"It's just another New Year's Eve".... so the Barry Manilow lyrics remind us this time each year. I'm sure that song was meant to be an encouragement to all those who, like me, have hated New Year's Eves since practically the beginning of time....Dan Fogelberg's little New Year's ditty was pretty darn depressing though. yeah - don't we all want to meet up with our old lover in a grocery store and still go away lonely! I don't like this day. And I'm not sure I can put my finger on why....it's most likely the ridonkulous expectations we pin on this day that I am victim to - i.e. you need to be in love with someone, you need to be out at a slammin' party on this night, you have a fresh new year ahead of you,......Bah Humbug! Sorry, my first name ain't Polly and the middle name is not Anna.
The only New Year's eves I remember actually liking were when I was a kid and was "allowed" to stay up to see the New Year in....it was one of the few times in my life when potato chips and dip and soda (read "pop" - I AM from Pittsburgh) were brought into our house. And we banged pots and pans at midnight much to the neighbors' chagrin I imagine (imagine my surprise when I moved to central PA and now hear rifles going off! Oh the joys of Hooterville!). I also liked when I was old enough to babysit. Those were nights of rakin' in the big bucks. Instead of a mere $.50/hour, the special event rate was somewhere in the neighborhood of $1.00/hour with a shift differential after midnight. Fortunately my clients liked to party til about 3 a.m. And there was one party when I was a senior in high school I think - it's all a foggy memory now - but somebody's older brother brought booze. I know - you're shocked - prudish little Marcia Brady wannabe (well, not anymore) actually had alcohol??? And last year, attempting to play Rock Band 2 was a blast. And I sincerely mean I attempted. Not succeeded. I also enjoyed the year I had a youth group lock in going on overnight...well except for the crockpot of sloppy joe that had spilled in my car on the way to the church....I guess if I were to choose, the BEST NY Eve I've ever had was in Vermont. Being with family, watching the candlelight skiiers come down the mountain, a crackling fire, too much to eat and a game of Scrabble where my nephews I think, were shocked into realizing I was not quite the aunt they thought. And I'm pretty sure they even still like me! Ranking right up there with the Vermont experience was the New Year's Eve we spent in San Francisco - which was the kickoff of our honeymoon. It was an exhausting day of travel, followed by hassling with the hotel clerk, we fell dead asleep across the hotel bed. We woke up to the sound of fireworks being set off over by the Golden Gate Bridge- which, although we couldn't see firsthand, had a gorgeous reflection of them in the windows of the neighboring hotel.....breathtaking.
So that's about the sum total of New Year's Eves that I've enjoyed.
The one year I did get to go to a club downtown for the big buffet and dancing, I had a temp of over 102. But dang it, we weren't going to waste those tickets! So the ex-hubby (he wasn't the ex at the time, just in case you were wondering) dragged me along with his sister and her husband to have a grand New Year's celebration! Oh it was grand, let me tell you - especially getting home in time to bow before the porcelain goddess.
In recent years, it's mostly sitting around, feeling like I should be doing something special....not feeling like anything special....feeling like I should stay up til midnight....not really wanting to....
I would love to do First Night but
1. it's not something I want to do alone.
2. I hate to be cold (and many years, let's face it - it's been more frigid than the Queen Mother out there) and I still haven't managed to get myself any Under Armour. Then there are the years like this one, when it is so temperate, those ice sculptures are just not gonna make it.
3. I don't have any little kiddies to take down to the events to be awestruck....and frankly I don't find everyone else's kids nearly as cute as they do. So I'm awful- I'll admit it.
4. Everything that used to be free now needs that darn button - it's a matter of principle. Nor do I want to pay 5 bucks for a cup of hot chocolate.
5. Seems like if you don't have kids, or romance, First Night is not the place you wanna be.
6. There is a matter of family principle that causes me to stay away....won't go into it here but it has to do with the origin of First Night in State College. Just don't feel right partaking.
This year we have been invited to 2 different parties. I'm absolutely amazed. Most years, my kids have been invited to more parties than I....even if they were only invited to 1.
I'm trying to think of what my ideal for this night would be....can't come up with it. I used to dream of wearing a slinky black dress to some swanky affair....with unforgettable hors d'ouvres, spectacular entertainment, the love of my life by my side and dazzling fun for an entire evening.
Now I'm thinking that the year we rented Fievel Goes West and had a "party" (chips and soda) with Chris, who was 2 at the time might have been more of a night to remember. My pjs weren't slinky but they bring back a warm fuzzy memory.
Don't misunderstand....I do have some hopes and dream....and friends for whom I am sincerely praying this New Year brings peace, happiness, prosperity....I am not a complete curmudgeon (though I am being trained by the best)....
So tomorrow I will probably post something profound of letting go of the old year....and decade....and what I hope to embrace in the new.... but if I were to do that right now I would either need dramamine....or insulin. So I'll just get back to making my chicken-broccoli picnic breads for the aforementioned parties and see if I can find anything to wear.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
Celebrating Unexpected Gifts
In a few minutes it will be Christmas Eve. I love Christmas time....usually. I am typically the one who catches the wave of Christmas spirit sometime in October and rides it through the 6th of January. This year has been different - I've had a serious case of the Cindy Lou Who Where Are You Christmas? Syndrome (CLWWAYCS) Those closest to me or even those choosing to keep their distance who know me via Facebook can attest to the fact that I have struggled mightily these past several weeks. Falling behind in all manner of Christmas preparation.....feeling Christmasy....having any goodwill toward men....or women. Or even children and small animals for that matter!
As I said, it is very nearly Christmas Eve and still there is not a single light hung that would tell neighbors or those driving by that we even know what season it is. There is not a single cookie baked. The final present was purchased at approximately 10 p.m. this evening....which is not too bad considering the first one was bought at approximately noon yesterday.
My current state of being would not divulge to an onlooker the extreme range of emotions I have traveled in the recent past - everything from utter frustration to downright weariness...with a few fits of rage but also some buoyant happiness thrown in between.
This has been very disturbing to me. (and to those around me to whom I sincerely apologize) I am the Christmas Girl! For crying out loud, I believe in Santa- for real. It is my dream to be Mrs. Santa when I grow up!
And yet in the midst of this longing for something that seems unattainable this holiday season, I am very aware of some gifts I received even before the tree finally made it in the door...and some that continue to quietly, almost unobservedly make their way and their presence known in my life.
1. My mom.
Of course, she didn't just show up in my life. She's been around for....well, all of it. But I know many people who will be celebrating Christmas this year with a hole in their hearts....and would give their right arms and legs to have one more Christmas with their mothers. In fact, there was a period of about 8 months 2 years ago where I thought I would have surely joined those ranks. But we are blessed to still have her with us....and in fact, one of the many reasons so much was left til the end (and still remains undone) is that Mom requested to go her church last Sunday, followed by the Christmas lunch. So I went to Pittsburgh to make sure she got there. She doesn't often want to go to church anymore, so this was a big deal. And her presence there was like the Queen Mother returning after a long trip. When they announced from the pulpit that they were glad to see her, the congregation burst into spontaneous applause. It was my privilege to be her escort and I will probably be posting a blog about her in the near future.
2. M34
The experience of playing Doris Walker this holiday season bestowed upon me innumerable and immeasurable
gifts.....friends....opportunity....laughter....and so much more that would just make this blog unbearably long to read....one of the most significant effects was to receive a gift bag and card 2 days after the show closed, from one of the students in my school whom I had recruited for the cast......the card thanked me for this "amazing opportunity"....and she had written that I had "inspired" her. Wow. Wow. I can't think of anything better in the whole world than to have influenced a kid in a positive way. But for a 6th grader to tell me I inspired her? Well, I don't think even Santa OR the red Lexus or Mercedes can compete with that one.
3. Endorphins.
No this is not some new toy on the market, nor does it have anything to do with dwarves. Rather, it has been the few but important opportunities to laugh.....the Sisters of Soiree did our thing a few weeks ago...that is to say...we soireed.....and the laughter was raucous and bawdy and much much needed. On the final day of school before break, I customarily help lead the interim singing for our school Christmas program. This year, one of the teachers came to tell me afterward that I have a beautiful voice. That simple compliment couldn't have been more profound considering the concerns I've been having about my voice and ability of late. My grandpuppyson came today for the holidays and it is impossible to spend any time at all with him without laughing. I was even victim to incidental giggling when someone with whom I don't have a very fond mutual relationship, posted something in response to my comment on another friend's facebook status that was genuinely funny. And ya know...it felt good to know that even though he and I will probably never belong to a mutual admiration society, I could have a moment of appreciation of his humor.
4. Sharing Christmas.
This might seem contradictory to the opening paragraphs. But it is in sharing Christmas that I have found those few and far between glimpses of my own Christmas spirit. A young woman with whom I have been acquainted through my travels to Estonia has spent the last few weeks in town visiting her fiance. He works each evening so I offered to spend some time with her. One evening we went out for a quick dinner, then after an appointment I had, we went to see the Lights on the Lake display at Lakemont Park. Her enjoyment and awe were so genuine and delightful that I found myself feeling a little lighter in heart that evening. I even talked her into having our picture taken with Santa....something she did NOT really want to consider at first. She and her fiance joined us here this afternoon for an early dinner and she stayed and visited for a while afterward. Sitting in the (finally straightened up) living room with the tree lights on and the candlelit Nativity scene, we talked about Estonia, and family and Christmas and music. Which led to her playing the piano that usually sits silent in my home because none of us have ever learned to play it. Without any artwork on my walls or carpeting on the floor, the sound was resonant and beautiful and the memory of it brings tears to my eyes as I type.
5. Love.
While this seems like a no brainer, I am struck by the realization that I am loved....oh I know, my family loves me...and they tell me this regularly. But love has come to me in other, truly unexpected forms recently......in a box of truffles (oh my gosh...what an experience a truffle is! - talk about endorphins!)....in beautiful flowers at the M34 performance....in a poinsetta before leaving school for the holidays....in a concerned text message....in the Sisters of Soiree loading up a van and coming to the M34 performance.....in receiving a treasured "souvenir" of becoming and being Doris at the Playhouse....in a story that makes me appreciate the color orange....in a festive tin from The Popcorn Factory thanking me for caring for my mom....in a box of dark chocolate non-pareils......in my sons doing the dishes this evening.....
6. Tradition.
Christmas tradition was always big in my family growing up. And I was the one who held voraciously to it. You just don't mess with tradition when it comes to me and Christmas (which, as I think about it, might be part of the initial presenting issue of this post - my being behind is not allowing me to carry out tradition) My younger sister and I have this practice of trying to be the first to call the other on the 23rd of December to sing "It's the Day Before the Night Before Christmas" - a song that was on an old album we had as kids. In recent years, my sons have gotten in on the game, reminding me to call her just after midnight or asking who "won" this year. Our cell phone service was down last night so Leslie won by default, although I didn't get the message til this morning. I had tried to call. And I saw that early in the day I had received a text from my older son saying "It's the Day Before the Night Before Christmas!" and that made me smile....but not nearly as much as hearing the boys talking tonight and apparently he had CALLED his brother to tell him the same thing at 6:15 a.m.! That they may carry on this silly little practice brings me a great measure of joy. Another little tidbit that means the world to me was our discussion of what, if any cookie gets baked, should be our possibly one and only kind of Christmas cookie. The vote was unanimous - and it just happened to be my own favorite- thumbprints!
I miss having my village display up. I miss lights in the windows. I miss the beautiful decorations that hold wonderful memories that I just had no time or space to place throughout our little house. I am sad that I didn't get on the stick with Advent readings and reflection this year. Mostly I feel lost without a church home in which to be singing with choirs and worship teams, or a kids' Christmas play to write and direct or any of the other activities to which I had been accustomed in driving home the real celebration going on here.
I think there are going to be some presents under the tree for me this year. And I will love and appreciate them. But the recognition of the gifts listed here will also play a very large part in Christmas coming to my heart. I do expect its arrival....even though later than usual...and later than I would have liked....but I am believing it will come - and when it does, I will welcome it.
And as I finish this post, I realize it is now Christmas Eve and has been for over an hour....which means that I have just received another gift - the ability to sit and think through and write about, much that has eluded me. If you've made it this far, thanks for hanging in there. I consider it an honor....and yes, another gift for the list!
Merry Christmas!
As I said, it is very nearly Christmas Eve and still there is not a single light hung that would tell neighbors or those driving by that we even know what season it is. There is not a single cookie baked. The final present was purchased at approximately 10 p.m. this evening....which is not too bad considering the first one was bought at approximately noon yesterday.
My current state of being would not divulge to an onlooker the extreme range of emotions I have traveled in the recent past - everything from utter frustration to downright weariness...with a few fits of rage but also some buoyant happiness thrown in between.
This has been very disturbing to me. (and to those around me to whom I sincerely apologize) I am the Christmas Girl! For crying out loud, I believe in Santa- for real. It is my dream to be Mrs. Santa when I grow up!
And yet in the midst of this longing for something that seems unattainable this holiday season, I am very aware of some gifts I received even before the tree finally made it in the door...and some that continue to quietly, almost unobservedly make their way and their presence known in my life.
1. My mom.
Of course, she didn't just show up in my life. She's been around for....well, all of it. But I know many people who will be celebrating Christmas this year with a hole in their hearts....and would give their right arms and legs to have one more Christmas with their mothers. In fact, there was a period of about 8 months 2 years ago where I thought I would have surely joined those ranks. But we are blessed to still have her with us....and in fact, one of the many reasons so much was left til the end (and still remains undone) is that Mom requested to go her church last Sunday, followed by the Christmas lunch. So I went to Pittsburgh to make sure she got there. She doesn't often want to go to church anymore, so this was a big deal. And her presence there was like the Queen Mother returning after a long trip. When they announced from the pulpit that they were glad to see her, the congregation burst into spontaneous applause. It was my privilege to be her escort and I will probably be posting a blog about her in the near future.
2. M34
The experience of playing Doris Walker this holiday season bestowed upon me innumerable and immeasurable
gifts.....friends....opportunity....laughter....and so much more that would just make this blog unbearably long to read....one of the most significant effects was to receive a gift bag and card 2 days after the show closed, from one of the students in my school whom I had recruited for the cast......the card thanked me for this "amazing opportunity"....and she had written that I had "inspired" her. Wow. Wow. I can't think of anything better in the whole world than to have influenced a kid in a positive way. But for a 6th grader to tell me I inspired her? Well, I don't think even Santa OR the red Lexus or Mercedes can compete with that one.
3. Endorphins.
No this is not some new toy on the market, nor does it have anything to do with dwarves. Rather, it has been the few but important opportunities to laugh.....the Sisters of Soiree did our thing a few weeks ago...that is to say...we soireed.....and the laughter was raucous and bawdy and much much needed. On the final day of school before break, I customarily help lead the interim singing for our school Christmas program. This year, one of the teachers came to tell me afterward that I have a beautiful voice. That simple compliment couldn't have been more profound considering the concerns I've been having about my voice and ability of late. My grandpuppyson came today for the holidays and it is impossible to spend any time at all with him without laughing. I was even victim to incidental giggling when someone with whom I don't have a very fond mutual relationship, posted something in response to my comment on another friend's facebook status that was genuinely funny. And ya know...it felt good to know that even though he and I will probably never belong to a mutual admiration society, I could have a moment of appreciation of his humor.
4. Sharing Christmas.
This might seem contradictory to the opening paragraphs. But it is in sharing Christmas that I have found those few and far between glimpses of my own Christmas spirit. A young woman with whom I have been acquainted through my travels to Estonia has spent the last few weeks in town visiting her fiance. He works each evening so I offered to spend some time with her. One evening we went out for a quick dinner, then after an appointment I had, we went to see the Lights on the Lake display at Lakemont Park. Her enjoyment and awe were so genuine and delightful that I found myself feeling a little lighter in heart that evening. I even talked her into having our picture taken with Santa....something she did NOT really want to consider at first. She and her fiance joined us here this afternoon for an early dinner and she stayed and visited for a while afterward. Sitting in the (finally straightened up) living room with the tree lights on and the candlelit Nativity scene, we talked about Estonia, and family and Christmas and music. Which led to her playing the piano that usually sits silent in my home because none of us have ever learned to play it. Without any artwork on my walls or carpeting on the floor, the sound was resonant and beautiful and the memory of it brings tears to my eyes as I type.
5. Love.
While this seems like a no brainer, I am struck by the realization that I am loved....oh I know, my family loves me...and they tell me this regularly. But love has come to me in other, truly unexpected forms recently......in a box of truffles (oh my gosh...what an experience a truffle is! - talk about endorphins!)....in beautiful flowers at the M34 performance....in a poinsetta before leaving school for the holidays....in a concerned text message....in the Sisters of Soiree loading up a van and coming to the M34 performance.....in receiving a treasured "souvenir" of becoming and being Doris at the Playhouse....in a story that makes me appreciate the color orange....in a festive tin from The Popcorn Factory thanking me for caring for my mom....in a box of dark chocolate non-pareils......in my sons doing the dishes this evening.....
6. Tradition.
Christmas tradition was always big in my family growing up. And I was the one who held voraciously to it. You just don't mess with tradition when it comes to me and Christmas (which, as I think about it, might be part of the initial presenting issue of this post - my being behind is not allowing me to carry out tradition) My younger sister and I have this practice of trying to be the first to call the other on the 23rd of December to sing "It's the Day Before the Night Before Christmas" - a song that was on an old album we had as kids. In recent years, my sons have gotten in on the game, reminding me to call her just after midnight or asking who "won" this year. Our cell phone service was down last night so Leslie won by default, although I didn't get the message til this morning. I had tried to call. And I saw that early in the day I had received a text from my older son saying "It's the Day Before the Night Before Christmas!" and that made me smile....but not nearly as much as hearing the boys talking tonight and apparently he had CALLED his brother to tell him the same thing at 6:15 a.m.! That they may carry on this silly little practice brings me a great measure of joy. Another little tidbit that means the world to me was our discussion of what, if any cookie gets baked, should be our possibly one and only kind of Christmas cookie. The vote was unanimous - and it just happened to be my own favorite- thumbprints!
I miss having my village display up. I miss lights in the windows. I miss the beautiful decorations that hold wonderful memories that I just had no time or space to place throughout our little house. I am sad that I didn't get on the stick with Advent readings and reflection this year. Mostly I feel lost without a church home in which to be singing with choirs and worship teams, or a kids' Christmas play to write and direct or any of the other activities to which I had been accustomed in driving home the real celebration going on here.
I think there are going to be some presents under the tree for me this year. And I will love and appreciate them. But the recognition of the gifts listed here will also play a very large part in Christmas coming to my heart. I do expect its arrival....even though later than usual...and later than I would have liked....but I am believing it will come - and when it does, I will welcome it.
And as I finish this post, I realize it is now Christmas Eve and has been for over an hour....which means that I have just received another gift - the ability to sit and think through and write about, much that has eluded me. If you've made it this far, thanks for hanging in there. I consider it an honor....and yes, another gift for the list!
Merry Christmas!
Friday, November 26, 2010
"It's the Most Wonderful Music of the Year" - so don't mess with it!
It is the day after Thanksgiving - what used to be the official start of the holiday season....I won't go into a dissertation about how much earlier everything starts...yadda yadda. It's true I officially start listening (albeit sporadically) to Christmas music on October 15 but I don't jump in to Black Friday sales, or Thanksgiving Day decorating so I don't know if I should be labeled a traditionalist or a non-conformist when it comes to all things Christmas.
But in terms of the music - I just might be a purist. There are certain things that just need to....or NOT to...happen with Christmas music.
The song, "White Christmas" should not be sung for performance by anybody other than Bing Crosby. Period. Oh....or me. Likewise, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" should primarily be the Gene Autry recording....or a bunch of elementary students (without the underwear line, please). Oh.....or me. "Chestnuts Roasting..." should be Nat King Cole...or ok - even Johnny Mathis....or me. Sidebar - I had a friend in college who insisted Johnny Mathis Christmas music was the best makeout music ever. There's just so much I could say about that....but that would get me off track and I have a tough enough time staying focused.
There are other things that are just wrong with so much of the music played at Christmas time. Barbra Streisand singing Ave Maria. Really? I'm sorry I just have a bit of an issue with making a buck from someone else's religion. I'm not making any plans to record or even perform Adam Sandler's Hanukah song. Don't get me wrong- I love Barbra. Always have. But c'mon, Barb - that's just tacky. Oh and speaking of tacky - Harry Connick Jr.'s song, "I Pray on Christmas" - I love Harry. And of course I'm not opposed to praying - but the lyrics of the song are so dang stupid and meaningless it's like fingernails on a chalkboard to listen to it. I wouldn't even sing that one. And I would do almost anything to have my own Christmas special. Now Harry does have a nice jazzy arrangement of Rudolph that I rather like. And when he asks, "What are You Doing New Year's Eve" - I want to run and check my calendar. I think he and I could do a smokin duet on that one! I mentioned Bing earlier - though he has (well, had) a voice like melted chocolate fudge - his recording of Adeste Fidelis should just not have ever happened. Sounds sort of like a chicken got stuck in his throat. A whole one.
And if we're going to play Christmas music folks, for goodness sake - can we make sure that the station is properly tuned in?? Just another reason to boycott Walmart. :)
And who in the world ever decided that "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music is a Christmas song?? Just because it mentions snowflakes on noses and eyelashes (where incidentally snowflakes do NOT stay unless you're already frozen stiff in which case why the heck would it be one of your favorite things?!)?
While I'm on a song elimination paragraph, let's just throw in Feliz Navidad - not because I am culturally insensitive - but because it's a horrid sounding song. I am more than happy to flush the John Lennon one also. And "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer". Why on earth kids think this is so funny is beyond me. Anything Elvis has to go too. And "The Christmas Shoes"- why don't I just gouge my eyes and heart out with the same pitchfork on THAT one?! I have a whole list. But to include it here might cause you to believe I'm just a big Bah Humbug. Which I'm not - not by any stretch. But I do think some class and decorum is in order for something about which I am so passionate - Christmas.
I have been chagrined this season to discover that so many songs on so many of the CDs I have are either pointless, in poor religious taste, horrible arrangements, or poorly performed. There's just one solution - I need to make my own recording. With many guests.....like - I want Barry Manilow to re-record "Baby It's Cold Outside" (incidentally the purist points out that this song has nothing to do with Christmas)....and I would do anything with Michael Buble..... I meant songs .... what were YOU thinking?? I think I need a little appearance from Steven Curtis Chapman or Chris Tomlin as well. If I could think of a woman who wouldn't upstage me, I'd invite her......Oh - and a little accompaniment here and there from The Boston Pops. And some back up singing by The Mormon Tabernacle Choir ......or does that violate my religion rule for Christmas music? Not sure - ok let's make it the Vienna Boys Choir. We definitely need a number by the Sisters of Soiree - an original composition I think - that's sure to become a classic - and lastly - and most importantly there would definitely be an engineered recording mixing me with some recordings of my dad. He was by far, my favorite person to hear singing things like "O Holy Night" or "Gesu Bambino." I would give anything to sing a duet with him again.
So I will be sure to let you know the release date of my first Christmas CD. And where and when to tune in for my Christmas special. Although I would gladly just accept an invitation to appear on Christmas in Washington. Or maybe I'll just go put on a show in the streets of downtown State College. Sometimes to get a done right - ya gotta do it yourself! ;)
But in terms of the music - I just might be a purist. There are certain things that just need to....or NOT to...happen with Christmas music.
The song, "White Christmas" should not be sung for performance by anybody other than Bing Crosby. Period. Oh....or me. Likewise, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" should primarily be the Gene Autry recording....or a bunch of elementary students (without the underwear line, please). Oh.....or me. "Chestnuts Roasting..." should be Nat King Cole...or ok - even Johnny Mathis....or me. Sidebar - I had a friend in college who insisted Johnny Mathis Christmas music was the best makeout music ever. There's just so much I could say about that....but that would get me off track and I have a tough enough time staying focused.
There are other things that are just wrong with so much of the music played at Christmas time. Barbra Streisand singing Ave Maria. Really? I'm sorry I just have a bit of an issue with making a buck from someone else's religion. I'm not making any plans to record or even perform Adam Sandler's Hanukah song. Don't get me wrong- I love Barbra. Always have. But c'mon, Barb - that's just tacky. Oh and speaking of tacky - Harry Connick Jr.'s song, "I Pray on Christmas" - I love Harry. And of course I'm not opposed to praying - but the lyrics of the song are so dang stupid and meaningless it's like fingernails on a chalkboard to listen to it. I wouldn't even sing that one. And I would do almost anything to have my own Christmas special. Now Harry does have a nice jazzy arrangement of Rudolph that I rather like. And when he asks, "What are You Doing New Year's Eve" - I want to run and check my calendar. I think he and I could do a smokin duet on that one! I mentioned Bing earlier - though he has (well, had) a voice like melted chocolate fudge - his recording of Adeste Fidelis should just not have ever happened. Sounds sort of like a chicken got stuck in his throat. A whole one.
And if we're going to play Christmas music folks, for goodness sake - can we make sure that the station is properly tuned in?? Just another reason to boycott Walmart. :)
And who in the world ever decided that "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music is a Christmas song?? Just because it mentions snowflakes on noses and eyelashes (where incidentally snowflakes do NOT stay unless you're already frozen stiff in which case why the heck would it be one of your favorite things?!)?
While I'm on a song elimination paragraph, let's just throw in Feliz Navidad - not because I am culturally insensitive - but because it's a horrid sounding song. I am more than happy to flush the John Lennon one also. And "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer". Why on earth kids think this is so funny is beyond me. Anything Elvis has to go too. And "The Christmas Shoes"- why don't I just gouge my eyes and heart out with the same pitchfork on THAT one?! I have a whole list. But to include it here might cause you to believe I'm just a big Bah Humbug. Which I'm not - not by any stretch. But I do think some class and decorum is in order for something about which I am so passionate - Christmas.
I have been chagrined this season to discover that so many songs on so many of the CDs I have are either pointless, in poor religious taste, horrible arrangements, or poorly performed. There's just one solution - I need to make my own recording. With many guests.....like - I want Barry Manilow to re-record "Baby It's Cold Outside" (incidentally the purist points out that this song has nothing to do with Christmas)....and I would do anything with Michael Buble..... I meant songs .... what were YOU thinking?? I think I need a little appearance from Steven Curtis Chapman or Chris Tomlin as well. If I could think of a woman who wouldn't upstage me, I'd invite her......Oh - and a little accompaniment here and there from The Boston Pops. And some back up singing by The Mormon Tabernacle Choir ......or does that violate my religion rule for Christmas music? Not sure - ok let's make it the Vienna Boys Choir. We definitely need a number by the Sisters of Soiree - an original composition I think - that's sure to become a classic - and lastly - and most importantly there would definitely be an engineered recording mixing me with some recordings of my dad. He was by far, my favorite person to hear singing things like "O Holy Night" or "Gesu Bambino." I would give anything to sing a duet with him again.
So I will be sure to let you know the release date of my first Christmas CD. And where and when to tune in for my Christmas special. Although I would gladly just accept an invitation to appear on Christmas in Washington. Or maybe I'll just go put on a show in the streets of downtown State College. Sometimes to get a done right - ya gotta do it yourself! ;)
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Upside of Down
Important Disclaimer - this post is not intended to diminish the real pain experienced by someone with clinical depression. It is merely an attempt to find the silver lining in a really crappy day.
I took a sick day the other day because I got home quite late from rehearsal (that being the holiday classic Miracle on 34th Street) with a sore throat. I thought if I got lots of sleep I could kick it in the butt and go on with the show! Awakening after a whopping 4 hours of sleep, and unable to return to slumberland, I found myself, as the Grinch says "leaking" - that dreadful escaping of liquids from the tear ducts and possibly every other opening on the face, including enlarged pores.
This lovely process ensued for about 5 hours, on and off....and though it is not necessary to explain why I was experiencing a Niagara of soul tears....I must share some of the insights that came during this day of being so low that not even a Christmas movie or chocolate held any attraction whatsoever. I know, right?
So here's what I found out.....
- apparently the constant crying, blowing, honking and sobbing have the capacity to move that virus causing the sore throat to ease on down the road. It was incredible. The sore throat was gone. Never mind that many other symptoms moved in to take its place.
- one of those symptoms was the puffy eyes. And I thought to myself - hey this is like free botox! Too bad we can't cry around the lips .... :/
- on this day, the scale was suddenly a little friendlier. I had actually lost 2 1/2 pounds! I guess that's what happens when your heart goes so far south that a trip to the kitchen to scavenge for even the most classic of comfort/stress foods seems like an aerobic workout. And my costumes were actually looser that night.....but do I really want to stay in that state just so the red dress looks good? Hmmm a conundrum for sure.
- people will stay out of your way. When you've got that look on your face that's a combination of Attila the Hun and a child whose balloon just popped, they just don't want to take the chance of unleashing whatever lurks beneath the surface. Heck, they don't even comment that you're quite late for your final dress rehearsal. Too bad that doesn't work in the workplace.
- Kaia will never leave me to suffer alone. Sometimes she watched me from across the room....sometimes she just sat beside me on the couch....and once I even got the special spa treatment of a canine nostril cleansing. Now that's love.
I took a sick day the other day because I got home quite late from rehearsal (that being the holiday classic Miracle on 34th Street) with a sore throat. I thought if I got lots of sleep I could kick it in the butt and go on with the show! Awakening after a whopping 4 hours of sleep, and unable to return to slumberland, I found myself, as the Grinch says "leaking" - that dreadful escaping of liquids from the tear ducts and possibly every other opening on the face, including enlarged pores.
This lovely process ensued for about 5 hours, on and off....and though it is not necessary to explain why I was experiencing a Niagara of soul tears....I must share some of the insights that came during this day of being so low that not even a Christmas movie or chocolate held any attraction whatsoever. I know, right?
So here's what I found out.....
- apparently the constant crying, blowing, honking and sobbing have the capacity to move that virus causing the sore throat to ease on down the road. It was incredible. The sore throat was gone. Never mind that many other symptoms moved in to take its place.
- one of those symptoms was the puffy eyes. And I thought to myself - hey this is like free botox! Too bad we can't cry around the lips .... :/
- on this day, the scale was suddenly a little friendlier. I had actually lost 2 1/2 pounds! I guess that's what happens when your heart goes so far south that a trip to the kitchen to scavenge for even the most classic of comfort/stress foods seems like an aerobic workout. And my costumes were actually looser that night.....but do I really want to stay in that state just so the red dress looks good? Hmmm a conundrum for sure.
- people will stay out of your way. When you've got that look on your face that's a combination of Attila the Hun and a child whose balloon just popped, they just don't want to take the chance of unleashing whatever lurks beneath the surface. Heck, they don't even comment that you're quite late for your final dress rehearsal. Too bad that doesn't work in the workplace.
- Kaia will never leave me to suffer alone. Sometimes she watched me from across the room....sometimes she just sat beside me on the couch....and once I even got the special spa treatment of a canine nostril cleansing. Now that's love.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Well, I tried.
A few weeks ago I mentioned on Facebook that I was going to do a blog post entitled "Well, I tried." How appropriate is that title since it is now significantly later than I anticipated and the post has not yet (until now anyway) appeared. So I guess that would be my first "well, I tried" item on the list. The recent days have simply not had enough hours in them. Though I am pretty sure if I had more hours to spend, somehow the stuff to do would also expand proportionately - if not exponentially.
I originally thought of doing this post on a day when I decided that if my current role in a play requires me to be at least a decade younger than what my birth certificate says, I should do all I can to appear that way. So I dug out my anti-wrinkle eye cream and slathered it on before heading off to work. Less than two miles down the road, I found myself wiping tears from my cheeks -and hardly able to see the road... not because of the beauty of the Christmas music playing in the car, nor from some deep heartache or even because I had to go to work. If only! Nope. It was then that I realized that eye cream was going on 4 years old! ooops. Well, I tried - to look younger and vibrant and wrinkle free. What I got was the look of a doll head carved out of an apple and left to dry and shrivel.
Next I volunteered to bring beverages to the gathering of the Bible study group. I grabbed a gallon of cider and several 2 litre bottles of assorted sodas. I was just so excited at the sale price, I guess. I found myself leaving the group with almost all full bottles of soda. I had thought that with all the running I've been doing lately, I could at LEAST manage drinks without incident. Well, I tried. I just forgot that we are about the only ones in the group who drink the evil stuff.
Then there was the evening I tried to go see a friend in her play. I had had this on my calendar for weeks. So the evening arrives and I think I even showered! I headed in to enjoy the show, only to find the building empty and one other person wandering around scratching his head as to why there wasn't more activity for a show that was to be starting in 10 minutes. A quick call home to have someone recheck the facebook page revealed that the show had been moved to 2:00 so as not to conflict with the only real important thing in town (said with tongue inserted very firmly into cheek): Penn State football. I ended up heading across town to catch a performance of Dracula - but that's another story.
My next attempt at Well, I tried was to help a friend and her family. They had lost their beloved Mom/Grammy and I decided I would take some food over. With my schedule having its usual overbooked status, I called Olive Garden and ordered a pan of lasagne and a salad. I tried not to bat an (still wrinkled) eye at the price tag of over $50 ..not to mention the fact that the pan of lasagne supposedly containing service for 6-8 would barely crank out 3 servings of the way MY family eats lasagne, but the real kicker came in the lasagne being overbaked. I really did try - this one wasn't my fault.
I don't believe the next episode was my fault either. I was called to the high school to help with grief counseling for the girls' basketball team who had lost their coach. I sincerely wanted to help. I've known the majority of those girls since they stepped their little sneaker and patent leather mary jane bedecked feet into their kindergarten classrooms many years ago. Some of them were my peer mediators. Some of them were my drama students. Some of them were in my office for help with friend problems, family problems or school problems over the years. But over the course of the two days when they were hurting and I longed to help them, I might as well have been Medusah. My words were met with glares - but if a high school teacher stepped into the room and said exactly the same thing, they hung onto their every word. It didn't help when one student told me they only came to school because they were told there would be Grief Counselors available! um, hello? Though cognitively I knew it wasn't personal it certainly didn't feel anything but. Well, I tried.
Next came the first night of rehearsal "off book". It's been awhile since I've sweated the off book phase from the stage. Usually I've been in the audience seats as director..dreading the time when all actors must put the script down! And fighting against my natural urges to let them pick them up for yet another day....or week. Because I am afraid I may just one day go ahead and gouge my eyes out with an ice pick after all! So I am onstage - with one of my former drama students mind you....and I'm stepping on people's lines....and dropping my lines...and missing entrances. And feeling progressively more horrible with every flub up. But the reason the entrances are being missed is because I'm having too darn much fun backstage with fellow actors! Now doesn't THAT make sense! I'm miserable because I'm having fun? Well, I tried.
Tonight we were heading out to the Straight No Chaser show. I decided to "feel pretty" and spritzed a bit of Beautiful cologne to make myself enticing, intoxicating, less stinky. As I sit here, 5 1/2 hours later, my eyes are still burning and watering and I have a headache. No, I'm not THAT sentimental! A bit of quick math revealed that the bottle is 6 years old. I wonder if I have learned my lesson about old cosmetics? I'll let you know next week when I put on my opening night make up....
Without going into detail about the countless other attempts at catching up on dishes, laundry, decluttering (more accurately, driving a backhoe through the piles), paperwork or any other chore du jour - I have come to the realization that we are, at any given point always at least giving things our best try. And sometimes we hit the jackpot and it works. But more often, I think that being able to honestly say, "Well, I tried" is equally as noble and successful.
I originally thought of doing this post on a day when I decided that if my current role in a play requires me to be at least a decade younger than what my birth certificate says, I should do all I can to appear that way. So I dug out my anti-wrinkle eye cream and slathered it on before heading off to work. Less than two miles down the road, I found myself wiping tears from my cheeks -and hardly able to see the road... not because of the beauty of the Christmas music playing in the car, nor from some deep heartache or even because I had to go to work. If only! Nope. It was then that I realized that eye cream was going on 4 years old! ooops. Well, I tried - to look younger and vibrant and wrinkle free. What I got was the look of a doll head carved out of an apple and left to dry and shrivel.
Next I volunteered to bring beverages to the gathering of the Bible study group. I grabbed a gallon of cider and several 2 litre bottles of assorted sodas. I was just so excited at the sale price, I guess. I found myself leaving the group with almost all full bottles of soda. I had thought that with all the running I've been doing lately, I could at LEAST manage drinks without incident. Well, I tried. I just forgot that we are about the only ones in the group who drink the evil stuff.
Then there was the evening I tried to go see a friend in her play. I had had this on my calendar for weeks. So the evening arrives and I think I even showered! I headed in to enjoy the show, only to find the building empty and one other person wandering around scratching his head as to why there wasn't more activity for a show that was to be starting in 10 minutes. A quick call home to have someone recheck the facebook page revealed that the show had been moved to 2:00 so as not to conflict with the only real important thing in town (said with tongue inserted very firmly into cheek): Penn State football. I ended up heading across town to catch a performance of Dracula - but that's another story.
My next attempt at Well, I tried was to help a friend and her family. They had lost their beloved Mom/Grammy and I decided I would take some food over. With my schedule having its usual overbooked status, I called Olive Garden and ordered a pan of lasagne and a salad. I tried not to bat an (still wrinkled) eye at the price tag of over $50 ..not to mention the fact that the pan of lasagne supposedly containing service for 6-8 would barely crank out 3 servings of the way MY family eats lasagne, but the real kicker came in the lasagne being overbaked. I really did try - this one wasn't my fault.
I don't believe the next episode was my fault either. I was called to the high school to help with grief counseling for the girls' basketball team who had lost their coach. I sincerely wanted to help. I've known the majority of those girls since they stepped their little sneaker and patent leather mary jane bedecked feet into their kindergarten classrooms many years ago. Some of them were my peer mediators. Some of them were my drama students. Some of them were in my office for help with friend problems, family problems or school problems over the years. But over the course of the two days when they were hurting and I longed to help them, I might as well have been Medusah. My words were met with glares - but if a high school teacher stepped into the room and said exactly the same thing, they hung onto their every word. It didn't help when one student told me they only came to school because they were told there would be Grief Counselors available! um, hello? Though cognitively I knew it wasn't personal it certainly didn't feel anything but. Well, I tried.
Next came the first night of rehearsal "off book". It's been awhile since I've sweated the off book phase from the stage. Usually I've been in the audience seats as director..dreading the time when all actors must put the script down! And fighting against my natural urges to let them pick them up for yet another day....or week. Because I am afraid I may just one day go ahead and gouge my eyes out with an ice pick after all! So I am onstage - with one of my former drama students mind you....and I'm stepping on people's lines....and dropping my lines...and missing entrances. And feeling progressively more horrible with every flub up. But the reason the entrances are being missed is because I'm having too darn much fun backstage with fellow actors! Now doesn't THAT make sense! I'm miserable because I'm having fun? Well, I tried.
Tonight we were heading out to the Straight No Chaser show. I decided to "feel pretty" and spritzed a bit of Beautiful cologne to make myself enticing, intoxicating, less stinky. As I sit here, 5 1/2 hours later, my eyes are still burning and watering and I have a headache. No, I'm not THAT sentimental! A bit of quick math revealed that the bottle is 6 years old. I wonder if I have learned my lesson about old cosmetics? I'll let you know next week when I put on my opening night make up....
Without going into detail about the countless other attempts at catching up on dishes, laundry, decluttering (more accurately, driving a backhoe through the piles), paperwork or any other chore du jour - I have come to the realization that we are, at any given point always at least giving things our best try. And sometimes we hit the jackpot and it works. But more often, I think that being able to honestly say, "Well, I tried" is equally as noble and successful.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Pop Quiz!
Ok - it's not really a TRUE quiz - but there is a connection between the following items....see if YOU can figure out what it is...
- Dr. Oz's arms and too tight scrubs
- Drivers who pull out in front of you then drive slowly - or any other driving incompetence.
- Food wrapper/lids etc. on kitchen counters
- Rude people
- People who pee on the toilet seat and don't wipe it up
- Grammatical errors
- Cigarette smoke
- People who talk in 3rd person
- Small talk
- Stupid commercials
- Household Clutter
- Being forgotten or ignored on birthdays and holidays
- Insomnia
- People who misuse handicapped parking spaces and bathroom facilities
- Walmart products and employees
- Nepotism
- Lousy restaurant service and/or food
- The end of summer
- Unfulfilled promises
- Coffee breath
- Traffic jams
Ok - go! If you can't guess the true connection, then use your imagination and make something up. I may give a prize for the most original! ;)
- Dr. Oz's arms and too tight scrubs
- Drivers who pull out in front of you then drive slowly - or any other driving incompetence.
- Food wrapper/lids etc. on kitchen counters
- Rude people
- People who pee on the toilet seat and don't wipe it up
- Grammatical errors
- Cigarette smoke
- People who talk in 3rd person
- Small talk
- Stupid commercials
- Household Clutter
- Being forgotten or ignored on birthdays and holidays
- Insomnia
- People who misuse handicapped parking spaces and bathroom facilities
- Walmart products and employees
- Nepotism
- Lousy restaurant service and/or food
- The end of summer
- Unfulfilled promises
- Coffee breath
- Traffic jams
Ok - go! If you can't guess the true connection, then use your imagination and make something up. I may give a prize for the most original! ;)
Monday, September 27, 2010
Of Soirees and Synergy
This weekend was the 4th soiree for the gaggle of women I call the Sisters of Soiree'. (SOS) I'm pretty sure no one else in the group uses that handle for us but that's ok.
Dictionary.com lists 3 definitions of the word soiree, all of them so similar that listing only one is necessary:
an evening party or social gathering, esp. one held for a particular purpose: a musical soiree
Well, I think we would all agree that they are definitely held in the evening...on into the late, late LATE evening sometimes..and at a private residence as the one definition lists....but I am guessing that the "particular purpose" might not be as unified.
Though we are all connected in some way to at least one other person in the gaggle, in at least one way.... some through theatre, some through work, some through kids' activities, it is not a group that is cemented by one exclusive connection. Except maybe what Diane....er...Toots calls the silliness factor. We definitely have FUN! Perhaps that is why I stepped out of my comfort zone and sort of elbowed my way into this gang. (I AM in the gang, right, Ladies?) I needed some fun....and friends.
I sort of imposed myself on this group of extraordinary ladies because I was.....well, feeling rather lonely. And frustrated in recent years at the absence of friends. This is not a normal activity for me - imposing myself on people and trying to make friends....couple of reasons....first, the shyness mentioned in my previous post. There's also a trust factor - through most of my high school and college life I was closest to guys because I found most females to be catty, sniping and petty. A guy would tell you straight up what the deal was. Like "yeah - I'm really not interested in you that way"....ok - not the best thing to hear from them but at least there was no pretending. So for me to invite myself into a group of women with whom I had very peripheral connections is quite out of character.
During my first marriage, that friendship with guys thing was pretty much taboo. So I tried to surround myself with women friends. I did ok...but I still didn't really enjoy women's events. I often said I would rather have a root canal than to sit at a baby shower listening to everyone's labor stories. And later on I got myself into a bit of a pickle in group counseling class in grad school when I said I had no interest in anything resembling a cackling hen's soup supper at church. Apparently one of the other people in the group liked being a cackling hen. Or eating soup. Or both. After my divorce (which actually came before grad school but don't try to keep it straight - I know I can't), all the women who had been my friends, and on whom I thought I could lean in times of trouble were suddenly stand-offish. Heck - some of them just downright disappeared! As though they had gotten their hands on Harry Potter's invisibility cloak! Some even went so far as to explain (and those who didn't definitely insinuated) that they thought their husbands would come after me now that I was unattached. I can't even begin to explain what all emotions THAT elicited!
My attempts at maintaining friendships with women were so one sided and exasperating that I think I finally gave up. And I would get lonelier. And try again. And be disappointed. The result of this ugly cycle became so blazingly apparent to me when I had wrecked my car and was taken to the ER. They were ready to discharge me and brought me a phone to call someone to come get me and I started to cry. The nurse panicked, thinking I was having pain. The truth was, I didn't have anyone to call to come and get me. Calling my ex-husband wasn't a choice in my book and the devastation I felt at the realization that there was nobody who gave enough of a damn about me that I could count on them in a moment of need, shattered my soul.
So when Peggy Jean (not her real name) asked me to help with an audition workshop,(though we were only connected via commenting on a mutual friend's Facebook status and had the same opinion of his addiction to Shamrock shakes) then suggested we grab some lunch after we both auditioned on the same day a week or so later, I decided to pursue unsticking this flower from the wall and see what might happen.
And we've been raucously soireeing since June....and we have taken on the practice of assigning themes to our evenings of delight and debauchery and diet-dissing. With recipes and costumes to match! From Mexican to Cowgirl to White Trash, it just keeps getting better! In fact, I think soireeing has changed other parts of my life - I almost don't hate going to work these days! Almost.
At the last soiree, there was a shirt painting activity (which I missed because of my show altho I'm not sure I would actually WEAR a shirt with my white trash name on it)...but I'm thinking that we are soon gonna need jackets.
Dictionary.com lists 3 definitions of the word soiree, all of them so similar that listing only one is necessary:
an evening party or social gathering, esp. one held for a particular purpose: a musical soiree
Well, I think we would all agree that they are definitely held in the evening...on into the late, late LATE evening sometimes..and at a private residence as the one definition lists....but I am guessing that the "particular purpose" might not be as unified.
Though we are all connected in some way to at least one other person in the gaggle, in at least one way.... some through theatre, some through work, some through kids' activities, it is not a group that is cemented by one exclusive connection. Except maybe what Diane....er...Toots calls the silliness factor. We definitely have FUN! Perhaps that is why I stepped out of my comfort zone and sort of elbowed my way into this gang. (I AM in the gang, right, Ladies?) I needed some fun....and friends.
I sort of imposed myself on this group of extraordinary ladies because I was.....well, feeling rather lonely. And frustrated in recent years at the absence of friends. This is not a normal activity for me - imposing myself on people and trying to make friends....couple of reasons....first, the shyness mentioned in my previous post. There's also a trust factor - through most of my high school and college life I was closest to guys because I found most females to be catty, sniping and petty. A guy would tell you straight up what the deal was. Like "yeah - I'm really not interested in you that way"....ok - not the best thing to hear from them but at least there was no pretending. So for me to invite myself into a group of women with whom I had very peripheral connections is quite out of character.
During my first marriage, that friendship with guys thing was pretty much taboo. So I tried to surround myself with women friends. I did ok...but I still didn't really enjoy women's events. I often said I would rather have a root canal than to sit at a baby shower listening to everyone's labor stories. And later on I got myself into a bit of a pickle in group counseling class in grad school when I said I had no interest in anything resembling a cackling hen's soup supper at church. Apparently one of the other people in the group liked being a cackling hen. Or eating soup. Or both. After my divorce (which actually came before grad school but don't try to keep it straight - I know I can't), all the women who had been my friends, and on whom I thought I could lean in times of trouble were suddenly stand-offish. Heck - some of them just downright disappeared! As though they had gotten their hands on Harry Potter's invisibility cloak! Some even went so far as to explain (and those who didn't definitely insinuated) that they thought their husbands would come after me now that I was unattached. I can't even begin to explain what all emotions THAT elicited!
My attempts at maintaining friendships with women were so one sided and exasperating that I think I finally gave up. And I would get lonelier. And try again. And be disappointed. The result of this ugly cycle became so blazingly apparent to me when I had wrecked my car and was taken to the ER. They were ready to discharge me and brought me a phone to call someone to come get me and I started to cry. The nurse panicked, thinking I was having pain. The truth was, I didn't have anyone to call to come and get me. Calling my ex-husband wasn't a choice in my book and the devastation I felt at the realization that there was nobody who gave enough of a damn about me that I could count on them in a moment of need, shattered my soul.
So when Peggy Jean (not her real name) asked me to help with an audition workshop,(though we were only connected via commenting on a mutual friend's Facebook status and had the same opinion of his addiction to Shamrock shakes) then suggested we grab some lunch after we both auditioned on the same day a week or so later, I decided to pursue unsticking this flower from the wall and see what might happen.
And we've been raucously soireeing since June....and we have taken on the practice of assigning themes to our evenings of delight and debauchery and diet-dissing. With recipes and costumes to match! From Mexican to Cowgirl to White Trash, it just keeps getting better! In fact, I think soireeing has changed other parts of my life - I almost don't hate going to work these days! Almost.
At the last soiree, there was a shirt painting activity (which I missed because of my show altho I'm not sure I would actually WEAR a shirt with my white trash name on it)...but I'm thinking that we are soon gonna need jackets.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Breaking a Leg ......Again
I got back onstage this weekend. It's been 3 years since I've been in a show and I've really missed it. The things that makes this particular show more monumental are
1. This one is a selfish guilty pleasure - I've never done a show before that wasn't during a summer season run, mainly because I had my own kids' high school shows requiring me to keep the calendar clear. But now that my only connection to the school district shows will be through my friends' kids, I have a bit more freedom to do my own thing. And it's been pretty cool to "find myself" again.
2. Getting back onstage for myself was one of the many factors that led to resigning my position as Drama Advisor/Director at school. I started to get a little jealous of the opportunities I attempted to provide for my students.
3. I am doing this show with a brand new group of people, in a completely different playhouse. I was apprehensive to the max to step into this new venue. First, because unbelieveably to many of my acquaintances, I tend to be rather shy. Second, it's not a secret that in many small town theater groups, it is difficult to be the new kid. Being in theater lends itself to close knit ties - lots of shared memories and sometimes fierce competition. I have a family member who, after having relocated to another state has found it very difficult to "break in" to a local group because newcomers simply aren't welcome. That's not what I have found this month, and I am so grateful to these folks for the absolute encouragement and genuine goodwill I have experienced. That's not to say there aren't theatrical personalities flaring from time to time....and I can honestly say, that because I am not the director this time, and because I am the new kid, I can maintain a detached position and.... I find it rather entertaining and amusing.
Some of these good people find it hard to believe that I have not played many leading roles....now what closet diva doesn't want to hear THAT?!? :)
And the opening night tradition is to crack open champagne and load up the snack counter with all sorts of delectables! And everyone sits around and enjoys each other's company. A truly genuine and rewarding experience - even though I can't drink the champagne.
In the midst of that socializing and sharing the other night, one of the long-standing group members came over to me and told me he hoped I would think about coming back to work with them in the future. I said, "Ok - how about for tomorrow night's show? " I've gotta say that that comment (his, not mine) has done more for me than all the raucous laughter and applause from the audience.
It feels so good to be "breaking a leg" again!
1. This one is a selfish guilty pleasure - I've never done a show before that wasn't during a summer season run, mainly because I had my own kids' high school shows requiring me to keep the calendar clear. But now that my only connection to the school district shows will be through my friends' kids, I have a bit more freedom to do my own thing. And it's been pretty cool to "find myself" again.
2. Getting back onstage for myself was one of the many factors that led to resigning my position as Drama Advisor/Director at school. I started to get a little jealous of the opportunities I attempted to provide for my students.
3. I am doing this show with a brand new group of people, in a completely different playhouse. I was apprehensive to the max to step into this new venue. First, because unbelieveably to many of my acquaintances, I tend to be rather shy. Second, it's not a secret that in many small town theater groups, it is difficult to be the new kid. Being in theater lends itself to close knit ties - lots of shared memories and sometimes fierce competition. I have a family member who, after having relocated to another state has found it very difficult to "break in" to a local group because newcomers simply aren't welcome. That's not what I have found this month, and I am so grateful to these folks for the absolute encouragement and genuine goodwill I have experienced. That's not to say there aren't theatrical personalities flaring from time to time....and I can honestly say, that because I am not the director this time, and because I am the new kid, I can maintain a detached position and.... I find it rather entertaining and amusing.
Some of these good people find it hard to believe that I have not played many leading roles....now what closet diva doesn't want to hear THAT?!? :)
And the opening night tradition is to crack open champagne and load up the snack counter with all sorts of delectables! And everyone sits around and enjoys each other's company. A truly genuine and rewarding experience - even though I can't drink the champagne.
In the midst of that socializing and sharing the other night, one of the long-standing group members came over to me and told me he hoped I would think about coming back to work with them in the future. I said, "Ok - how about for tomorrow night's show? " I've gotta say that that comment (his, not mine) has done more for me than all the raucous laughter and applause from the audience.
It feels so good to be "breaking a leg" again!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Well, after I posted the last installment about my struggle with being the age that I am chronologically, (and I do struggle - but like everything else that troubles me I try to infuse it with some humor....like when I needed 10 stitches in the top of my head and I asked them to just pull it up tight so I could avoid a facelift later)....I was driving home from rehearsal. And having had it up to here (cue common mom gesture) with the songs from the show for the time being, I turned on the radio. And there was a song playing by the Christian band, REVIVE that sort of grabbed me. In fact, it was an eloquent paraphrase of what I was trying to convey in my post. And here are the lyrics -
Teach me to number my days
And count every moment before it slips away
Taking all the colors before they fade to gray
I don’t want to miss even just a second more of this
It happens in a blink
It happens in a flash
It happens in the time it takes to look back
I try to hold on tight, but there’s no stopping time
What is it I’ve done with my life
It happens in a blink
When it’s all said and done
No one remembers how far we have run
The only thing that matters is how we have loved
I don’t want to miss even just a second more of this
Slow down, slow down
Before today becomes our yesterday
Slow down, slow down
Before you turn around and it’s too late
It happens in a blink
it happens in a flash
it happens in the time it takes to look back
I try to hold on tight but there’s no stopping time
What is it I’ve done with my life
It happens in a blink
And probably even more helpful than reading them, here is the link to listen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvuxFdM3S58
The song asks - what is it I've done with my life?
Hopefully I have
made people feel loved and appreciated....
given some students a measure of self-worth....
brought laughter to someone who needed it....
contributed something somewhere, to make the world a better place.....
encouraged a downtrodden heart....
shined a ray of light to a darkened corner.....
made a difference.
Teach me to number my days
And count every moment before it slips away
Taking all the colors before they fade to gray
I don’t want to miss even just a second more of this
It happens in a blink
It happens in a flash
It happens in the time it takes to look back
I try to hold on tight, but there’s no stopping time
What is it I’ve done with my life
It happens in a blink
When it’s all said and done
No one remembers how far we have run
The only thing that matters is how we have loved
I don’t want to miss even just a second more of this
Slow down, slow down
Before today becomes our yesterday
Slow down, slow down
Before you turn around and it’s too late
It happens in a blink
it happens in a flash
it happens in the time it takes to look back
I try to hold on tight but there’s no stopping time
What is it I’ve done with my life
It happens in a blink
And probably even more helpful than reading them, here is the link to listen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvuxFdM3S58
The song asks - what is it I've done with my life?
Hopefully I have
made people feel loved and appreciated....
given some students a measure of self-worth....
brought laughter to someone who needed it....
contributed something somewhere, to make the world a better place.....
encouraged a downtrodden heart....
shined a ray of light to a darkened corner.....
made a difference.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Life in the Middle Ages
Yesterday I sat contemplating the Circle of Life. No, not the song from The Lion King – I was never really much of a fan of that movie. Nor am I a fan of the actual circle of life. My contemplation time took place in the waiting room of the orthopedic surgeon who was going to inject my second round of synvisc into my knees. That’s right – an OLD PEOPLE treatment! And I wondered how in the world I got here!
I look at parents with chubby faced little cherubs and wonder exactly how and when I officially got booted out of that club?!? Because inside, I still think and feel mostly the way I did in that stage of my life. And to be honest, I am more ready to be a Mom again instead of a Grandmom. I would say “Don’t tell my son and his wife this” – but that would be unnecessary because
1. They already have a clue because when asked what I want their future children to call me, my answer is still “Your Majesty will suffice”
2. I’m pretty sure I could successfully bet money that they don’t read my blog! :)
I look at folks of my mother’s generation and wonder if that is how I am seen by those young parents (and my own kids) - as just a thin veneer of mayonnaise away from being one of the slices of bread on their future Sandwich Generation status. (Sidebar – I propose we move away from that metaphor and adopt more of a Salad Generation stance – more on that in a future post – if my memory holds out that long!)
I look at myself when I try to get out of bed in the morning and can’t help but think that this whole circle thing is just plain sucks! I am so not looking forward to needing assistance in any and all manner of activities of daily living (to put it delicately). So I am proposing recommendations to the universe – we need, as much as I hate to coin such a cliché phrase: a paradigm shift. And I’m ok with whichever is selected – but I want one to happen – and I want it NOW!
Option #1 – I propose that rather than having to endure the aging process in a circle –we make it more of a Straight Line With Benefits Plan. Let’s start life out as we do now, because honestly, who can resist cute baby giggles and first steps and all that? And let’s get adolescence out of the way as planned because living in anticipation of that horrid experience will only make the angst more severe. But let’s change it up just after we given birth to our kiddos- from that point on I say we freeze the physical condition and ramp up the energy level and zest for living in progressive measures each year. So that grandmas will be able to pursue with vigor those activities they put on hold while they were raising their kids. We will assume of course that appropriate wisdom will come with age but hard learned lessons will not carve our faces into that dried apple doll look. K? And for goodness sake, let’s make the wardrobe attractive, please. I’m sure Alfred Dunner and the people who make Depends can find some other avenue of generating revenue.
Option #2 - I propose that we change the cultural perspective of aging. All we need to do is get the media on board because let’s face it – they’re the ones impressing on everyone from girls aged 5 – 95 that there is a particular set of “acceptable” conditions of body size, skin tone, hair style - you name it. “I have a dream” that one day young girls will be saying “I can hardly wait til my boobs sag and my hair is lifeless! Botox? Are you KIDDING? I am buying Neutrogena’s Wrinkle Me Now cream – it gives the impression of laugh lines and crow’s feet even if you don’t have them! It’s awesome!” Or, “please, Dr. Optomotrist can you put me in fake bifocals? Contacts? NO WAY – I want to look like my grandma – she’s a hottie!” Wouldn’t it be great to hear them shuffling into breakfast whining “When am I ever going to have everything hurting when I get out of bed! And why does my hair have to be so shiny and bouncy?… being young stinks – I want to be old NOW!” Wouldn’t it be great to be able to still have the upper hand in acquiring knowledge – like catching onto the latest technology and having to teach it to our kids? Oh – and how about being the originators of the latest slang? Oh yeah – I can dig it. We’ll call this the Advanced Age is Awesome approach.
I think I might be onto something here. Does anyone have the number for The New York Times, CNN and The Enquirer? Or maybe we could just start it as a viral movement on the internet…….
I look at parents with chubby faced little cherubs and wonder exactly how and when I officially got booted out of that club?!? Because inside, I still think and feel mostly the way I did in that stage of my life. And to be honest, I am more ready to be a Mom again instead of a Grandmom. I would say “Don’t tell my son and his wife this” – but that would be unnecessary because
1. They already have a clue because when asked what I want their future children to call me, my answer is still “Your Majesty will suffice”
2. I’m pretty sure I could successfully bet money that they don’t read my blog! :)
I look at folks of my mother’s generation and wonder if that is how I am seen by those young parents (and my own kids) - as just a thin veneer of mayonnaise away from being one of the slices of bread on their future Sandwich Generation status. (Sidebar – I propose we move away from that metaphor and adopt more of a Salad Generation stance – more on that in a future post – if my memory holds out that long!)
I look at myself when I try to get out of bed in the morning and can’t help but think that this whole circle thing is just plain sucks! I am so not looking forward to needing assistance in any and all manner of activities of daily living (to put it delicately). So I am proposing recommendations to the universe – we need, as much as I hate to coin such a cliché phrase: a paradigm shift. And I’m ok with whichever is selected – but I want one to happen – and I want it NOW!
Option #1 – I propose that rather than having to endure the aging process in a circle –we make it more of a Straight Line With Benefits Plan. Let’s start life out as we do now, because honestly, who can resist cute baby giggles and first steps and all that? And let’s get adolescence out of the way as planned because living in anticipation of that horrid experience will only make the angst more severe. But let’s change it up just after we given birth to our kiddos- from that point on I say we freeze the physical condition and ramp up the energy level and zest for living in progressive measures each year. So that grandmas will be able to pursue with vigor those activities they put on hold while they were raising their kids. We will assume of course that appropriate wisdom will come with age but hard learned lessons will not carve our faces into that dried apple doll look. K? And for goodness sake, let’s make the wardrobe attractive, please. I’m sure Alfred Dunner and the people who make Depends can find some other avenue of generating revenue.
Option #2 - I propose that we change the cultural perspective of aging. All we need to do is get the media on board because let’s face it – they’re the ones impressing on everyone from girls aged 5 – 95 that there is a particular set of “acceptable” conditions of body size, skin tone, hair style - you name it. “I have a dream” that one day young girls will be saying “I can hardly wait til my boobs sag and my hair is lifeless! Botox? Are you KIDDING? I am buying Neutrogena’s Wrinkle Me Now cream – it gives the impression of laugh lines and crow’s feet even if you don’t have them! It’s awesome!” Or, “please, Dr. Optomotrist can you put me in fake bifocals? Contacts? NO WAY – I want to look like my grandma – she’s a hottie!” Wouldn’t it be great to hear them shuffling into breakfast whining “When am I ever going to have everything hurting when I get out of bed! And why does my hair have to be so shiny and bouncy?… being young stinks – I want to be old NOW!” Wouldn’t it be great to be able to still have the upper hand in acquiring knowledge – like catching onto the latest technology and having to teach it to our kids? Oh – and how about being the originators of the latest slang? Oh yeah – I can dig it. We’ll call this the Advanced Age is Awesome approach.
I think I might be onto something here. Does anyone have the number for The New York Times, CNN and The Enquirer? Or maybe we could just start it as a viral movement on the internet…….
Monday, August 30, 2010
Plus 1
Today is my birthday. I am calling it my "Plus 1" birthday. Because it feels a little better than saying ____ty-one. Last year was a biggie....though it pretty much flew under the radar in terms of celebrating....so I got the idea that this year I was going to throw myself a big Plus One party. But I didn't for a variety of reasons.
So I was thinking today about the whole concept of "Plus One" as in, one more. And I thought I would put it out there to anyone who cares to check in....what is your "plus 1"? What is it that you would like to have one more of......maybe it's something possible, maybe it's not....but I think we all probably have a "one more" If you don't want to post here, feel free to email your reply...
For me, my Plus one is a toss up between one more day with my Dad.....or one more child....
What's yours?
So I was thinking today about the whole concept of "Plus One" as in, one more. And I thought I would put it out there to anyone who cares to check in....what is your "plus 1"? What is it that you would like to have one more of......maybe it's something possible, maybe it's not....but I think we all probably have a "one more" If you don't want to post here, feel free to email your reply...
For me, my Plus one is a toss up between one more day with my Dad.....or one more child....
What's yours?
Sunday, August 29, 2010
God as White Noise
I tried going to church again this morning - this time to one we have already visited a few times. Because every time I try somewhere else, I get this feeling in my gut that I should be at the one I attended today. But it didn't deliver. It was like expecting Cheesecake Factory cheesecake and getting generic sugarless pudding. I've been pondering lately how I got to this place of spiritual.....not sure what to call it - apathy? dryness? disconnect?
The thought occurred to me the other day that God has become White Noise in my life....you know - the noise that just sort of plays in the background while you go about all your other activities - not really listening, nor being impacted by its music or message....It's actually been close to 6 years since I felt truly passionate about my faith and wanted to live it out visibly and radically. Let's just say that what hasn't merely disappointed me about some churches where I've invested much of my time and energy, has actually hurt me. And to add insult to injury, I would get hit with accusations of being overly negative or just having a bad attitude when I tried to express my concerns or discouragement by the people who were supposed to be there to uplift me. I'm one of those people whose spiritual walk is fueled by giving of myself in ministry. Needless to say, I'm not ambulating much these days....not sure if I'm even crawling anymore.
Michael Card has a song whose lyrics are "He calls His sons and daughters to the wilderness" I'm pretty sure God didn't lead me here..I've been in wildernesses before that I sensed were His doing.....I fully realize that I have somehow wandered here all on my own. I do have a tendency to get lost on any trip I take....even with a GPS!
I made the comment recently that I don't know how I had become such a glass half-empty person. But it has pointed out to me by many people, in many situations. I don't want to be that way. I don't think I've always been that way.....but now I'm starting to doubt it. And I can't help but think it's all related to this finding a church/losing track of God thing.
Ironically though I find I'm like a mother bear whose cubs are threatened when anyone decides to dismiss or worse, trash the tenets of my faith. I am nothing less than incensed when someone blasts the "F" word all over the persons of God or Jesus....or flippantly shrugs off or mocks the beliefs I have somewhere deep inside. Then after just getting angry, I retreat into my world of white noise again. Occasionally, I find myself crawling out of my pit to offer encouragement to someone searching for God -and I mean every word I offer and I pray fervently for that person in that moment and I've been told I've made a huge difference in their relationship with Him...only to be found soon after moving aimlessly in my own world of holy White Noise.
The thought occurred to me the other day that God has become White Noise in my life....you know - the noise that just sort of plays in the background while you go about all your other activities - not really listening, nor being impacted by its music or message....It's actually been close to 6 years since I felt truly passionate about my faith and wanted to live it out visibly and radically. Let's just say that what hasn't merely disappointed me about some churches where I've invested much of my time and energy, has actually hurt me. And to add insult to injury, I would get hit with accusations of being overly negative or just having a bad attitude when I tried to express my concerns or discouragement by the people who were supposed to be there to uplift me. I'm one of those people whose spiritual walk is fueled by giving of myself in ministry. Needless to say, I'm not ambulating much these days....not sure if I'm even crawling anymore.
Michael Card has a song whose lyrics are "He calls His sons and daughters to the wilderness" I'm pretty sure God didn't lead me here..I've been in wildernesses before that I sensed were His doing.....I fully realize that I have somehow wandered here all on my own. I do have a tendency to get lost on any trip I take....even with a GPS!
I made the comment recently that I don't know how I had become such a glass half-empty person. But it has pointed out to me by many people, in many situations. I don't want to be that way. I don't think I've always been that way.....but now I'm starting to doubt it. And I can't help but think it's all related to this finding a church/losing track of God thing.
Ironically though I find I'm like a mother bear whose cubs are threatened when anyone decides to dismiss or worse, trash the tenets of my faith. I am nothing less than incensed when someone blasts the "F" word all over the persons of God or Jesus....or flippantly shrugs off or mocks the beliefs I have somewhere deep inside. Then after just getting angry, I retreat into my world of white noise again. Occasionally, I find myself crawling out of my pit to offer encouragement to someone searching for God -and I mean every word I offer and I pray fervently for that person in that moment and I've been told I've made a huge difference in their relationship with Him...only to be found soon after moving aimlessly in my own world of holy White Noise.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
What I Learned at Life Camp This Summer
I wonder how many students will be writing an essay within the next few weeks about how they spent their summer vacations. Or what they learned. Most of them probably don't want to admit they learned anything over the summer. I started and finished my summer Facebook statuses with those immortal words of Cheech and Chong: the first/last day of my summer vacation, I woke up.....and so on about looking for a job and the corner drugstore, but the truth is, this has been a good summer. I don't always head back to school feeling that way. Two summers ago I spent the majority of my time in hospital rooms with my mom. Last year, though I don't have clear memories of it, summer seemed to fly by and I started the school year not feeling rejuvenated on any level. So I thought I would share a few things I've learned while doing the things I did or did not get to do - (see Meaningful Moments post) this summer:
I learned that I actually did do a decent job of parenting - 14 years of it as a solo flight....and learned more clearly and painfully just how fast those years go by.
I learned that Point Park University is REALLY FREAKING expensive - at least by my 35 years ago IUP standards....
I learned that some people are just emotional bulldozers and the only way you can avoid being hurt by them is to just jump out of the way. Because stopping them or changing them is about as easy to do as stopping a real one.
I learned that a dog can have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - my own diagnosis - when playing fetch - because she will relentlessly bring you the tennis ball, even when you are....let's say indisposed. However, if there is any chance her precious paws will get wet in the grass, all play MUST be indoors.
I learned a whole bunch about Lake Erie which I have forgotten in the time since I've returned.
I learned a bit about sandcastle construction.
I learned a little about Bali....and yoga....and Italy....
I learned how to blog. Well, maybe a little. Still overwhelmed by the whole deal.
I learned that I'm a pretty big wuss when it comes to getting into the ocean on a New England beach. Not a big fan of being frozen alive....but loved the beach and grateful for the chance to be there.
I learned something of Leningrad in the pre and post WWII years.
I learned that there are some churches in the area that are really on the border of my comfort zone. But glad I tried.
I learned a few things about setting up a private counseling practice (now known as Breakwater Counseling Services as part of Counseling Consultation & Psychotherapy Services - if I may plug so myself :) )
I learned a little bit more about getting lost....and finding my way in downtown Pittsburgh. The getting lost part is thanks to Mrs. Garmin (I call her Greta)....the getting found part was thanks to my own ingenuity. and prayer.
I learned how to spell soiree'. And how to get myself invited to one (badger your Facebook friends when they're planning something)
I learned that I should be thankful for our little central Pennsylvania parking garage and meter fees.....because parking in the city for 1/2 a day can cost what I spend on groceries for 1/2 a week!
I learned (again) who fought whom in the French & Indian War in the Battle of Fort Duquesne....and what Fort Pitt's role was in the Revolutionary War....and I also know that the next time I go there it will be as though it is all new to me all over again....because I already know I have a bad memory.
I learned that Andy Warhol grew up in Pittsburgh.....and that he did some really cool stuff ....and some really disturbing stuff.
I learned that The Cheesecake Factory is like a little visit to heaven.
I learned that when you eat the last of your Cheesecake Factory cheesecake at 11 p.m. on the day you visited the Andy Warhol museum you will have the most freakishly bizarre dreams of your entire life.
And I'm hoping that the new school year is nothing like those dreams.
I learned that I actually did do a decent job of parenting - 14 years of it as a solo flight....and learned more clearly and painfully just how fast those years go by.
I learned that Point Park University is REALLY FREAKING expensive - at least by my 35 years ago IUP standards....
I learned that some people are just emotional bulldozers and the only way you can avoid being hurt by them is to just jump out of the way. Because stopping them or changing them is about as easy to do as stopping a real one.
I learned that a dog can have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - my own diagnosis - when playing fetch - because she will relentlessly bring you the tennis ball, even when you are....let's say indisposed. However, if there is any chance her precious paws will get wet in the grass, all play MUST be indoors.
I learned a whole bunch about Lake Erie which I have forgotten in the time since I've returned.
I learned a bit about sandcastle construction.
I learned a little about Bali....and yoga....and Italy....
I learned how to blog. Well, maybe a little. Still overwhelmed by the whole deal.
I learned that I'm a pretty big wuss when it comes to getting into the ocean on a New England beach. Not a big fan of being frozen alive....but loved the beach and grateful for the chance to be there.
I learned something of Leningrad in the pre and post WWII years.
I learned that there are some churches in the area that are really on the border of my comfort zone. But glad I tried.
I learned a few things about setting up a private counseling practice (now known as Breakwater Counseling Services as part of Counseling Consultation & Psychotherapy Services - if I may plug so myself :) )
I learned a little bit more about getting lost....and finding my way in downtown Pittsburgh. The getting lost part is thanks to Mrs. Garmin (I call her Greta)....the getting found part was thanks to my own ingenuity. and prayer.
I learned how to spell soiree'. And how to get myself invited to one (badger your Facebook friends when they're planning something)
I learned that I should be thankful for our little central Pennsylvania parking garage and meter fees.....because parking in the city for 1/2 a day can cost what I spend on groceries for 1/2 a week!
I learned (again) who fought whom in the French & Indian War in the Battle of Fort Duquesne....and what Fort Pitt's role was in the Revolutionary War....and I also know that the next time I go there it will be as though it is all new to me all over again....because I already know I have a bad memory.
I learned that Andy Warhol grew up in Pittsburgh.....and that he did some really cool stuff ....and some really disturbing stuff.
I learned that The Cheesecake Factory is like a little visit to heaven.
I learned that when you eat the last of your Cheesecake Factory cheesecake at 11 p.m. on the day you visited the Andy Warhol museum you will have the most freakishly bizarre dreams of your entire life.
And I'm hoping that the new school year is nothing like those dreams.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Chapter of Changes
In 8 days I will be taking my youngest child to college. This past weekend, we visited my other son and his wife in the home they just purchased, less than two years after getting married, and less than a year after they both graduated college. I'm not sure how this happened. It was only say, 3 weeks ago that I was chasing tow-headed toddlers and watching rocks splash in puddles. And surely it was only 2 weeks ago I was confiscating the remote or begging, bribing and weeping over ignored homework. And while I always thought that as my kids grew up I was heeding the wizened advice of those who had finished raising kids who said "Enjoy these days/years - they will go by quickly" I am suddenly feeling a bit panicky that I may not, in fact have slowed down enough, done enough, listened enough,said enough, laughed enough, hugged enough. And I am at times tempted to sink hopelessly into a sea of doubts, inadequacies and "should haves". But I came across an essay this summer that gave me a new perspective that I will be clinging desperately to in the coming weeks and years.Even through the tears which have already started to cascade when they find any moment, whether opportune or not. I share it in its original form (or at least the link to it) because it is amusing and beautiful and poignant. Definitely worth taking a few moments to read. (If you click the link,it takes you to the google search - click on the first item, "Why My Third Husband Will Be Dog). Enjoy. And no offer to stop by the empty nest will be denied.
lisa scottoline road map - Google Search
lisa scottoline road map - Google Search
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Missed Opportunities or Meaningful Moments?
I had big plans for this summer. I had a to do list a thousand miles long that was going to allow me to return to school feeling balanced, satisfied and ..well, normal. I deeply envy people who don't have to call in a bull dozer to find a space to eat dinner each night. Or the ones who can actually take their clothes out of the closet or drawer to get ready for work in the morning instead of unearthing an unattended to laundry basket or even trying to quick dry a top with a hair dryer then succumbing to wearing wet clothes to work in the hope that during the drive to work, the car heater will have done the job. Then there are those who DO have to use coasters on end tables because they somehow, abnormally in my opinion, DON'T have 1/2 inch of dust on the surface that serves the same purpose. And whose dogs didn't chew up every coaster in the house.....or plastic water bottle....or slipper....or sock. And speaking of dogs, these "normal" folks, whoever they are, can crawl into bed at night under a bedspread that doesn't look like it's the hide of a furry animal. But I digress....plans for the summer....
In addition to getting some "house" stuff done, I was going to try to be a counselor at camp, lead a week long gleaning/hunger awareness event, catch up on all manner of professional and pleasure reading, log a great many professional development hours,and most of all. I was hoping beyond hope of landing a really great role in a really great show! One of my dream roles, actually. I might as well have tried to tackle riding a unicycle and bringing world peace. Interestingly, whether or not I would be able to do most of those things hinged on the question of the stage. Now before I go any further, rest assured that I am very much aware that there are REAL problems in the world.....so if there is anyone out there besides the few friends who can put up with reading me, please don't post hate comments. I KNOW there is true suffering. (After all, I am a Pittsburgh Pirates fan! - just kidding!)
So, onto the first "missed opportunity"- having to give up a different role in a play - albeit a small one - because my son was going to be getting a senior award. I was looking forward to working with the director and the cast members, but when I weighed the choice between the play or my son,this was not a tough decision at all And sitting in the audience at the senior awards was one of my proudest parent moments. This is a kid who has not spent his life thus far being the "chosen" one - neither from peers nor educators. He is a bright, capable, funny, handsome, sensitive and talented young man who finally got his due on that night. Had I been across town in costume and makeup and missed that moment, I would have kicked myself for the rest of my life. It was awesome. The other experience that I would not trade for the world that came from relinquishing that role, was getting to take my 83 year old mom to the Memorial Day parade in the town where I grew up. She was like a little kid - getting all dressed up in her red, white and blue and waving the flag as she sat next to the road in her wheelchair, waving at people she knew..and of course, collecting candy. Just before the parade, we met some old neighbors for breakfast - folks we haven't seen in over 10 years.
Not sure why I stepped away from the hunger event. I have wanted to lead or at least attend a week-long Harvest of Hope event since the first time I attended a weekend experience 13 years ago. But for whatever reason it just didn't feel right. And there was no big event that took its place.....but maybe the series of summer night symphonies, playing with the dog and playing on Facebook provided better therapy than the stresses of leading a largely attended event.
Not landing one of my dream roles AND losing a respectable role elsewhere due to a few glitches of poor communication ended up giving me greater gifts....one being the chance to get to the beach in New Hampshire.....the beach is something I have been whining about for about 4 years now. And to take that trip with the son who will be leaving for college in a few weeks - my baby - was a pretty cool thing. Especially because he drove most of the way! :) And an even greater gift was attending his college orientation where I witnessed the beginning of his transformation.....from being unsure about his future, and his choices, and still bearing the weight of his past, to someone on his way with his head held high, the promise of new friends and the quest for independence. In fact, there was even some joy in hearing him moan and groan the whole way home about how cruel it was that they would bring incoming freshmen in for a few days then send them HOME - when all they wanted to do was stay and be at college! Oh the injustice! Yes, someone else could have accompanied him on that trip and gathered the parental information if I had been cast in the part. But for me, it was so validating that in all the years of the single parent struggle, I had apparently done something right somewhere....and though I would LOVE to have been on stage, there is no question in my mind that I was where I was supposed to be - not just for him but also for the gift that I received there.
I have a few other memories I treasure this summer...saying no to camp counseling allowed me to help someone I know with his online coursework....proofreading/editing his papers - "we" got an A on both of them!...getting to see some friends who were visiting from Estonia, if even for a few precious hours ......spending a few days at Lake Erie (despite the meetings mentioned in previous post) one evening on a sightseeing cruise and the other watching a glorious sunset and while in Erie, had a chance to hang out with my nephew and his partner and eating gelato! I'm not sure which I enjoy more - the ways they make me laugh (the guys, not the gelato), or the fact that they laugh at my melodramatic family story telling. And, I've broadened my sand castle skills this summer....thanks to Jodi, whose husband's sandcastle I almost walked on while at Whipple Dam earlier in the summer. I can now almost build something other than my famous "drippy" sandcastle....and my attempts have given my family and friends something to laugh about.....even my mother commented how one of my towers looked like a phallus. Only she didn't use that word :) The woman who couldn't tell me herself about the birds and bees can now comment on my sandcastles without shame! A cookout with some coworkers also belongs on the list - fresh picked corn, a gorgeous sunset and lots of laughter - hard to beat. A few date nights squeezed in...that was nice too.. Running around a Pittsburgh casino til midnight with Melissa! Still to come this month:a cowgirl campfire "soiree'" in my backyard, spending a weekend with my son and daughter in law in their newly purchased house and a mini vacation getaway with my hubby.
I would love to be able to say that at no time this summer have I licked my wounds....or been told to "get over myself". Yes, the candle on my pity party cake every so often flickers back to life like those exasperating trick birthday candles that refuse to be blown out. But I keep coming back to: the things I so desperately wanted for the summer....that I seemingly "missed out" on have unexpectedly opened other doors. And the more I think about them, the more grateful I am. I guess that's what our parents and grandparents meant by that whole cloud and silver lining thing.
In addition to getting some "house" stuff done, I was going to try to be a counselor at camp, lead a week long gleaning/hunger awareness event, catch up on all manner of professional and pleasure reading, log a great many professional development hours,and most of all. I was hoping beyond hope of landing a really great role in a really great show! One of my dream roles, actually. I might as well have tried to tackle riding a unicycle and bringing world peace. Interestingly, whether or not I would be able to do most of those things hinged on the question of the stage. Now before I go any further, rest assured that I am very much aware that there are REAL problems in the world.....so if there is anyone out there besides the few friends who can put up with reading me, please don't post hate comments. I KNOW there is true suffering. (After all, I am a Pittsburgh Pirates fan! - just kidding!)
So, onto the first "missed opportunity"- having to give up a different role in a play - albeit a small one - because my son was going to be getting a senior award. I was looking forward to working with the director and the cast members, but when I weighed the choice between the play or my son,this was not a tough decision at all And sitting in the audience at the senior awards was one of my proudest parent moments. This is a kid who has not spent his life thus far being the "chosen" one - neither from peers nor educators. He is a bright, capable, funny, handsome, sensitive and talented young man who finally got his due on that night. Had I been across town in costume and makeup and missed that moment, I would have kicked myself for the rest of my life. It was awesome. The other experience that I would not trade for the world that came from relinquishing that role, was getting to take my 83 year old mom to the Memorial Day parade in the town where I grew up. She was like a little kid - getting all dressed up in her red, white and blue and waving the flag as she sat next to the road in her wheelchair, waving at people she knew..and of course, collecting candy. Just before the parade, we met some old neighbors for breakfast - folks we haven't seen in over 10 years.
Not sure why I stepped away from the hunger event. I have wanted to lead or at least attend a week-long Harvest of Hope event since the first time I attended a weekend experience 13 years ago. But for whatever reason it just didn't feel right. And there was no big event that took its place.....but maybe the series of summer night symphonies, playing with the dog and playing on Facebook provided better therapy than the stresses of leading a largely attended event.
Not landing one of my dream roles AND losing a respectable role elsewhere due to a few glitches of poor communication ended up giving me greater gifts....one being the chance to get to the beach in New Hampshire.....the beach is something I have been whining about for about 4 years now. And to take that trip with the son who will be leaving for college in a few weeks - my baby - was a pretty cool thing. Especially because he drove most of the way! :) And an even greater gift was attending his college orientation where I witnessed the beginning of his transformation.....from being unsure about his future, and his choices, and still bearing the weight of his past, to someone on his way with his head held high, the promise of new friends and the quest for independence. In fact, there was even some joy in hearing him moan and groan the whole way home about how cruel it was that they would bring incoming freshmen in for a few days then send them HOME - when all they wanted to do was stay and be at college! Oh the injustice! Yes, someone else could have accompanied him on that trip and gathered the parental information if I had been cast in the part. But for me, it was so validating that in all the years of the single parent struggle, I had apparently done something right somewhere....and though I would LOVE to have been on stage, there is no question in my mind that I was where I was supposed to be - not just for him but also for the gift that I received there.
I have a few other memories I treasure this summer...saying no to camp counseling allowed me to help someone I know with his online coursework....proofreading/editing his papers - "we" got an A on both of them!...getting to see some friends who were visiting from Estonia, if even for a few precious hours ......spending a few days at Lake Erie (despite the meetings mentioned in previous post) one evening on a sightseeing cruise and the other watching a glorious sunset and while in Erie, had a chance to hang out with my nephew and his partner and eating gelato! I'm not sure which I enjoy more - the ways they make me laugh (the guys, not the gelato), or the fact that they laugh at my melodramatic family story telling. And, I've broadened my sand castle skills this summer....thanks to Jodi, whose husband's sandcastle I almost walked on while at Whipple Dam earlier in the summer. I can now almost build something other than my famous "drippy" sandcastle....and my attempts have given my family and friends something to laugh about.....even my mother commented how one of my towers looked like a phallus. Only she didn't use that word :) The woman who couldn't tell me herself about the birds and bees can now comment on my sandcastles without shame! A cookout with some coworkers also belongs on the list - fresh picked corn, a gorgeous sunset and lots of laughter - hard to beat. A few date nights squeezed in...that was nice too.. Running around a Pittsburgh casino til midnight with Melissa! Still to come this month:a cowgirl campfire "soiree'" in my backyard, spending a weekend with my son and daughter in law in their newly purchased house and a mini vacation getaway with my hubby.
I would love to be able to say that at no time this summer have I licked my wounds....or been told to "get over myself". Yes, the candle on my pity party cake every so often flickers back to life like those exasperating trick birthday candles that refuse to be blown out. But I keep coming back to: the things I so desperately wanted for the summer....that I seemingly "missed out" on have unexpectedly opened other doors. And the more I think about them, the more grateful I am. I guess that's what our parents and grandparents meant by that whole cloud and silver lining thing.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Ready, Set, Go!
Today is the day. It's time. I've been thinking about and even talking about, starting a blog this summer. Well, sad to say, summer is winding down, at least in terms of the dreaded days of heading back to school. So this is that day. I actually wrote this first post while sitting in a series of professional meetings. There is nothing else that makes me want to gouge my eyes out with an icepick quite like 3 consecutive days of Robert's Rules of Order and other such gatherings where I have to behave.
For many years I have felt like I had an extraordinarily creative person trapped inside of me. Ok, maybe not "extraordinarily creative" but definitely much more creatively expressive than what was happening on the outside. I sensed it when I heard a symphony (particularly the cello or French horn sections)...I felt it when I watched figure skating, or took in a beautiful painting or sculpture....or attended the ballet or live theatre....it chokes up when I read a good book or witness an indescribable moment in nature....or stare at a city skyline....you get the idea. So this person inside me pounds to get out while the self-perceived mediocrity persists on the outside. This blog is my attempt to release my creative prisoner. I'd love to say that I'm about to bust down some walls and go full tilt at all of it....but the reality is that I probably won't be pirouetting to the strains of The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy any time soon...unless someone out there can direct me to a geriatric ballet company! Some dreams will remain just that... For now, anyway, here I am, blogging to the universe of cyberspace. I have always wanted to be a writer, too - and I've written many volumes about various and sundry topics...all in my head. Excepting of course, passionate letters to banks and businesses who have apparently wronged me (my family calls these DWB letters - a subject for another time), and the compulsory high school, college and grad school assignments....and then there was a lovely little short story I wrote decades ago that my charming younger sister dug out and read aloud to the boyfriend I had brought home from college. In a shrill voice. With a cockney accent. I think I burned it shortly thereafter. And this is probably my first creative writing adventure since then.
If you've read this far, thanks for joining in on the journey. Hopefully it will be an interesting ride. Oh and by the way, the fact that this blog is the beginning of releasing the muse within and I haven't come up with a catchy title for it is an irony that is not lost on me. Take care.
For many years I have felt like I had an extraordinarily creative person trapped inside of me. Ok, maybe not "extraordinarily creative" but definitely much more creatively expressive than what was happening on the outside. I sensed it when I heard a symphony (particularly the cello or French horn sections)...I felt it when I watched figure skating, or took in a beautiful painting or sculpture....or attended the ballet or live theatre....it chokes up when I read a good book or witness an indescribable moment in nature....or stare at a city skyline....you get the idea. So this person inside me pounds to get out while the self-perceived mediocrity persists on the outside. This blog is my attempt to release my creative prisoner. I'd love to say that I'm about to bust down some walls and go full tilt at all of it....but the reality is that I probably won't be pirouetting to the strains of The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy any time soon...unless someone out there can direct me to a geriatric ballet company! Some dreams will remain just that... For now, anyway, here I am, blogging to the universe of cyberspace. I have always wanted to be a writer, too - and I've written many volumes about various and sundry topics...all in my head. Excepting of course, passionate letters to banks and businesses who have apparently wronged me (my family calls these DWB letters - a subject for another time), and the compulsory high school, college and grad school assignments....and then there was a lovely little short story I wrote decades ago that my charming younger sister dug out and read aloud to the boyfriend I had brought home from college. In a shrill voice. With a cockney accent. I think I burned it shortly thereafter. And this is probably my first creative writing adventure since then.
If you've read this far, thanks for joining in on the journey. Hopefully it will be an interesting ride. Oh and by the way, the fact that this blog is the beginning of releasing the muse within and I haven't come up with a catchy title for it is an irony that is not lost on me. Take care.
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