her strength and more that day at try-outs. I know I betrayed my feelings for her when she walked in the door. I wanted to, discreetly. Don't know how discreet I was. Emily had a great try-out. Emily made the team because of her talent, not because of our predetermined decision.

The following season was dismal. It was the last season that I coached based on so many reasons, but mainly because I didn't enjoy the peripherals of coaching. Oh, to have those days back again in a perfect world. All the girls would've listened to me like Emily. All the girls would've showed the grounded, decision making capabilities combined with the abilities to react instantly to instruction. Emily was my favorite Point Guard because when I asked her to execute a Half-Court 1-2-2 Trap in the middle of a game when none of the other players would listen to me; she did it.

Not only did Emily execute the Zone Defense technique, she did so perfectly. She trapped the ball handler, stole the ball, raced down the court and made her uncontested lay-up more than once! I went nuts, regained my composure enough to instruct my distracted players to play instead of watching me. OH GOD! It was so hard to regain my composure and focus. I wanted to dance all over the court. I wanted to run around like a lunatic simply based on this one MAJOR accomplishment. Dang Coaching cutting into my joy at being RIGHT! Not only did Emily lead the way, the rest of the team followed when they saw that it worked and played to their strengths.

Ahhhhh. sigh. Relief. It felt so good to be publicly vindicated even if I made a fool of myself during the whole affair.

My dad was at that game. It's the only time he ever saw me coach. I had to coach because Terry couldn't make it. I didn't find out til about an hour before the game. It was at Stevenson High School where my brother was an All Conference Basketball player. My children were there, of course. I'd been struggling to sneak in a bit of Zone Defense all season because the girls were well aware that Jon was only going to run Man-to-Man Defense when they got to High School next year. We were losing every game this season. HELP!

After we lost the game by fewer points than before, my dad said, "You sure yell a lot."

I'd asked what he thought of my coaching. Ouch. I know I didn't tell him at the time what was going on, but let me correct that now.

"Dad. Yes. I did yell a lot, and I didn't like it at all until that moment when I lost it because the beauty and emotion of the game took over. I lost it, People. All the frustration of the season was released in that moment of absolute joy. Emily Bellefeuille provided me with my most beautiful moment in Basketball History."

"And Dad, just so you and everyone else knows; I got through so many experiences because you, like Emily's parents, gave me enough good stuff while raising me. The stuff had nothing to do with material possessions. It has a lot to do with taking responsibility, respect, joy, and insight. So many of your words (and Mom's words) have come out of my mouth throughout the years like, 'The best competition is with yourself. If each player brings their best to the court, the whole team is better for it.' Your honesty in the moment may be harsh at times, but you are receptive to discussion and not above apologizing when you make a mistake. That's just a bit of how my parents have contributed to my artistic soul."

Remember the people behind the decisions. Remember that if the children are lucky, they will learn from all experiences. Sometimes the most fruitful lessons come from overcoming bad decisions, or at least I hope so because I've been a party to some doozies.

Thank you, Emily. Thank you to Emily's parents. Thank you to Terry. Thank you to my parents. Thank you to my children for tagging along, keeping stats and managing.

My daughter wasn't good enough for the team, nor did she want to play. She took stats and helped me teach her brother how to keep stats. I did make my daughter practice with the team sometimes. She hated it. My son just ran around.

Guess I'll thank myself for two years of being involved in a pretty healthy activity and including my children. Thank you to all the members of the Park District of Highland Park's 1996 & 1997 Girls Basketball Youth Travel Team. Thank you to a few of the parents, but not all.

No thanks for Jon, yet. No thanks for Mike, yet, either. No thanks to a few choice parents. My nature is not so Pollyannaish (and I have been referred to as Pollyannaish many times) as to say that your decisions and behavior made me a stronger person even if they might be contributing factors because my ability to go forward is a product of an overactive survival instinct coupled with my own brand of "Make the World a Better Place" and "We may lose the game, but the season is not lost." The truth is your bad decisions and actions caused me a lot of pain that wasn't and isn't fun to deal with and has impeded my forward momentum more than helped it. With each passing year, I seem to get a little better at letting go, though. The memories will not go away. Please also understand that I don't let myself off the hook easily for my bad decisions and actions, either. I don't plan on starting to, either. My mistakes are pivotal in how I approach the world. I wish I hadn't made them, but because I have; I do my best to learn more quickly, be more compassionate, and well ... all y'all know all this, right?

Here's to the 2010 HPHS Girls Basketball Team and their Conference Championship! You did what my girls did not, and there were some amazing athletes among my girls. All my best to you in the following days and all your years to come.

How Did It Get Soooo Late?!

It is 11:03pm. My eyes hurt. The weather is cold and rainy. Body's a bit sore, too.

The last two days I've put in a lot of hours. I was up til 4am the last two nights, so it's no wonder that I'm a bit sore. No worries. Just been busy doing work and blog related stuff. I get lost in the computer when I'm on a roll. I'm sure I'm not unique in this one. Web Design and Development seems like a great choice for a Summer School class considering my interest/obcession.

I did go to the Ravinia Job Fair. It was OK. About 50 people applied for 10 positions. sigh Our interviewer said he'd been hearing all day that people have been out of work for over a year. I'm not really depressed about it. It's hard to get depressed about the possibility of not getting a job that pays $8/hour and would top out at 25-30 hours/week.

I have another interview tomorrow for a nanny position, and we'll see how that goes. Friday another interview for a nanny position, and we'll see how that goes. May 22nd is my big bug-a-boo day with an appointment downtown that I'm forcing myself to go to for my own good. As always, I'll let you know.

On the home front:

Duncan grilled in our garage tonight. Awesome cheeseburgers.

The place is looking better and better every day.

Got the go ahead on the ROTOTILLER from the landlord, so Farmer Michelle will be working hard next week. I'm so excited. I saw corn seeds at the store tonight. I want to plant corn! Asparagus, Sweet Peppers, Hot Peppers, Tomatoes, HERBS!, and who knows what else. I'm going for the pricey things that I like to eat. I'm hoping to have a Harvest Party in the Fall. Gotta have a goal!

I'm going to rest my eyes, but before I do; please indulge me this one last Kavetch - MY FRICKIN' "A" KEY IS STICKING! THIS IS THE BIGGEST LITTLE PAIN IN THE ARSE I'VE HAD IN AGES. RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Take care. Sweet dreams. All my best. Guess this is one of those boring posts, but still .... any gardening advice, open jobs, suggestions for post topics, and whatever you wish - is appreciated. :D

The Swell Season is Back!

The Swell Season - Heyday (Bonnaroo 2008) [a Mic Christopher cover]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0VhWEQRXMUM

The Swell Season, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova of "Once" and "Falling Slowly" fame, stole my heart when I watched "Once" in the privacy of my own home. To date, I think it is the best little indie film to ever be made. The DVD is worth owning even if you've never seen it. I don't own it yet. I ate it up once when I rented it.

The Swell Season - Falling Slowly (Bonnaroo 2008)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKkDTuzahQA

(If you want to hear hear/see the performances, you'll have to copy and paste the address to your address bar in a new page ... I haven't figured out how to link to a site, yet. Working on it. :D ------> A HUGE THANK YOU TO YOUTUBE & the PEOPLE WHO POSTED THESE VIDEOS)

The Swell Season will be in concert at Ravinia Festival on July 14th. Of all the amazing artists on the schedule this year, I think this is the one concert I'd pay to be on the lawn for. $22 Lawn Tickets. sigh

How's that for a combined music and movie review along with a bit-o-promotion?


My tomorrow is busy. So is my today, but my tomorrow is actually scheduled with outside activities. Things are ramping up. Three set appointments for tomorrow. All job related. Then another on May 22nd, FOR SURE, DANG IT!

I just inserted a phone interview into today. :D Part II later tonight. :D Rockin' & Rollin'! ... and now my meet-and-greet has been rescheduled to 3:30 on Friday. Yippee! Half-Price Soy Strawberries and Cream Frappuccino for "Happy Hour"!

Off to find the photo printer because the camera card is full, and I have this amazing "Still Life" sitting next to me. I've been wanting to add some pics, and I know how to do that, basically. The photo printer is buried under a pile, I just know it. I really should do a "Clutter Still Life" collection. I think my piles are pretty artist, or at least defy physics.

OK, enjoy the musical interlude. I am. Do well. Smile. Here we go! "I've got to move it, move it!"

A quickie.

It's been an action packed weekend, so today's post is just this.  I'm a slug today.  No energy.  It's OK.  I've rested and done a bit of work stuff.  Tomorrow will be more productive.

Take care.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

My mother is essentially a very private person.  She's been this way since she was a child for very good reasons.  To write about my love and admiration for my mother without disturbing her privacy will be hard, but out of respect for her; I'm going to do my best.

The details I can tell you about are related to me, I suppose.  She might be a bit upset with my choices, but she's likely to forgive me eventually.  So what else is new.  :D

To put almost fifty years of memories into one post is impossible.  It is also impossible to sum it all up in just one story, and a list of glories wouldn't even come close to doing her justice.

I love my mother because of how she raised me.  She raised me to be an independent thinker.  Unfortunately, this upbringing has come back to bite her in the butt.  I know this is an unexpected consequence that has frustrated her immensely over the years. 

Oh, that I could've been the "Preppy" daughter she dreamed of, but the world was too big and bold for simple "Preppy" fashions and beliefs; or at least, that's the way I saw it.  "Preppy" is a part of my fashion repertoire, but not the staple.  I did make a great "Preppy" one Halloween on Madison's State Street.  That was the best "Preppy" outfit I ever put together; white button-down shirt, straight-leg jeans, saddle shoes, hair pulled back in a pony-tail with perfectly curled bangs, and a white windbreaker with blue and red stripes on the ribbed collar and cuffs.  It was a tribute to Mom and all of her dreams for me; my nightmares.

She would've loved hearing my friends say, "Aren't you wearing a costume?" 

To which I replied, "I am!"

She would've been rolling her eyes and shaking her head just like they did.

One of the things I love about my mother is that she is "EveryMom."  When I talk to my friends, we all seem to end up talking about ways that our mothers drive us nuts.  We all know that we love and respect our mothers, BUT they drive us nuts.  She drives me nuts in some of the same ways that my friends' mothers drive them nuts.  She has provided a great bonding boulevard for me to follow.  She's not too bad.  She's not too good.  She's just right .... all of the time, if you ask her.  Just kidding, Mom.  Sort of.  :D

All teasing aside, mainly because she hates being teased; another reason I love my mom is because our relationship is constantly evolving.  As the years have progressed, we've changed together.  We still fight.  We still hug and kiss.  We still laugh together.  We still confide in each other.  We have just refined most of it. 

My language has become less refined over the years, but then again; so has hers!  The first time I heard my mom drop the "F-Bomb" in a casual, contemporary way; I nearly had a heart attack.  Seriously!  She laughed. 

I love my mom because she has a devilish side.  She likes to drive fast.  She really likes to drive fast. 

When my mom and dad were younger, they used to race home from Home Basketball games.  They had two cars because Dad would already be at school, and Mom and I would go to the game after we'd eaten something.  After the games, Mom and Dad would meet up somewhere in the gym, give each other a kiss, and decide on the race destination.  They would pick one destination to meet at before going home.  After agreeing on the mid-point destination, they would ask me who I wanted to ride with.  I usually picked Mom.  I knew she was fast and cunning.  We would take off from the high school with me in the back seat bouncing up and down cheering my driver on.  No, I was not wearing a seat belt.  Please.  One particularly good race had a gravel parking lot as a destination.  Mom blasted into it and skidded to a stop throwing up a cloud of dust.  She was so cool. 

Mom was so cool that we just used to hang out together all weekend in our pajamas.  That used to drive Dad nuts.  We didn't care.  We spent our weekend doing whatever we wanted; just the girls.  I don't remember what we talked about, but I do know we talked for hours.  I'm sure some of the subjects were fashion, politics, movies and movie stars, music, sports, and who knows what else.  Man, how we could talk.  It was so relaxing hanging out with my mom.  I loved it.  I loved our pajama weekends.

When I think back on all the years that I didn't talk to Mom either out of anger or ignorance, I love her to the point of tears because I know just a fraction of how much it hurt her and the toll it took on her.  I know because I'm a mom now, too.

Oh the many, many phone calls that started with, "I'm sorry."  The first time I called and said it, she was confused.

"What are you talking about?" she asked impatiently.

"Remember that time I told you that you were 'just a secretary' and how much it hurt you," I said, "Well, my daughter just told me that basically my job embarrasses her.  'Yeah, well, you're just a stupid Public Access Producer'."

"Oh," Mom said, "Yes.  That was mean of you."

"Yeah.  I'm sorry."

"Well, thank you.  your daughter's just being mean.  You can't take it personally.  I know it hurts, but you've got to show her that you're stronger than that.  You can't let her get away with things like that.  I didn't let you."

"No, you didn't, but you sure have waited a long time for an apology."

"I wasn't waiting, but thank you."

After that first call there were many, many, many more calls that started with the "I'm sorry" either because my daughter, my son or both brats had done something to hurt my feelings, and I didn't have a husband's shoulder to cry on.  Mom's "What did she do now" turned into "What did they do now."  Mom was my shoulder to cry on way back when and even today except I can't cry on her shoulder so much any more because I have to think of her health and what she can handle. 

Having just written that, I remember Mom saying the same thing about her mom.  My dear grandma drove her daughter nuts sometimes, too; but Mom loved her so much.  When the time came that Mom had to put Grandma's health before her own needs and desires, Mom turned to me.  That's when we really started getting close again.  That and when I became a mom.

I love my mom because as I look at the totality of human existence and the existence of women in particular, I am consoled that she and I are walking a path that is as old as time itself for the lucky.  We are a couple of cogs in the wheel of life.  We're a little damaged, but not so bad that we're completely dragging down the ship.  In fact, if you asked either of us on any given day; we'd gladly tell you how we've sacrificed for our families and solved most of the problems.  We're right.  We usually are.  We're mothers; mothers who love deeply and completely whether we like it or not.

Oh, and we're well aware that we drive each other nuts.  That doesn't stop us from loving each other.  This is why I love Mom.  She taught me the complexities of being a woman who raises her children to be able to think for themselves and make their own decisions even if the decisions are opposed to her own desires.  She gave me wings; so that, I might give my children wings.  We're still trying to figure out how to make the time and miles apart hurt a little less, but we love each other; so we'll just focus on that for now.  Besides, we both know that the distance can be conquered with a well-placed phone call. 

Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that I have been posting most of my blog posts from my mom's laptop.  Mom recently called me to talk about a former friend's cinematography and to bust me for taking her laptop without asking her first.  You know the saying, "It's easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission"?  Well, we'll never know, now will we.  "Guilty as charged," was all I could say besides, "I'm sorry."  One of my co-conspirators narced.  He shall remain nameless, NOT - Dad.  My other co-conspirator filled me in on the details.  I was rolling. 

I really am very lucky to have a mom who's gone from "don't ever put anything in writing" to "would you just write it already."  We're constantly evolving.  Thank you, Mom.  I've written every day for over a month, now.  You've played a bigger part in it than you'll ever know.

I love you, Mom.  Happy Mother's Day today and every day.