N is for Negative

I am trying to fight my way out of a very negative mood which was induced by a very nasty navigational issue (traffic nightmare) on my way home last night. Long story short, despite giving myself two hours of travel time, I ended up missing an appointment that should have taken only 46 minutes to get to. Yep, I had the pleasure of experiencing a three hour back log in traffic for no apparent reason! So, because I have nothing nice to say today, I won't say anything at all... Except, here's a nice, big fat negative (picture) for you! 

M is for Meet Me on Monday

I've been struggling with an "M" post for the past three days! After having written two separate posts (and deleting two separate posts) I remembered something from my old blog, the "Meet Me On Monday" activity! Quadruple win - Meet, Me, Monday, and the subject is all about Mother's Day! Woo-whooo!!!

1.  For Mother's Day I will probably...Take my mom out to dinner and a movie - or something of the sort.

2.  What is your favorite dish that your Mom makes?A bologna sandwich with Miracle Whip, with the crusts cut off, cut on the diagonal. (Ahh, childhood!)

3.  Who are you a "Mom" too? Tird the Cat and he's a hand full! Of course, there are days I feel like a mother to many of my co-workers as well...but don't tell them that!

4.  What did you have for Mother's Day dinner?To be determined, but I'm betting my mother will have some type of lobster dish...

5.  What is your fondest memory of your Mom?I think going to a Cubs game, and exploring the city with her...

L is for Language

Growing up I was surrounded by baseball. My mom played softball, and my grandfather spoke of the good ol' days of Stan Musial, the Babe and days of yore when he himself was young, and once rounded the bases. Many a summer day at my grandparent's house I was subjected to not only watching the locally broad casted game, but to listening (in unison) to a live broadcast on the radio of some out of state game. To this day, I don't know how he kept each game straight in his head, but he did. While I couldn't appreciate then, the nostalgia that I long for now, I've come to love baseball. Especially the Cubs. Especially Wrigley Field. Especially the story of the "greats".

Tonight I went to see the movie, 42. the Jackie Robinson story. It was amazing. It was funny. Most of all it was inspiring and heartfelt. A true, feel good movie. But before the movie began, I was already transported to a day of yesteryear. Outside the theater, I paused to take a photo of the movie poster, and a stranger approached and stated proudly, "I met him.". I looked in surprise as if to question, "You talkin' to me?" and he repeated, "I met him". Yes, he was talking to me. I replied something lame like, "Oh yeah?" and he began to tell his story. He met Mr. Robinson as a young child, and oh how he wished he had gotten a photo. As I listened to him, I began to think, "this man speaks baseball". And that's where this post began.

This man was relating to a complete stranger by a common thread, a theme, a story line -Jackie Robinson and baseball, a childhood hero, and an American past time. IT was a language of ease and love. A language of a simpler time when people played a sport for love not money. And for that, players became heroes. As he spoke, I began to think and wonder, what other languages do people speak? And more so, what languages do I speak?

Of course I speak English, I dabble in American Sign Language and Spanish, I butcher the language of cat, but easily understand dog. I pray I leave this planet with others being able to say that I spoke kindness, optimism, fairness, love and inspiration - but I'm a work in progress and sadly, there is no version of Rosetta Stone for any of those languages. I do know there are languages that I need to stop speaking, like that of self criticism, gossip and negativity. As I continue to examine my own multi-lingual talents, I started analyzing the linguistic talents of those around me.

I've come to realize that some people from different upbringings and different times but not necessarily different cultures, speak languages of lies and insults, criticisms and jealousy. When encountered, those languages hurt me far worse than any "naughty" words that could be spoken. But the good thing is, I've learned to focus on the more beautiful languages that surround me, the multiple languages spoken by friends. Below are translations of the languages I hear from the special people in my life. 

My New Yorker friend speaks a beautiful language of music and inspiration. Simply hearing his talented voice is breathtaking, and his words are filled with such enthusiasm you can't help but get excited about life, or whatever the subject might be that he is talking about. Next there is my Jersey Girl who speaks a no nonsense language, fueled with chutzpah, passion and honesty with an old world charm. I also have a Zen buddy who is my Yoda and despite the amount of adversity she is met with, can speak calm. I don't know if it's her Yoga practice, her faith, or singing, but she can always close a conversation with wisdom, and a sense of serene resolution. Then there is my Logical friend. Logic Woman listens with her heart, and limits the amount of "fluff" that comes out of her mouth. Don't get me wrong, Logic Woman is compassionate and kind, but will always help me put my pity party and emotions aside, in order to look at the world and my problems with a sense of logic and realistic solutions. Logic Woman melds a perfectly sensitive response with effective advice. Last but not least is my peace and quiet friend. My PQF quietly invites me to share her space, share her time, and share my problems. No matter what language I spew my words in, PQF listens calmly. I find PQF's quietness is just as profound of a language as her spoken words and I appreciate that more than I can express.

All of the languages I surround myself help improve me in some way. They help me see the beauty in life, face reality, relax, find inner peace and simply put, make me a better me. What languages do your friends speak? Have you thought about the words and attitudes that you surround yourself with, and how they impact you? What languages are you hearing? And more importantly, what language are you speaking?

K is for Kooky!

I meet the weirdest people. Ok, maybe it’s not the people that are weird, versus the stories they choose to share with me? None the less, my friends can testify (and you know who you are) that random people will come up to me, and tell me very random life stories.

Last night I indulged in a bit of pampering and decided to get a hair cut, followed up with a manicure and pedicure. I had never been to this particular salon (for the mani-pedi) but it was close to the hair parlor, so I thought, “What the heck?” and went in. I was quickly seated in a spa chair and submerged my feet in the tub of warm water and my brain into my Smart Phone.  Realizing, as I switched from my now finished pedicure to the beginning of my manicure that I had all but ignored my technician, I put away my phone and began attempting small conversation in efforts to show her that I really could be a “people person”. And here’s where the story gets kooky.

Somehow the topic of family came up and I responded that I was not married. At first I was relieved to what hear I considered Zen-like wisdom from my girl Ivy, stating that I shouldn’t look for love, but that it will find me. Followed up with, "the right person will make your heart beat faster and that you will “just know” when you meet “the one”". Next, she inquired about my preferences. Do I travel, do I like wine, did I want kids, am I open minded, etc. I thought for the most part these questions were pretty harmless until she asked me if I had any immediate travel plans. I stated my upcoming travels included California and South Carolina. Immediately her eyes lit up and she quickly cut me off to say that I “must go to Charlotte!”.  I gave her a puzzled look as she wrote down a name of a male (I can’t say whether he’s a gentleman or not as I’ve never met him) and said that I should contact him for a relationship. The icing on the cake is that this person is in his 60’s and “well established”. I inquisitively asked her how she knew this person, she grinned and did not respond.

Ok – kookville! First off, I don’t need a match maker (ok, maybe I do but I’ll start with e-harmony first!), and I surely don’t want to be set up by a stranger with a stranger! Additionally, I'm pretty certain that I don't want to date someone 25+ years my senior! I don’t care if this person could be part of the “Millionaire Matchmakers” club! And the fact that you, little Miss Matchmaker, won’t tell me how you know this person makes me afraid to know what it is you’ve done with him or for him. Kreepy!!! Should I be flattered that you think I am "good" enough to be matched up with your "well established", old "friend"? GROSS!!! I think I will try my luck in my own back yard first!

My mind continues to be intrigued by the krazyiness of last night's conversation, but trust me, I will not be “Facebooking” this individual or visiting this individual and I surely won’t be returning to the salon, either! I have to admit though, my nails look awesome in OPI’s Koala Berry polish!

J is for Junior

Junior Mints... I'm addicted to them.
What's your candy fix?

I is for Inspire

This is my second attempt at creating a post for the letter, "I". I started with the word "incredible" and didn't feel very inspired, so I decided to switch topics to the word, "inspire" hoping that it would inspire some good blogging. I'm not so sure that my methodolgy is working, but here goes.

Sometimes people say that I inspire them, and I have to giggle as I think, "If they knew the real me, they'd know better then to say that". I don't feel like I have my shit together any more then the next person, so how in the hell do I inspire anyone? I struggle day to day to find what inspires me, and more so, to get off my butt and go after what it is I want or want to do. I struggle to believe in myself. The fact is though, through my ups and downs, I never stop trying.

So how do I keep moving? What inspires me? A hard and grueling workout inspires me, running clears my brain and helps me live in the now (even if I don't get to do much of it these days). People who run marathons inspire me, people who simply try inspire me. I can't stand the, "I mights" and the, "Let me think about its" - just commit and do it! Dick Hoyt (about the only positive thing one of my old directors at work introduced me to) inspires me. He is completing his 30th Boston Marathon this year!

Animals inspire me. The ability of an abused animal to overcome it's past pain and forgive, love and live in the moment inspires me. Training dogs and seeing the changes they can make inspires me to be a better human being, and reminds me that change is possible. Bonding with my zoo animal friends (even if the relationship is a one sided spectator sport), particularly the gorillas at Lincoln Park Zoo, allows me a break from humanity and to envision the world through their eyes. A world where tiffs are settled as quickly as they begin and grudges aren't held. A world where power abounds, but is never abused. Kowali and Kwan, yes gorillas, inspire me.

Nature inspires me. While walking outdoors, breathing in the fresh Spring air and listening to the birds sing I close my eyes often. I feel that if I can just some how absorb all of nature's beauty and light, that I can be as equally good, pure and calm. (Still working on this one)

Believing that great things will happen, and that happiness is right around the corner inspires me. Some people probably think I'm a ridiculous optimistic, and not realistic, but wouldn't you rather believe in the good things, then the crappy ones? I know that ugly things happen in this world, but they're surely not inspiring.
So what inspires you? What helps you live in the moment? What makes you happy? Do you lead an inspired life? If not, get to it and you might just inspire those around you!

H is for Hospital

I am not sure how the various spammers who frequent my email address found me, but I have made it a weekly ritual to "Select All" and "Delete" in order to empty my Spam folder of the nuisances.  To insure nothing important gets deleted with the masses, I do scan the soon-to-be trash for a familiar sender's name or an important sounding subject line. Today's point of interest was from "Edith", with the subject line of "…HOSPITAL". While I don't know an Edith, I allowed my mind to roam the vastness of my over active imagination and came to the conclusion that, "Maybe this is an older lady friend of my mom's who has no way of contacting me other then this email, and she's needing to report that something has happened to my mom…" (I have an awesome imagination by the way!) So, I open the email to see what could possibly be wrong with my mom. Ha!

Poor Edith's letter to me (and how many others I wonder) opens with her stating that she is in a hospital in Trinidad dying of liver poisoning. She has no idea who might have done this to her, but she needs my help. Ok, okay…now I know I shouldn't read any further, but I indulge. Edith then tells me that she has $25 million dollars, and that her dying request is for me to reach out to her beloved butler, Wisdom, and give him 10% of the total cash that she is willing to give to me, as soon as I provide her my banking information.  

I immediately think, "What a composed lady!". I can just picture poor Edith being dragged from her home kicking and screaming, despite her acute illness, insisting that she be allowed to bring her bank book and statements, her address book and laptop along with her in the ambulance. I'm so thankful that Edith's emergency techs took such great care of her while in route to the hospital, and even made space for her extra belongings in the rig. I'm sure they easily moved their life saving supplies and equipment around to insure Edith's peace of mind during what was probably the last ride of her life.  

As the email continues, I wonder about Edith's beloved butler and think that her request to give him only 10% of the 25 million she's offering to me isn't really fair. Assuming she might be heavily medicated, I will be sure to slip him at least an extra 15% when she isn't looking. I know with a more clear mind, that is how she would have wanted it. I can just picture Wisdom, since he isn't helping Edith write this email to me, perusing the hospital gift shop searching for the most perfect bouquet of flowers or something equally as cheery to brighten Edith's last moments on Earth. "That Wisdom, dedicated 'til the end!" I think to myself.

Sadly I just don't understand how (I guess it's by God's grace alone) that  poor, withering Edith mustered the strength to wrestle the multitude of IV's from her arm and even the oxygen monitor that was probably stuck to her finger, in order to type out such a lengthy, detailed set of instructions for me. And with not a single type-o! I give it to this lady, despite being moments from death, she's got her act together! She is truly an inspiration and so selfless to share her wealth with the likes of me and her butler. Maybe, with my soon to be newly found income, I'll open up a charitable group to benefit great ladies like Edith!

In closing, let's all take a lesson from Edith. Just because you're moments from death, doesn't mean you have an excuse to give up and just lay there! Get active people!!! Tie up all of your loose ends before your passing, or even WHILE you're passing, so you don't burden anyone else with your unfinished tasks. Be sure to hire good help, and always, always give back to complete strangers.

Rest in peace, dear Edith. Rest in peace.