While this is no longer an original topic and the reputation of Los Angeles' traffic precedes this posting, I find myself having more to say about driving in L.A.
Driving here is not really driving. It is movement broken up by long periods of sitting in your car at stop lights. Or in slow moving traffic. So you are not really driving since that word is a verb that implies movement, and further which includes performing a variety of maneuvers, maintaining appropriate speed, following posted signs and adhering to a complicated system of road rules.
The skills set in demand here is actually quite different. You must be skilled at waiting and occupying yourself, controlling your temper and frustration level, creating an acceptable internal enviroment and be able to cope with the idea that spending so much time in a metal conveyance is surreal. You must also become skilled at snapping to full attention to the road when you do get to move your vehicle. And you must be paying attention at all times while driving because you have to assume that your fellow travelers aren't.
While the implementation of this idea is currently impossible due to the massive budget cuts and financial future (listening to local news here is Doomsday 101) there should be tests to see if you can endure the boredom of going 10 mph for miles at a time and can withstand high levels of frustration before you are given a license.
These are the reasons why people in L.A. do dozens of other things in their cars. It's a way to get all the stuff done that you would do later but you won't have the time because that time is getting eaten up by your commute, expectedly and otherwise.
But woe to you if you are engaged in one of these alternate activities at the interminable stop lights (like reading the newspaper or putting on mascara) because if you don't move your car 0.4 seconds after the light turns green you will be honked at. And not a friendly little tap either. People here drive like hell when the light is green in a valiant attempt to make up the time you waste while you are sitting at all the lights or in traffic. And I don't advise that you get in their way.
The situation reminds me of the word "portage," when settlers travelling by canoe leave the water and carry their boats from one body of water to another to continue their journey. That is what we are doing, carrying the canoe most of the time.
My friend Traci, a fellow CA transplant, have discussed this several times but were unable to come up with a satisfactory replacement term for the misnomer "drive." We thought the creation of a compound word or sniglet was in order.
She was discussing this concept with a friend of hers recently. The word they came up with to more accurately describe the interaction between driver and car and road was droveling. It's a combination of driving, groveling, submitting to the higher power of traffic and hoping to be granted your destination and droves, which describes the sheer number of folks on the road. At all times.
The best I was able to come up with was either dridling, which combines driving and idling (but which makes me start to sing that "Driedel Dreidel Dreidel" song in my head every time) drawdling, which combines driving with idling with crawling and dawdling but which may be semantically overambitious.
I'm liking droveling. First prize and a free round trip downtown to Traci, Santa Monica's coolest new resident! [applause applause applause]
I have been reading a series of books by Michael Connelly that are set in Los Angeles; I get inordinately pleased with myself when I know the places that are discussed or have actually been there myself. At the end of one that I just finished today, the author writes,
"The rain continued through Monday morning and slowed Bosch's drive into Brentwood to a frustrating crawl. It wasn't a heavy rain, but in Los Angeles any rain at all can paralyze the city. It was one of the mysteries Bosch could never fathom. A city largely defined by the automobile yet full of drivers unable to cope with even a mild inclemency."
Los Angeles would crumble as a civilization if there was snow here; there would be absolutely no place to plow it, the already congested roads would make travel impossible literally instead of figuratively and people would not even attempt it since rain is enough of a challenge. It makes me giggle to think about it. People here shake their head at the sheer insanity of being prevented from driving due to snow when every day their own plans revolve around when the 405 starts to get busy and how long it will take to get from one part of town to another. It's the same limitations, just for a different reason.
And the sad truth is that I don't have to wrestle with the really bad traffic. I don't have to get on the 405 to get to work, and it doesn't take me an hour to get there. If I did, then my compound word creations would probably employ a few expletives. And heaven help me, I am developing my own repetoire of alternate activities while I am at stop lights. And last week I honked at a fellow driver for the first time. I feel like I have crossed some invisible line.
I am now a droveler.
Sign from the Universe
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
The Locket - The Gift Part Two
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you Moms and Grandmas who are reading this. You are truly a gift to your children and grandchildren in ways you cannot even know. And a shout out to all the godmothers too! The gifts you give everyday are lasting ones.
Moving away from Wisconsin was very difficult for me; one of the hardest adjustments was being so far away from my mother. I have lost the comfort of knowing she is only an hour’s drive away. I am disoriented by not knowing what she is reading, not seeing what new clothes she has bought and how she has her furniture arranged. I miss the time we spent together very much.
I have been blessed with many good friends, sister girls. My mother has always been my closest friend, except, of course, for a few years in high school when I blamed her for everything wrong with my life. Her constant support and her innate understanding of me has been a blessing. I am constantly lifted up by her pep talks and rely on her wisdom. Her friends have become mine and vice versa. Her condo is my home away from home and it is a comfort to be surrounded by the art, furnishings and pottery that she loves. We are very much alike and are lucky to be so close.
The last time I was home to visit she presented me with an unexpected gift. It is a beautiful locket, silver and oval, with sapphires and detailing on a delicate chain.
She told me that she had searched for just the right thing. She wanted for me to have a piece of her, a reminder of her presence always with me. The true gift of a mother and a friend: to have me in her thoughts and to know how best to be there for me during all the changes and despite any distances.
It was a beautiful gesture. I wear it and think of her, remembering not only the strength and talents I have inherited from her but the love and support I have from her and my family. It is beautiful and she succeeded - it was just the right thing.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom - I love you!
Moving away from Wisconsin was very difficult for me; one of the hardest adjustments was being so far away from my mother. I have lost the comfort of knowing she is only an hour’s drive away. I am disoriented by not knowing what she is reading, not seeing what new clothes she has bought and how she has her furniture arranged. I miss the time we spent together very much.
I have been blessed with many good friends, sister girls. My mother has always been my closest friend, except, of course, for a few years in high school when I blamed her for everything wrong with my life. Her constant support and her innate understanding of me has been a blessing. I am constantly lifted up by her pep talks and rely on her wisdom. Her friends have become mine and vice versa. Her condo is my home away from home and it is a comfort to be surrounded by the art, furnishings and pottery that she loves. We are very much alike and are lucky to be so close.
The last time I was home to visit she presented me with an unexpected gift. It is a beautiful locket, silver and oval, with sapphires and detailing on a delicate chain.
She told me that she had searched for just the right thing. She wanted for me to have a piece of her, a reminder of her presence always with me. The true gift of a mother and a friend: to have me in her thoughts and to know how best to be there for me during all the changes and despite any distances.
It was a beautiful gesture. I wear it and think of her, remembering not only the strength and talents I have inherited from her but the love and support I have from her and my family. It is beautiful and she succeeded - it was just the right thing.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom - I love you!
Back in L.A.
Whenever I go home there is an adjustment period when I come back to L.A. I lived in Milwaukee for many years, which itself is big city that is just a collection of small town neighborhoods together. Living on the East Side for so long, I routinely saw coworkers, parents and students from school, college classmates etc. Moving to a new place where you know few people you learn to stop searching for familiar faces. The first few days back in L.A. always have me conducting those searches again. When I see a prospective person and start to think, "Oh, that is so-and-so from when I worked..." I quickly realize that it can't be the person I had in mind because whoever they are they are at least 2000 miles away. But not before my stomach drops like when you just failed a test or realize left the iron on at home.
I did have my first occurrence of seeing someone I know while about town. There is an older gentleman who is a waiter/host/man-about-the-patio at my favorite little cafe who is always friendly and who winks at me on my way out. I was on a home visit for work and was walking to the house when I saw him parking in the same block. I simultaneously thought 'Wow, I know that guy,' and 'Sheesh, I'm such a small-town girl.'
Speaking of men winking at me, Fearless Hero and I spent some quality time attending to the details of wedding planning. Do you know how many ugly wedding invitations that can be ordered online? How do two cake aficionados pick just one cake for their wedding?
We are happy to announce that we have an officiant for our re-wedding. Since we are already legally married and in our effort to make our day as personal as possible we wanted someone special to us to peform our ceremony. My Aunt Darlene, my mother's sister who is also my godmother, has graciously agreed to become our officiant-for-the-day. We are most excited and grateful.
In preparation I have been working on the script of our ceremony. Like idiots, Fearless Hero and I went to our local Borders bookstore to look at books about wedding ceremonies and vows. It was my idea so I get to be chief idiot. What we found were rows of books that addressed every aspect of weddings: how to have the perfect wedding, destination weddings, etiquette guides, honeymoon planners, guides on how to be a bridesmaid or mother of the bride, wedding toast advice books, how to make your own centerpieces or bouquets, and endless ways to conduct your wedding on a budget.
There were all of two books that addressed wedding vows, the actual reason for the wedding in the first place. It is a sad commentary on the focus of weddings in our culture. According to booksellers one should go right from the wedding planning to the self help aisle. I won't get up on my soapbox as I do spend evenings and weekend days immersed in the details of the wedding and could then be rightly be cast as a hypocrite.
In other news I was recently able to go to a medical appointment where I found the office without difficulty, didn’t get lost on the way in or out, and did not misplace my car in the byzantine parking ramp. Surprisingly, Fearless Hero was able to describe the location where I was going and not only could I picture it, I could suggest an alternate route.
I also recently went in for an MRI at the hospital across the street from my work. Despite the hospital gown and the paperwork, laying down for a half hour while listening to music through a large set of headphones while they took painless pictures of my brain was actually not so bad. It's a bit noisy and I did have to listen to Foreigner's "Waiting For a Girl Like You" but it was relaxing in a strange way. Maybe that is a comment on the hectic nature of my job.
I have come to realize that I will never catch up at work. It will never happen; it's the nature of the job. I am slowly making peace with this. I will be like the character from Greek mythology, Sisyphus, who was doomed to a fate of every day pushing an enormous rock up the hill, and every night watching it roll back down.
I make valiant attempts at remaining something approximating cheerful as I spend hours in my cubicle involved in the day's family drama du jour. My cubicle has shaped up to by quite homey, with my pictures and plants and new lamp that furnishes soft mood lighting. A coworker likened it to a compact living room. Now if I could just find a way to fit in a nice recliner and perhaps a mini-fridge.
While I get used to heaving the rock I worry about the effect of all the technical writing I do on my speech patterns and on my personal writing like this blog. Soon these postings may go something like this:
"Beth indicated that her neuroses has increased in the past few weeks. This is primarily due to her ongoing health concerns; she complains of frequent headaches with associated symptoms concurrent with her attempts at planning a wedding from a long distance. She did have a few episodes of success in overcoming her spatial deficiences while at work; she was able to locate family homes in her catchment area with decreasing difficulty. This adjustment seems to have increased her job satisfaction. Additionally, she reports that evening indulgences in several cocktails consisting of Jack Daniels Tennessee whiskey and Coke increase her overall satisfaction with life."
I'm exaggerating about the Jack and Cokes; my usual anti-stress remedy is doughnuts. I am reluctant to write about food (again). As I mentioned in a previous posting, Fearless Hero is trying to get his physical self in as heroic of shape as his inner hero self. I am being a bad influence on him by extolling the virtue of doughnuts.
My favorite place for donuts in Los Angeles is Randy's Donuts. Someone at work was talking about them one day when I was being viciously attacked by a migraine. I spent the rest of the day promising myself a visit soon and by quitting time had convinced myself that only a donut would ease my pain. (My neurologist calls this self-medicating. I guess it's good that it's fried dough and not crack or oxycodone).
Here is a blurb about Randy's Donuts from Wikipedia:
"Randy's Donuts is a landmark building in Inglewood California near Los Angeles International Airport in a style that dates back to a period during the early-to-mid-20th Century that saw a proliferation of programmatic architecturely designed buildings throughout Southern California that were made in the shape of the products they sold. In the case of Randy's, the product in question is represented by a 32.5-foot (9.9 m) doughnut on the roof of an otherwise ordinary drive-in that is a dedicated doughnut bakery. The building was designed by Henry J. Godwin. The 24-hour drive-in, also known as the "Big O," is located at 805 West Manchester Avenue at the corner of La Cienega Boulevard and is near the Manchester Avenue off-ramp of the San Diego Freeway(I-405)."
I didn't drive there of my own free will, the migraine that caused the cravings for sugar and carbs send impulses to my motor cortex that caused me to end up gazing up at their old fashioned board with plastic push-in letters with the list of their offerings. The first time I went there I bought three (who could buy less with all those options?) and it cost less than two dollars. In L.A. Shocking.
You know how when you have the flu and you throw up whatever you just ate and you find it impossible to eat that food for a long time afterwards? The reverse happened for me. After eating that devil's food donut my head felt much better. So now whenever I get a migraine I want another one and mistakenly think that it will always make me feel better. This is not good, for many obvious reasons.
It kills me that in a city that places such a high value on appearances, whose strip malls are filled with implant dentistry offices, anti-aging institutes, weight loss clinics and work out centers there is also a high density of donut shops. The newest one is in a space being remodeled to hold Beach Cities Baked Donuts. Baked = healthy right?
I'm sure when they open I will be compelled to stop in and support the local economy. But unless they put a 32 foot baked donut on top of their shop and get the recipe for those devil's food donuts I will still be driving to Randy's.
It's another weekend in L.A.; time to put the rock down, pick up a donut, and enjoy the sunshine. Have a great weekend!
I did have my first occurrence of seeing someone I know while about town. There is an older gentleman who is a waiter/host/man-about-the-patio at my favorite little cafe who is always friendly and who winks at me on my way out. I was on a home visit for work and was walking to the house when I saw him parking in the same block. I simultaneously thought 'Wow, I know that guy,' and 'Sheesh, I'm such a small-town girl.'
Speaking of men winking at me, Fearless Hero and I spent some quality time attending to the details of wedding planning. Do you know how many ugly wedding invitations that can be ordered online? How do two cake aficionados pick just one cake for their wedding?
We are happy to announce that we have an officiant for our re-wedding. Since we are already legally married and in our effort to make our day as personal as possible we wanted someone special to us to peform our ceremony. My Aunt Darlene, my mother's sister who is also my godmother, has graciously agreed to become our officiant-for-the-day. We are most excited and grateful.
In preparation I have been working on the script of our ceremony. Like idiots, Fearless Hero and I went to our local Borders bookstore to look at books about wedding ceremonies and vows. It was my idea so I get to be chief idiot. What we found were rows of books that addressed every aspect of weddings: how to have the perfect wedding, destination weddings, etiquette guides, honeymoon planners, guides on how to be a bridesmaid or mother of the bride, wedding toast advice books, how to make your own centerpieces or bouquets, and endless ways to conduct your wedding on a budget.
There were all of two books that addressed wedding vows, the actual reason for the wedding in the first place. It is a sad commentary on the focus of weddings in our culture. According to booksellers one should go right from the wedding planning to the self help aisle. I won't get up on my soapbox as I do spend evenings and weekend days immersed in the details of the wedding and could then be rightly be cast as a hypocrite.
In other news I was recently able to go to a medical appointment where I found the office without difficulty, didn’t get lost on the way in or out, and did not misplace my car in the byzantine parking ramp. Surprisingly, Fearless Hero was able to describe the location where I was going and not only could I picture it, I could suggest an alternate route.
I also recently went in for an MRI at the hospital across the street from my work. Despite the hospital gown and the paperwork, laying down for a half hour while listening to music through a large set of headphones while they took painless pictures of my brain was actually not so bad. It's a bit noisy and I did have to listen to Foreigner's "Waiting For a Girl Like You" but it was relaxing in a strange way. Maybe that is a comment on the hectic nature of my job.
I have come to realize that I will never catch up at work. It will never happen; it's the nature of the job. I am slowly making peace with this. I will be like the character from Greek mythology, Sisyphus, who was doomed to a fate of every day pushing an enormous rock up the hill, and every night watching it roll back down.
I make valiant attempts at remaining something approximating cheerful as I spend hours in my cubicle involved in the day's family drama du jour. My cubicle has shaped up to by quite homey, with my pictures and plants and new lamp that furnishes soft mood lighting. A coworker likened it to a compact living room. Now if I could just find a way to fit in a nice recliner and perhaps a mini-fridge.
While I get used to heaving the rock I worry about the effect of all the technical writing I do on my speech patterns and on my personal writing like this blog. Soon these postings may go something like this:
"Beth indicated that her neuroses has increased in the past few weeks. This is primarily due to her ongoing health concerns; she complains of frequent headaches with associated symptoms concurrent with her attempts at planning a wedding from a long distance. She did have a few episodes of success in overcoming her spatial deficiences while at work; she was able to locate family homes in her catchment area with decreasing difficulty. This adjustment seems to have increased her job satisfaction. Additionally, she reports that evening indulgences in several cocktails consisting of Jack Daniels Tennessee whiskey and Coke increase her overall satisfaction with life."
I'm exaggerating about the Jack and Cokes; my usual anti-stress remedy is doughnuts. I am reluctant to write about food (again). As I mentioned in a previous posting, Fearless Hero is trying to get his physical self in as heroic of shape as his inner hero self. I am being a bad influence on him by extolling the virtue of doughnuts.
My favorite place for donuts in Los Angeles is Randy's Donuts. Someone at work was talking about them one day when I was being viciously attacked by a migraine. I spent the rest of the day promising myself a visit soon and by quitting time had convinced myself that only a donut would ease my pain. (My neurologist calls this self-medicating. I guess it's good that it's fried dough and not crack or oxycodone).
Here is a blurb about Randy's Donuts from Wikipedia:
"Randy's Donuts is a landmark building in Inglewood California near Los Angeles International Airport in a style that dates back to a period during the early-to-mid-20th Century that saw a proliferation of programmatic architecturely designed buildings throughout Southern California that were made in the shape of the products they sold. In the case of Randy's, the product in question is represented by a 32.5-foot (9.9 m) doughnut on the roof of an otherwise ordinary drive-in that is a dedicated doughnut bakery. The building was designed by Henry J. Godwin. The 24-hour drive-in, also known as the "Big O," is located at 805 West Manchester Avenue at the corner of La Cienega Boulevard and is near the Manchester Avenue off-ramp of the San Diego Freeway(I-405)."
I didn't drive there of my own free will, the migraine that caused the cravings for sugar and carbs send impulses to my motor cortex that caused me to end up gazing up at their old fashioned board with plastic push-in letters with the list of their offerings. The first time I went there I bought three (who could buy less with all those options?) and it cost less than two dollars. In L.A. Shocking.
You know how when you have the flu and you throw up whatever you just ate and you find it impossible to eat that food for a long time afterwards? The reverse happened for me. After eating that devil's food donut my head felt much better. So now whenever I get a migraine I want another one and mistakenly think that it will always make me feel better. This is not good, for many obvious reasons.
It kills me that in a city that places such a high value on appearances, whose strip malls are filled with implant dentistry offices, anti-aging institutes, weight loss clinics and work out centers there is also a high density of donut shops. The newest one is in a space being remodeled to hold Beach Cities Baked Donuts. Baked = healthy right?
I'm sure when they open I will be compelled to stop in and support the local economy. But unless they put a 32 foot baked donut on top of their shop and get the recipe for those devil's food donuts I will still be driving to Randy's.
It's another weekend in L.A.; time to put the rock down, pick up a donut, and enjoy the sunshine. Have a great weekend!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Gifts
Two weeks ago, on a Saturday afternoon, I was sitting at the computer, attempting to go through various books and online resources to create our wedding vows and other parts of our wedding ceremony. As overwhelming as it was to wade through what turned out to be athat amount of crap it was a way to start thinking about the actual day instead of just focusing on it as an abstract concept. It was going to be such a fun gathering of people, such a celebration.
I received a phone call from my dad as I sat at my computer. I assumed it was the call he promised to give me after spending the morning attending the funeral of my older brother’s father in law, who had passed away the week before. He was a much-loved man and I knew it would be a difficult funeral to attend. I was regretting not being able to be there for my brother and sister in law and their family.
His call instead was to tell me that his mother, my Grandma Adelman, had passed away an hour ago in the nursing home where she lived in Sheboygan. She had been with family; people who she sadly no longer recognized. Pain and shock set in and I spent time talking with family and wondering how I was going to get home. My first thought was that that was where I needed to be. My focus was now on a different kind of gathering.
Here is the obvious part where I talk about the circle of life. Life and death and gatherings of family, of welcoming new members through birth and marriage and paying respects to the people that we lose. Maybe that is a comfort, maybe it is true But as always it is a little more complicated than that.
Grandma lived in a senior apartment building in Manitowoc for many years. She had more picture frames on shelves and the walls than I have ever seen assembled anywhere. And many of you had visited The Shrine of Bethness, my apartment in Milwaukee, so you know that’s saying something. She didn’t replace your baby picture with your first grade picture and kept all of them up even when you gave her your high school graduation picture. She kept in touch with family and friends far and wide and somehow managed to remember details of their children and careers and their families. Her home was full of people and stories. Her basket of Christmas cards every December can be described as something several degrees beyond a stack.
The last time I visited her at her apartment, as she was telling me another story of someone she knew, I sat in the squishy chair and counted my picture on her walls and furniture tops. My picture was displayed no less than six times. When I got the news that she had died, I thought of that visit. How many people in this world have your picture on their wall? How many people have known you since you were born and loved you even before? How many people just love you just because? How can you ever afford to lose them?
A few months ago, Fearless and Hero and I spent a Saturday with large cups of coffee staring at each other at a Coffee Bean trying to figure out if we could afford to have the wedding celebration that we wanted. Even with the ways we could cut costs and with help from our families we contemplated whether it was practical to use our sparse financial and in my case, unreliable and limited physical resources. While we truly believed we were planning the wedding for the right reasons, that is, not as a fulfillment of a fairy tale, but as a day to bring our families together and celebrate amidst a commingling of our respective peoples, it was still a possibility that needed to be discussed.
After receiving the news, Fearless Hero did what he often does when I am on of the three S’s: sad, sick or struggling: he took me for a drive. I feel safe and relaxed in the cab of his truck and know I don’t have to pay attention or navigate, that I can just look and think and enjoy the new places and sites. We drove through Chinatown and the community of Silverlake and stopped at the House of Pies. Yes, he is skilled in the art of caretaking.
As we drove one of the thoughts that kept returning was how very glad I was that we decided to be impractical and have our wedding celebration. Amidst our staring over coffees that day I remember saying that there is so much in life that needs to be gotten through, dealt with, that celebrations are necessary to store you up to get though the tough times. I didn’t have any occurrences in mind at the time but losing my grandma was the perfect example. It was hard to believe that the Universe was able to come up with yet another way to highlight how difficult the adjustment was to living in a brand new place far away from the people and comforts and familiarities of home.
I am sad that Grandma will not be there on our re-wedding day. When she was still herself she would have loved the day surrounded by family and meeting new people. The last time I visited her several months age she still know me but I knew it was a tenuous state.
One of the benefits given to employees at my new job is 5 days of bereavement leave for employees who need to travel out of state to attend a funeral of a family member. Fearless Hero spent several hours on Easter with Laptop working to get me home and he succeeded in getting me a flight. There was a feeling of panic that had started after getting off the phone with my dad at being so far away; like reverse claustrophobia, that had finally quieted.
When I first spoke to my dad about coming home his first reaction was that it was too much of a financial and physical strain to come home for only a day or two; that Grandma would certainly be looking down on me and understand. I knew I was not coming home out of a sense of duty. I was coming home for me, selfishly, and for my family. I am still learning how to do this whole life thing without my family close by but I certainly have not learned how to get through a loss like this on my own.
Easter Sunday we went out for brunch for Fearless Hero, the first generation - it was his father’s 71st birthday. A dozen or so family members gathered at Bob’s Hawaiian for food and to listen to the musicians who play on Sundays. As we were leaving the aunties and uncles heard the news and offered their condolences. Upon learning that she had been 92 years old, they each said a variation of, “Oh, she had a good long life.” It didn’t feel like an empty platitude but a truth to be celebrated and it was a comfort.
I usually spent Easter at Grandma’s house, she cooked the traditional ham and the traditional for our family torte. My mother had planned to make torte for the small Easter gathering she would be having and when we talked we both agreed there could be no more fitting activity to be doing on that Saturday. Memories of our Easter dinners had been on my mind already. I was glad that I had stacks of her recipes as a kind of account of her life and a piece of her talent.
My family asked me to do a reading at the funeral; I of course agreed without really thinking that it would require me to speak in front of people with what I knew would be a quavering voice. The passage was from the Book of Proverbs, which discussed the blessings of a wife. The irony and meaning were not lost on me as I read the words describing how a wife is a blessing beyond pearls. At the burial the morning following the services, it was a comfort to my dad and I’m sure to others to think of Grandma back with her husband, Al, who had passed away in 1965. I keenly missed Fearless Hero’s presence and endless stream of hugs. And I wished my family would have had the opportunity to spend time with him.
Our family assembled from close by and far away. My aunt and uncle and cousin from Texas made the journey and so many of Grandma’s nieces and nephews came as well. It was good to be with people that were feeling the same, to all be people who would miss her, who had happy memories and history. The service was lovely, though every time the choir would launch into another song it was a struggle to remain composed. Sitting with a brother on each side was probably the best place to be at that moment.
You learn much about the kindness of people when a sad event like this occur. High school classmates of my aunt and friends of my brother all stopped in to express their condolences and just be there. My Aunt Darlene (my mother‘s sister), Uncle Felix and cousin Stacey traveled for the services, and my friend Judi came from Green Bay. Even when there are no right words, the giving of their time and their quiet supportive presence was very comforting. Cards and calls from people also showed that people, like my mother says, can be so kind. Which is life affirming at the most unexpected of times.
You also are reminded of the real meaning of family. It is composed of people that are in your life that know you, that are important to you. And that configuration is not always conventional.
Among her papers, Grandma had a rough copy of her obituary written. She had listed her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren and the people who had preceded her in death. She had also included my mother, her former daughter in law, as “very dear friend.“ My parents have not been together for nearly 20 years, but as a testament to my mother’s extraordinary ability to touch peoples’ lives in a special way, my parents’ focus on amicability and in my family’s ability to accept a slightly different configuration, she was with all of us rightly the whole weekend. A gift can be given even after death.
Grandma had money put aside in a trust set up through the state and had several things planned for her funeral. The money in the trust could be used for any expenses related to the funeral. After the services the immediate family all went out to dinner. We ate and drank, relieved that we had made it through, and enjoyed being together. It was exactly the kind of event Grandma would have loved. After all the planning and expenses, the trust had $4 left. We could not have planned it better.
So too was the next day, after the burial services at the cemetery, where we all spent the day together at my Uncle Louis and Aunt Cathy’s house, hanging out together. We caught up with each other, looked at pictures, assembled her extensive collection of salt and pepper shakers on the living room floor and marveled. We shared memories while looking at her beautiful jewelry. People were able to take a remembrance of her
While standing at the gravesite I was more emotional than I thought I would be; grief manifests itself in ways no one can predict. But as I stood there in the wind, surrounded by gravesites of members of both sides of my family, I realized I was not crying for Grandma. I had done that the day before in the church, when I thought of all the events she would miss in her family’s lives and the loss we would all feel. What I was grieving for was myself.
Each person that you have a relationship with you create a place. Who you are when you are with this person is unique and is always slightly different than who you are with anyone else. It is furnished with memories, and yes, cluttered with baggage. I was grieving the loss of that place I had with my grandma, of a place where I always belonged. Moving so far away has made me acutely aware of these non geographical places and made me miss them more than ever.
Conversely, spending the several days afterward with family and friends reaffirmed that there are many places that I belong, many people are in my life. It was comfort to be together and to have moments of laughter and fun, good talks and reconnection amidst the tough business of death. They were gifts and having them and being with them were gifts. I felt blessed.
Besides these intangible gifts, my family also gave me a gift that will always be precious to me. My grandmother wore her wedding rings everyday for over 60 years. These rings, along with her treasured mother’s ring, were given to me. It was an unexpected act that almost overwhelmed me When I see her beautiful engagement ring on my hand I think of love. And of belonging. This gesture could not have more meaning, given me more strength and comfort at any other time in my life.
During my visit I was able to see for the first time the place where our re-wedding will be held. I liked the place very much and could picture us all assembled there. I was also able to visit my Grandma Schwoerer, my maternal grandmother who, at 95, is still one of the funniest people I know. I got to spend time with friends who kindly made time for me.
When you lose someone close, you tend to think of the best of that person, the good memories, the qualities and talents about that person, you remember their kind gestures and thoughtful actions. The pettiness, the hurts are still there as well as the regrets. The hope is to be able to let them go as we struggle to let go of that person.
I will try to remember this ideal when I think of our upcoming re-wedding. It will be a day to celebrate and share with the important people in our lives. But amidst all the happy planning, I know that marriage will not always be easy, it will not be possible to avoid the painful conflicts and the tough compromises.
But on that re-wedding day I will celebrate the gifts I have received. If you haven’t met him yet, I am looking forward to the day when you will. I am looking forward to the place we will create, our family and friends, our gifts, when we are all together.
I received a phone call from my dad as I sat at my computer. I assumed it was the call he promised to give me after spending the morning attending the funeral of my older brother’s father in law, who had passed away the week before. He was a much-loved man and I knew it would be a difficult funeral to attend. I was regretting not being able to be there for my brother and sister in law and their family.
His call instead was to tell me that his mother, my Grandma Adelman, had passed away an hour ago in the nursing home where she lived in Sheboygan. She had been with family; people who she sadly no longer recognized. Pain and shock set in and I spent time talking with family and wondering how I was going to get home. My first thought was that that was where I needed to be. My focus was now on a different kind of gathering.
Here is the obvious part where I talk about the circle of life. Life and death and gatherings of family, of welcoming new members through birth and marriage and paying respects to the people that we lose. Maybe that is a comfort, maybe it is true But as always it is a little more complicated than that.
Grandma lived in a senior apartment building in Manitowoc for many years. She had more picture frames on shelves and the walls than I have ever seen assembled anywhere. And many of you had visited The Shrine of Bethness, my apartment in Milwaukee, so you know that’s saying something. She didn’t replace your baby picture with your first grade picture and kept all of them up even when you gave her your high school graduation picture. She kept in touch with family and friends far and wide and somehow managed to remember details of their children and careers and their families. Her home was full of people and stories. Her basket of Christmas cards every December can be described as something several degrees beyond a stack.
The last time I visited her at her apartment, as she was telling me another story of someone she knew, I sat in the squishy chair and counted my picture on her walls and furniture tops. My picture was displayed no less than six times. When I got the news that she had died, I thought of that visit. How many people in this world have your picture on their wall? How many people have known you since you were born and loved you even before? How many people just love you just because? How can you ever afford to lose them?
A few months ago, Fearless and Hero and I spent a Saturday with large cups of coffee staring at each other at a Coffee Bean trying to figure out if we could afford to have the wedding celebration that we wanted. Even with the ways we could cut costs and with help from our families we contemplated whether it was practical to use our sparse financial and in my case, unreliable and limited physical resources. While we truly believed we were planning the wedding for the right reasons, that is, not as a fulfillment of a fairy tale, but as a day to bring our families together and celebrate amidst a commingling of our respective peoples, it was still a possibility that needed to be discussed.
After receiving the news, Fearless Hero did what he often does when I am on of the three S’s: sad, sick or struggling: he took me for a drive. I feel safe and relaxed in the cab of his truck and know I don’t have to pay attention or navigate, that I can just look and think and enjoy the new places and sites. We drove through Chinatown and the community of Silverlake and stopped at the House of Pies. Yes, he is skilled in the art of caretaking.
As we drove one of the thoughts that kept returning was how very glad I was that we decided to be impractical and have our wedding celebration. Amidst our staring over coffees that day I remember saying that there is so much in life that needs to be gotten through, dealt with, that celebrations are necessary to store you up to get though the tough times. I didn’t have any occurrences in mind at the time but losing my grandma was the perfect example. It was hard to believe that the Universe was able to come up with yet another way to highlight how difficult the adjustment was to living in a brand new place far away from the people and comforts and familiarities of home.
I am sad that Grandma will not be there on our re-wedding day. When she was still herself she would have loved the day surrounded by family and meeting new people. The last time I visited her several months age she still know me but I knew it was a tenuous state.
One of the benefits given to employees at my new job is 5 days of bereavement leave for employees who need to travel out of state to attend a funeral of a family member. Fearless Hero spent several hours on Easter with Laptop working to get me home and he succeeded in getting me a flight. There was a feeling of panic that had started after getting off the phone with my dad at being so far away; like reverse claustrophobia, that had finally quieted.
When I first spoke to my dad about coming home his first reaction was that it was too much of a financial and physical strain to come home for only a day or two; that Grandma would certainly be looking down on me and understand. I knew I was not coming home out of a sense of duty. I was coming home for me, selfishly, and for my family. I am still learning how to do this whole life thing without my family close by but I certainly have not learned how to get through a loss like this on my own.
Easter Sunday we went out for brunch for Fearless Hero, the first generation - it was his father’s 71st birthday. A dozen or so family members gathered at Bob’s Hawaiian for food and to listen to the musicians who play on Sundays. As we were leaving the aunties and uncles heard the news and offered their condolences. Upon learning that she had been 92 years old, they each said a variation of, “Oh, she had a good long life.” It didn’t feel like an empty platitude but a truth to be celebrated and it was a comfort.
I usually spent Easter at Grandma’s house, she cooked the traditional ham and the traditional for our family torte. My mother had planned to make torte for the small Easter gathering she would be having and when we talked we both agreed there could be no more fitting activity to be doing on that Saturday. Memories of our Easter dinners had been on my mind already. I was glad that I had stacks of her recipes as a kind of account of her life and a piece of her talent.
My family asked me to do a reading at the funeral; I of course agreed without really thinking that it would require me to speak in front of people with what I knew would be a quavering voice. The passage was from the Book of Proverbs, which discussed the blessings of a wife. The irony and meaning were not lost on me as I read the words describing how a wife is a blessing beyond pearls. At the burial the morning following the services, it was a comfort to my dad and I’m sure to others to think of Grandma back with her husband, Al, who had passed away in 1965. I keenly missed Fearless Hero’s presence and endless stream of hugs. And I wished my family would have had the opportunity to spend time with him.
Our family assembled from close by and far away. My aunt and uncle and cousin from Texas made the journey and so many of Grandma’s nieces and nephews came as well. It was good to be with people that were feeling the same, to all be people who would miss her, who had happy memories and history. The service was lovely, though every time the choir would launch into another song it was a struggle to remain composed. Sitting with a brother on each side was probably the best place to be at that moment.
You learn much about the kindness of people when a sad event like this occur. High school classmates of my aunt and friends of my brother all stopped in to express their condolences and just be there. My Aunt Darlene (my mother‘s sister), Uncle Felix and cousin Stacey traveled for the services, and my friend Judi came from Green Bay. Even when there are no right words, the giving of their time and their quiet supportive presence was very comforting. Cards and calls from people also showed that people, like my mother says, can be so kind. Which is life affirming at the most unexpected of times.
You also are reminded of the real meaning of family. It is composed of people that are in your life that know you, that are important to you. And that configuration is not always conventional.
Among her papers, Grandma had a rough copy of her obituary written. She had listed her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren and the people who had preceded her in death. She had also included my mother, her former daughter in law, as “very dear friend.“ My parents have not been together for nearly 20 years, but as a testament to my mother’s extraordinary ability to touch peoples’ lives in a special way, my parents’ focus on amicability and in my family’s ability to accept a slightly different configuration, she was with all of us rightly the whole weekend. A gift can be given even after death.
Grandma had money put aside in a trust set up through the state and had several things planned for her funeral. The money in the trust could be used for any expenses related to the funeral. After the services the immediate family all went out to dinner. We ate and drank, relieved that we had made it through, and enjoyed being together. It was exactly the kind of event Grandma would have loved. After all the planning and expenses, the trust had $4 left. We could not have planned it better.
So too was the next day, after the burial services at the cemetery, where we all spent the day together at my Uncle Louis and Aunt Cathy’s house, hanging out together. We caught up with each other, looked at pictures, assembled her extensive collection of salt and pepper shakers on the living room floor and marveled. We shared memories while looking at her beautiful jewelry. People were able to take a remembrance of her
While standing at the gravesite I was more emotional than I thought I would be; grief manifests itself in ways no one can predict. But as I stood there in the wind, surrounded by gravesites of members of both sides of my family, I realized I was not crying for Grandma. I had done that the day before in the church, when I thought of all the events she would miss in her family’s lives and the loss we would all feel. What I was grieving for was myself.
Each person that you have a relationship with you create a place. Who you are when you are with this person is unique and is always slightly different than who you are with anyone else. It is furnished with memories, and yes, cluttered with baggage. I was grieving the loss of that place I had with my grandma, of a place where I always belonged. Moving so far away has made me acutely aware of these non geographical places and made me miss them more than ever.
Conversely, spending the several days afterward with family and friends reaffirmed that there are many places that I belong, many people are in my life. It was comfort to be together and to have moments of laughter and fun, good talks and reconnection amidst the tough business of death. They were gifts and having them and being with them were gifts. I felt blessed.
Besides these intangible gifts, my family also gave me a gift that will always be precious to me. My grandmother wore her wedding rings everyday for over 60 years. These rings, along with her treasured mother’s ring, were given to me. It was an unexpected act that almost overwhelmed me When I see her beautiful engagement ring on my hand I think of love. And of belonging. This gesture could not have more meaning, given me more strength and comfort at any other time in my life.
During my visit I was able to see for the first time the place where our re-wedding will be held. I liked the place very much and could picture us all assembled there. I was also able to visit my Grandma Schwoerer, my maternal grandmother who, at 95, is still one of the funniest people I know. I got to spend time with friends who kindly made time for me.
When you lose someone close, you tend to think of the best of that person, the good memories, the qualities and talents about that person, you remember their kind gestures and thoughtful actions. The pettiness, the hurts are still there as well as the regrets. The hope is to be able to let them go as we struggle to let go of that person.
I will try to remember this ideal when I think of our upcoming re-wedding. It will be a day to celebrate and share with the important people in our lives. But amidst all the happy planning, I know that marriage will not always be easy, it will not be possible to avoid the painful conflicts and the tough compromises.
But on that re-wedding day I will celebrate the gifts I have received. If you haven’t met him yet, I am looking forward to the day when you will. I am looking forward to the place we will create, our family and friends, our gifts, when we are all together.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Good News
In spite of all the doom and gloom we hear whenever a radio or TV is turned on, a newspaper opened or website logged on to, I have decided today to celebrate some of the good things that have happened lately. Here are some, in no particular order:
Welcome to the world, Baby Maliah! My friend Amanda and her guy Michael welcomed their baby girl recently. All are doing well and first pictures look like Maliah will be as pretty as her mama!
Congratulations to my friend Ricky as he has recently received his Peace Corp assignment. It has been a long process but Fearless Hero and I are very happy for him. And, as an added bonus, he will be able to attend our re-wedding just before he leaves - how lucky are we?
Congratulations also to my dad, who has just gotten a post-retirement job that will keep him outside and busy this summer! Way to go, Pops!
Fearless Hero and I are looking forward to our trip to San Francisco in two weeks. My friend Kelly and family will be there visiting relatives so we are going to visit SF for the weekend. I have never been there so I am enjoying reading all the guidebooks and contemplating another fun adventure. And we will get to meet Baby Madyson too - we can't wait!
In other good news:
Imitrex continues to be the best medication ever created, well, right after Vicodin, and it's existence and my possession of a prescription for it is allowing me to function in a semi-normal state, or at least fool enough people of my semi-normal state.
At work I have had the pleasure of meeting many wonderful families and their children. I baked my famous Farwell Cookies for my supportive team at work as they have been supportive and very patient with all my questions. I am hanging in there at work and staff was reassured last week that despite budget cuts no layoffs are imminent. I have had a few days where the highlights were along the lines of a voicemail left by a parent who didn't hang up the phone right away and allowed me to listen the showcase showdown on The Price Is Right (I would have won the RV, damnit) but I believe I will survive.
When my friend Rebecca was here for a visit recently, I got a much-needed dose of quality girl time. It was great to have her here and to just hang out for the weekend. And during our brief shopping stints I was able to buy a number of stylish yet comfortable shoes. This may seem trivial but shoe troubles have plagued me since I arrived here and since I hate shopping going to stores with Becca and Traci and Laurie made it a most fun endeavor. If you see Becca, check out her fantastic new purse!
I have overcome my reservations and have successfully created a Facebook account. Doing this has successfully filled my afternoon. I am looking forward to checking out my friends' profiles, seeing some good pictures and having fun keeping in touch with people.
We had a great time last weekend in the park celebrating Maddie's 2nd birthday with friends. It was lovely to see so many people and to spend time with their little ones.
Fearless Hero and I have discovered the lovely Torrance Bakery that is an old fashioned joint with pastries, cookies and this amazing cake that tastes like a Hostess Cupcake, only much much better. The bad news is that it is not far from where I work and I get an hour lunch break and sometimes my self control is not so good.
www.torrancebakery.com
Last weekend we also experienced Kogi BBQ with my sister-in-law Lisa and nephew Tyler. It is the food sensation here in L.A.; I won't be able to describe it too well but go to these links to read more. I ate the best taco of my entire life.
www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=101881984
www.kogibbq.com
As I always say to my friend Tara, why do I always end up talking about food?
I hope you all have your own lists of good things that have happened lately, whether it's a momentous occasion or a small yet wonderful occurence - Happy Celebrating!
Welcome to the world, Baby Maliah! My friend Amanda and her guy Michael welcomed their baby girl recently. All are doing well and first pictures look like Maliah will be as pretty as her mama!
Congratulations to my friend Ricky as he has recently received his Peace Corp assignment. It has been a long process but Fearless Hero and I are very happy for him. And, as an added bonus, he will be able to attend our re-wedding just before he leaves - how lucky are we?
Congratulations also to my dad, who has just gotten a post-retirement job that will keep him outside and busy this summer! Way to go, Pops!
Fearless Hero and I are looking forward to our trip to San Francisco in two weeks. My friend Kelly and family will be there visiting relatives so we are going to visit SF for the weekend. I have never been there so I am enjoying reading all the guidebooks and contemplating another fun adventure. And we will get to meet Baby Madyson too - we can't wait!
In other good news:
Imitrex continues to be the best medication ever created, well, right after Vicodin, and it's existence and my possession of a prescription for it is allowing me to function in a semi-normal state, or at least fool enough people of my semi-normal state.
At work I have had the pleasure of meeting many wonderful families and their children. I baked my famous Farwell Cookies for my supportive team at work as they have been supportive and very patient with all my questions. I am hanging in there at work and staff was reassured last week that despite budget cuts no layoffs are imminent. I have had a few days where the highlights were along the lines of a voicemail left by a parent who didn't hang up the phone right away and allowed me to listen the showcase showdown on The Price Is Right (I would have won the RV, damnit) but I believe I will survive.
When my friend Rebecca was here for a visit recently, I got a much-needed dose of quality girl time. It was great to have her here and to just hang out for the weekend. And during our brief shopping stints I was able to buy a number of stylish yet
I have overcome my reservations and have successfully created a Facebook account. Doing this has successfully filled my afternoon. I am looking forward to checking out my friends' profiles, seeing some good pictures and having fun keeping in touch with people.
We had a great time last weekend in the park celebrating Maddie's 2nd birthday with friends. It was lovely to see so many people and to spend time with their little ones.
Fearless Hero and I have discovered the lovely Torrance Bakery that is an old fashioned joint with pastries, cookies and this amazing cake that tastes like a Hostess Cupcake, only much much better. The bad news is that it is not far from where I work and I get an hour lunch break and sometimes my self control is not so good.
www.torrancebakery.com
Last weekend we also experienced Kogi BBQ with my sister-in-law Lisa and nephew Tyler. It is the food sensation here in L.A.; I won't be able to describe it too well but go to these links to read more. I ate the best taco of my entire life.
www.npr.org/templates/story/
www.kogibbq.com
As I always say to my friend Tara, why do I always end up talking about food?
I hope you all have your own lists of good things that have happened lately, whether it's a momentous occasion or a small yet wonderful occurence - Happy Celebrating!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Dark Chocolate Mocha
I am winding up a rather good day; I am writing this at home on Laptop in a font called “Teen Light” which probably won't convert to this blog but which places me squarely in the category of ‘giddy‘. Laptop and I remain close and continue to discover just how compatible we are. I am drinking a dark chocolate mocha from a newly discovered coffee shop. Hence the giddiness. It is really fantastic.
Don’t know when the caffeine and sugar effects will wear off so I shall write like crazy while I still can. I sort of feel like the people in the movie “Awakenings” , with Robert De Niro and Robin Williams, who were catatonic until a new medication woke them up only to wear off after awhile, returning them to their non responsive state. I saw that movie free at the movie theater on campus during college, probably one of the first times I had a really bad migraine. If I would have known the medical roller coaster ride I would get on a few years later I probably would have requested some of that wonder drug too.
Speaking of "Teen Light," on the TV is the classic 80’s movie “Better off Dead” starring a very young John Cusack. I love it for it general wonderfulness, because it stars J.C., because his girlfriend is named Beth in the movie so there are some great phrases that he says with my name in it and because it beautifully portrays teen angst. Some of the angst feelings of being young never leave you; they just morph into another form of adult angst.
Which brings me to recent events. Yes folks, I survived another birthday. I battened down the hatches, put on my yellow rain slicker and prepared for a major freak out about life passing me by and not accomplishing enough in conjunction with missing my nearest and dearest back home and my cherished birthday traditions. I haven’t had a major freak out yet, but it’s coming in fits and starts. It sneaks up on me and then crawls back into the trenches for it’s next attack (sheesh, that’s a lot of military/nautical imagery).
I wish my neuroses would have a way to let me know how much time it is going to take for me to deal with it. I had a similar conversation with my friend Traci while we were waiting for a table for dinner on my birthday. We wished there was a way to know how long a disappointment or heartbreak would require to recover from so we could at least budget for the proper amount of ice cream and plan for how many hours recovery would take.
Despite all this, I did have a lovely birthday weekend. Fearless Hero came home from a work dinner Friday night with flowers and a piece of tiramisu from the restaurant. The day before, Saturday, was best summed up by Fearless Hero in the following list of words:
Herbs: We stopped by a nursery and garden supply place not far from our house. We had meant to stop there any number of times and never have. It was lovely to see flowers and smell spring amongst the rows of plants. We stopped to pick up some new pots of herbs. We had a lovely basil plant growing by our kitchen window but it died for lack of Fearless Heros’ attention when we journeyed to coldsnowyland for the holidays. I figured the feng shui of having a few dead or dying plants dominating our kitchen was not a good thing. We got the most cheerful Italian parsley plant as well as a new basil plant. We are hoping for the best with these.
Books: We traveled to Pasadena to go to my favorite bookstore. After learning that my favorite bookstores back in Milwaukee, Harry W. Schwartz, was closing, I felt it even more important to establish a new favorite place. We spend several hours here and were able to pick out some gifts for people as well. I did something I have never done before: I bought a hard cover book. That I hadn’t read before. That wasn’t in soft cover yet. It felt like the height of decadence. I am experiencing some guilt just writing about it now.
Clothes: Went to the clothing store H&M where I usually experience a good measure of luck. Got a few new things with a minimum of shopping fatigue.
Fettuccine Alfredo: Had dinner outside at an Italian place and I had my current favorite dish.
Cupcakes: Returned home to make a batch of red velvet cupcakes from a mix from Sprinkles bakery. Stayed up late frosting them with cream cheese frosting. Rediscovered how therapeutic it is to frost.
Old Movie: Watched “The Sting” starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford, a definite classic.
Sunday was my actual birthday and it began with getting up early to open all the lovely cards and gifts send by friends and family. Was able to talk to many people from back home throughout the day.
We had brunch with my parents - and sister-in-law and nephew at King’s Hawaiian, the restaurant and bakery that also makes the most fantastic cake which we had at our first wedding. They serve really the greatest French toast I’ve ever had made with their King’s Hawaiian sweetbread.
Fearless Hero took me on a drive on the famed Mullholland Drive afterwards, which is woodsy and wind-y and remote enough to make you feel miles away from LA but still very close to the city. I think I saw Jack Nicholson’s house but I’m not sure. We also drove through some areas of Beverly Hills and Bel-Air to gawk at fancy houses and enjoy the pretty neighborhoods. We were cut off in traffic by an NBA player in his Escalade which I suppose counts as a celebrity sighting. We did make a purchase during our afternoon drive but I have been forbidden to speak of it as it causes Fearless Hero no small amount of embarrassment. I may be able to persuade him to allow me to reveal it in another post so stay tuned.
The evening found us at our friends Laurie and Henry’s house where I was serenaded by their daughter Maddie. Our friends Traci and Ken joined us and we ventured out to an Italian restaurant in Manhattan Beach for dinner. And yes, I had fettuccine alfredo again. And cupcakes for dessert back at the house for dessert.
A few days later my friend Rebecca flew out from Milwaukee for a long weekend. We did lots of girly stuff like shopping and having lunches and she was able to spend quality time with Laurie and Traci too. Spending time with good friends is the antidote to angst no matter what your age. The visit was very good for my spirit. And my wardrobe. I hate shopping but shopping with friends is always more successful. I bought five pairs of shoes. Yes I did. Again, I feel a bit of guilt writing that.
Fearless Hero and I were finally successful in sending out our Save The Date emails for our re-wedding and worked on the website enough to invite everyone to check it out. I now have a presence on the web in two places.
And am contemplating a third. Apparently, I am the only person left without a Facebook account. I wrestle with spending time getting in touch with people when I feel like I don’t have enough time to keep up with everyone as it is. I will probably succumb sometime soon and set up a page. Then I wouldn’t have to get Fearless Hero to log on to his account to check out my friends’ latest postings and pictures. He is reluctant to log on with me around as I have been known to write some interesting things on the “What are you doing now?” part on his behalf. I guess my writing skills aren’t appreciated in all settings.
Oh, and here’s an online-related tip for you. If you are having any sort of physical symptoms, do not just go out on the web and Google it and then read the postings on the various medical websites. It will scare the bejesus out of you. And don’t do it at your lunch break at work as it will cause you to question the wisdom of spending your last few days pre-aneurysm-pre-amputation-pre-other-assorted-fatal-condition working in a greycubicle.
Speaking of work, I am happy to report that I survived the work birthday lunch ritual. Barely. Picking the venue for this outing was fraught with peril and arranging rides required an inordinate amount of discussion. I had had a frustrating morning so I had to curb my rant while in the car driving over as my coworkers I’m quite sure aren’t reading to meet Ranting Beth just yet. I try to leave her at home or at least tucked away in my greycubicle.
The restaurant was a new place for everyone and the two-for-one burgers were a hit. The success of the outing depends largely on the satisfaction with the food so this was a good thing. I couldn’t indulge in the burgers, which aroused a medium amount of suspicion and I started to not feel well during the meal so couldn’t eat much, which really isn’t good form when people are pitching in to treat you. I’m sure a few think I am Eating Disorder Beth but there are worse things. They’ll probably just attribute it to my inescapable Midwestern-ness.
I’ve now switched to the cult classic movie “Heathers”. This movie brings back the memory of watching it with a bunch of friends in high school and being the only one who found it funny. I’m glad to have found in my journeys a group of people who will share in my laughter and make bold attempts to understand my struggles.
Only the dregs of my dark chocolate mocha remain; I can feel the catatonia coming on. A pleasant angst-free evening to you all...
Don’t know when the caffeine and sugar effects will wear off so I shall write like crazy while I still can. I sort of feel like the people in the movie “Awakenings” , with Robert De Niro and Robin Williams, who were catatonic until a new medication woke them up only to wear off after awhile, returning them to their non responsive state. I saw that movie free at the movie theater on campus during college, probably one of the first times I had a really bad migraine. If I would have known the medical roller coaster ride I would get on a few years later I probably would have requested some of that wonder drug too.
Speaking of "Teen Light," on the TV is the classic 80’s movie “Better off Dead” starring a very young John Cusack. I love it for it general wonderfulness, because it stars J.C., because his girlfriend is named Beth in the movie so there are some great phrases that he says with my name in it and because it beautifully portrays teen angst. Some of the angst feelings of being young never leave you; they just morph into another form of adult angst.
Which brings me to recent events. Yes folks, I survived another birthday. I battened down the hatches, put on my yellow rain slicker and prepared for a major freak out about life passing me by and not accomplishing enough in conjunction with missing my nearest and dearest back home and my cherished birthday traditions. I haven’t had a major freak out yet, but it’s coming in fits and starts. It sneaks up on me and then crawls back into the trenches for it’s next attack (sheesh, that’s a lot of military/nautical imagery).
I wish my neuroses would have a way to let me know how much time it is going to take for me to deal with it. I had a similar conversation with my friend Traci while we were waiting for a table for dinner on my birthday. We wished there was a way to know how long a disappointment or heartbreak would require to recover from so we could at least budget for the proper amount of ice cream and plan for how many hours recovery would take.
Despite all this, I did have a lovely birthday weekend. Fearless Hero came home from a work dinner Friday night with flowers and a piece of tiramisu from the restaurant. The day before, Saturday, was best summed up by Fearless Hero in the following list of words:
Herbs: We stopped by a nursery and garden supply place not far from our house. We had meant to stop there any number of times and never have. It was lovely to see flowers and smell spring amongst the rows of plants. We stopped to pick up some new pots of herbs. We had a lovely basil plant growing by our kitchen window but it died for lack of Fearless Heros’ attention when we journeyed to coldsnowyland for the holidays. I figured the feng shui of having a few dead or dying plants dominating our kitchen was not a good thing. We got the most cheerful Italian parsley plant as well as a new basil plant. We are hoping for the best with these.
Books: We traveled to Pasadena to go to my favorite bookstore. After learning that my favorite bookstores back in Milwaukee, Harry W. Schwartz, was closing, I felt it even more important to establish a new favorite place. We spend several hours here and were able to pick out some gifts for people as well. I did something I have never done before: I bought a hard cover book. That I hadn’t read before. That wasn’t in soft cover yet. It felt like the height of decadence. I am experiencing some guilt just writing about it now.
Clothes: Went to the clothing store H&M where I usually experience a good measure of luck. Got a few new things with a minimum of shopping fatigue.
Fettuccine Alfredo: Had dinner outside at an Italian place and I had my current favorite dish.
Cupcakes: Returned home to make a batch of red velvet cupcakes from a mix from Sprinkles bakery. Stayed up late frosting them with cream cheese frosting. Rediscovered how therapeutic it is to frost.
Old Movie: Watched “The Sting” starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford, a definite classic.
Sunday was my actual birthday and it began with getting up early to open all the lovely cards and gifts send by friends and family. Was able to talk to many people from back home throughout the day.
We had brunch with my parents - and sister-in-law and nephew at King’s Hawaiian, the restaurant and bakery that also makes the most fantastic cake which we had at our first wedding. They serve really the greatest French toast I’ve ever had made with their King’s Hawaiian sweetbread.
Fearless Hero took me on a drive on the famed Mullholland Drive afterwards, which is woodsy and wind-y and remote enough to make you feel miles away from LA but still very close to the city. I think I saw Jack Nicholson’s house but I’m not sure. We also drove through some areas of Beverly Hills and Bel-Air to gawk at fancy houses and enjoy the pretty neighborhoods. We were cut off in traffic by an NBA player in his Escalade which I suppose counts as a celebrity sighting. We did make a purchase during our afternoon drive but I have been forbidden to speak of it as it causes Fearless Hero no small amount of embarrassment. I may be able to persuade him to allow me to reveal it in another post so stay tuned.
The evening found us at our friends Laurie and Henry’s house where I was serenaded by their daughter Maddie. Our friends Traci and Ken joined us and we ventured out to an Italian restaurant in Manhattan Beach for dinner. And yes, I had fettuccine alfredo again. And cupcakes for dessert back at the house for dessert.
A few days later my friend Rebecca flew out from Milwaukee for a long weekend. We did lots of girly stuff like shopping and having lunches and she was able to spend quality time with Laurie and Traci too. Spending time with good friends is the antidote to angst no matter what your age. The visit was very good for my spirit. And my wardrobe. I hate shopping but shopping with friends is always more successful. I bought five pairs of shoes. Yes I did. Again, I feel a bit of guilt writing that.
Fearless Hero and I were finally successful in sending out our Save The Date emails for our re-wedding and worked on the website enough to invite everyone to check it out. I now have a presence on the web in two places.
And am contemplating a third. Apparently, I am the only person left without a Facebook account. I wrestle with spending time getting in touch with people when I feel like I don’t have enough time to keep up with everyone as it is. I will probably succumb sometime soon and set up a page. Then I wouldn’t have to get Fearless Hero to log on to his account to check out my friends’ latest postings and pictures. He is reluctant to log on with me around as I have been known to write some interesting things on the “What are you doing now?” part on his behalf. I guess my writing skills aren’t appreciated in all settings.
Oh, and here’s an online-related tip for you. If you are having any sort of physical symptoms, do not just go out on the web and Google it and then read the postings on the various medical websites. It will scare the bejesus out of you. And don’t do it at your lunch break at work as it will cause you to question the wisdom of spending your last few days pre-aneurysm-pre-amputation-pre-other-assorted-fatal-condition working in a greycubicle.
Speaking of work, I am happy to report that I survived the work birthday lunch ritual. Barely. Picking the venue for this outing was fraught with peril and arranging rides required an inordinate amount of discussion. I had had a frustrating morning so I had to curb my rant while in the car driving over as my coworkers I’m quite sure aren’t reading to meet Ranting Beth just yet. I try to leave her at home or at least tucked away in my greycubicle.
The restaurant was a new place for everyone and the two-for-one burgers were a hit. The success of the outing depends largely on the satisfaction with the food so this was a good thing. I couldn’t indulge in the burgers, which aroused a medium amount of suspicion and I started to not feel well during the meal so couldn’t eat much, which really isn’t good form when people are pitching in to treat you. I’m sure a few think I am Eating Disorder Beth but there are worse things. They’ll probably just attribute it to my inescapable Midwestern-ness.
I’ve now switched to the cult classic movie “Heathers”. This movie brings back the memory of watching it with a bunch of friends in high school and being the only one who found it funny. I’m glad to have found in my journeys a group of people who will share in my laughter and make bold attempts to understand my struggles.
Only the dregs of my dark chocolate mocha remain; I can feel the catatonia coming on. A pleasant angst-free evening to you all...
Friday, March 6, 2009
The Goldilocks Zone
I was driving home from work today in a jubilant mood upon completing another work week. The day had flown by and I had gotten so much done; these two things never happen and definitely never occur on the same day. National Public Radio was on as I drove; I have recently become a regular listener. Oftentimes, hearing intelligent and thought provoking discussions is the perfect antidote and distraction to engaging in the unintelligent and violence provoking act of driving in LA. There are other occasions when my mood mandates that I play "99 Problems" by Jay-Z repeatedly and loudly but I am a girl of varied tastes.
During a science segment, the NPR news correspondent was talking about satellites and how there are some that measure the energy emitted from stars. Scientists are using the data amongst others to determine if life is possible on other planetary bodies. He used the phrase "the Goldilocks Zone." After I got home and did a search I learned what they were referring to was a habitable zone or HZ, which is a region of space where stellar conditions are favorable for life as it is found on Earth. It is referred to as the Goldilocks Zone because it is neither too hot or too cold, but "just right."
This struck me as the perfect description of what I am currently seeking. While this phrase could certainly apply to my extensive bodily temperature control deficiency (despite all the informative and useful training I am receiving at work, the session topic that woud be most welcome would be "How to dress and shop in CA if your body is never at the right temperature ever"), it applies more broadly to my life at the moment.
I am struggling with health issues right now, and learning that sometimes it is worse when your medical team doesn't know what is wrong with you than actually dealing with whatever definitive bad news a battery of tests might have revealed. Once again I must follow a new health regimen on the off-chance it may help me, making me feel like there will be many more hoops I must jump through before we actually come to a discovery of the true nature of my ailments and simultaneously engendering a doubt that such a discovery will ever be made (can you tell I've been writing reports all day?)
This current situation makes me feel particularly cutoff from everyone, those near and especially far, as I am often too sick and tired and/or crabby for much more than work and sleep (if you pressed Fearless Hero for an honest answer I'm sure he would dispense with the "or" in that last sentence). I am trying to learn how to live in new configuration; I feel like one of those nesting dolls. I am learning to be a:
relocated person
relocated married person
relocated married person in LA
relocated married person in LA with a new job
relocated married sick person in LA with a new job
relocated married sick person in LA with a new job who is planning a wedding.
I love the name and imagery of The Goldilocks Zone. It is the perfect way to summon up that elusive feeling we all seek and long for as we face the daily challenges of life. While I keep trudging on, I will envision myself sitting with a bowl of porridge (who are we kidding - it would be a bowl of frozen custard or red velvet cake or chocolate eclairs) that here for dramatic purposes represents my life, and pronouncing it "just right." Even if just for the day.
In other fairy tale news (is that the best segway ever or what? I'm such a rock star) (Of course the last time I referred myself as such was when I completed a purchase order at work in record time, like a seasoned pro, used the aforementioned phrase with my boss and then realized that I had already done the purchase order previously and had just wasted a half hour of my time. Fortunately I was able to retrieve the paperwork before anyone in accounting, or anywhere else for that matter, learned of my mistake), I am currently working on our wedding website. While that phrase summons images of all sorts of disgustingly drippy things we are striving to keep things relatively goop free as we try to organize and keep all our far-flung people in the loop with our wedding plans.
Since we don't have too much on the website yet, one section that we wanted to put up before people start logging on to it was "Our Story," which is, as you know, just like a fairy tale. There's a glass slipper and dwarves and everything. Writing this story has proven to be an astonishingly difficult task. I have tried several times to wrestle this one to the ground. There's a great quote in a song by Joe Strummer, off the same album that inspired my moniker, Comagirl, that goes "I'll tell you one thing that I know/ you can"t face your demons down/ you grapple 'em jack/ and pin 'em to the ground." It's a tribute song to Johnny Cash, an epitome of resilience, so as a great admirer of Cash, the lyrics are personally fitting to an even greater degree.
I am determined to take advantage of not feeling completely like crap for the first time in several weeks and I'm dizzy with all the things I could do during this most-likely short interval. The living room might be littered with hog-tied mini-demons of several varieties by the time Fearless Hero comes home (the big ones will no doubt require more time and effort to effectively tame). Or he might come home to me sitting in my recliner eating fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and playing that one addictive video game on his X-Box.
It could go either way.
During a science segment, the NPR news correspondent was talking about satellites and how there are some that measure the energy emitted from stars. Scientists are using the data amongst others to determine if life is possible on other planetary bodies. He used the phrase "the Goldilocks Zone." After I got home and did a search I learned what they were referring to was a habitable zone or HZ, which is a region of space where stellar conditions are favorable for life as it is found on Earth. It is referred to as the Goldilocks Zone because it is neither too hot or too cold, but "just right."
This struck me as the perfect description of what I am currently seeking. While this phrase could certainly apply to my extensive bodily temperature control deficiency (despite all the informative and useful training I am receiving at work, the session topic that woud be most welcome would be "How to dress and shop in CA if your body is never at the right temperature ever"), it applies more broadly to my life at the moment.
I am struggling with health issues right now, and learning that sometimes it is worse when your medical team doesn't know what is wrong with you than actually dealing with whatever definitive bad news a battery of tests might have revealed. Once again I must follow a new health regimen on the off-chance it may help me, making me feel like there will be many more hoops I must jump through before we actually come to a discovery of the true nature of my ailments and simultaneously engendering a doubt that such a discovery will ever be made (can you tell I've been writing reports all day?)
This current situation makes me feel particularly cutoff from everyone, those near and especially far, as I am often too sick and tired and/or crabby for much more than work and sleep (if you pressed Fearless Hero for an honest answer I'm sure he would dispense with the "or" in that last sentence). I am trying to learn how to live in new configuration; I feel like one of those nesting dolls. I am learning to be a:
relocated person
relocated married person
relocated married person in LA
relocated married person in LA with a new job
relocated married sick person in LA with a new job
relocated married sick person in LA with a new job who is planning a wedding.
I love the name and imagery of The Goldilocks Zone. It is the perfect way to summon up that elusive feeling we all seek and long for as we face the daily challenges of life. While I keep trudging on, I will envision myself sitting with a bowl of porridge (who are we kidding - it would be a bowl of frozen custard or red velvet cake or chocolate eclairs) that here for dramatic purposes represents my life, and pronouncing it "just right." Even if just for the day.
In other fairy tale news (is that the best segway ever or what? I'm such a rock star) (Of course the last time I referred myself as such was when I completed a purchase order at work in record time, like a seasoned pro, used the aforementioned phrase with my boss and then realized that I had already done the purchase order previously and had just wasted a half hour of my time. Fortunately I was able to retrieve the paperwork before anyone in accounting, or anywhere else for that matter, learned of my mistake), I am currently working on our wedding website. While that phrase summons images of all sorts of disgustingly drippy things we are striving to keep things relatively goop free as we try to organize and keep all our far-flung people in the loop with our wedding plans.
Since we don't have too much on the website yet, one section that we wanted to put up before people start logging on to it was "Our Story," which is, as you know, just like a fairy tale. There's a glass slipper and dwarves and everything. Writing this story has proven to be an astonishingly difficult task. I have tried several times to wrestle this one to the ground. There's a great quote in a song by Joe Strummer, off the same album that inspired my moniker, Comagirl, that goes "I'll tell you one thing that I know/ you can"t face your demons down/ you grapple 'em jack/ and pin 'em to the ground." It's a tribute song to Johnny Cash, an epitome of resilience, so as a great admirer of Cash, the lyrics are personally fitting to an even greater degree.
I am determined to take advantage of not feeling completely like crap for the first time in several weeks and I'm dizzy with all the things I could do during this most-likely short interval. The living room might be littered with hog-tied mini-demons of several varieties by the time Fearless Hero comes home (the big ones will no doubt require more time and effort to effectively tame). Or he might come home to me sitting in my recliner eating fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and playing that one addictive video game on his X-Box.
It could go either way.
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