Last night Oprah did a show about the lives of 30-year-old women around the world. I wasn't going to watch but it was actually really interesting... that's interesting, like I didn't know we were so... such... losers.
I was surprised and to find that I was a little ignorant about some of the other lifestyles and traditions featured on the show-- Kuwait, Rwanda, Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia), Australia, Mexico, Brazil, France, Iraq, etc. Except for the woman living in Rwanda, it appears we U.S. women are missing the international boat on shopping, massage, wine, body upkeep and general merry-making. What really disappointed me though was the constant refrain from all the women in these varied and culturally rich places: American women are fat, American women are culturally ignorant, American women don't take pride in their appearance, American women don't enjoy their femininity, American women are loud, big, pushy, self-absorbed. And so on.
Wow, well, OK. As a fat, loud, comfortably-dressed, ignorant American woman, I'd just like to say -- whatever. I don't want to excuse real ignorance and lack of concern for other people groups. But in my own defense, I can only say that there are are 298 million U.S. residents -- and 6.114 billion other people in the world. We're 4.6% of the world population, according to the U.S. census bureau. And we're supposed to know about every thing that happens in each and every one of those other countries? The really ironic part is that in many cases, the women from those countries don't appear to know us at all.
The average American woman I know is a tender mom, a good friend, generous to a fault, loves to laugh, longs for romance, is a loyal wife or girlfriend. She's thoughtful, funny and really, pretty open minded. She'd like to be thinner, prettier and have more massages but she responds to stress by eating and yet struggles with her self image. She works in and out of the home.
The women I know openly weep over world disasters -- like the tsunami in Asia. They don't have emotional off switches and they don't shout everything they say.
But it isn't just American women: that's what people think of all Americans, isn't it? Dare I say it? I shall! I think it's fashionable to bash Americans, while at the same time holding out a hand for cash. We give -- but not enough. We're rich -- but we're stupid. We're poorly educated -- but our universities are filled with international students. We're lazy -- but we work too hard.
Here's what we are: we're blessed, we're lucky, we're who we are by a simple twist of fate -- that we were born here and not in Bangladesh or Siberia. Now that we are here, we work hard. And we'll share with our world brothers and sisters, even as we're vilified and demonized.
I wouldn't trade it for the world, whatever they say about us.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Monday, December 20, 2004
Merry Christmas
My best gift has already come. My childhood friend came to my dad's house on Saturday. We've been friends for almost 30 years, so there isn't much we can't or don't talk about and it was so deeply joyful to see her. I can't even say how much I love spending time with old friends, I should stop being so lazy and do this more often.
That's Christmas for me -- that feeling of being deep and safe in the arms of family and friends. I'm so lucky, because I love where I work and I am so happy when I come home at night to my husband and kid(s) and critters. There have been times lately when I have felt restless and lonely but I just got a heaping helping of what I need most-- closeness, affection, laughter, trust, friendship, safety. Turkey and mashed potatoes, Scrabble with my mom, the ritual of Christmas morning (even if it's a little early). These are the real gifts -- the ones that don't come with bills and the ones that I will hide in my heart for the dry times.
Thanks to God for his gift that enables all other gifts, tangible and intangible. What we have is so precious, I hope you all stop and savor the flavors and aromas of life this Christmas season.
And if I don't talk to you again, Merry, merry Christmas.
Gloria, Gloria! they cry, for their song embraces all that the Lord has begun this day: Glory to God in the highest of heavens! And peace to the people with whom he is pleased! And who are these people? With whom does the good Lord choose to take his pleasure? The shepherds. The plain and nameless--whose every name the Lord knows well. You. And me.—
--Walter Wangerin Jr.
"Somehow he [Tim] gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant for them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."
--Charles Dickens (A Christmas Carol)
That's Christmas for me -- that feeling of being deep and safe in the arms of family and friends. I'm so lucky, because I love where I work and I am so happy when I come home at night to my husband and kid(s) and critters. There have been times lately when I have felt restless and lonely but I just got a heaping helping of what I need most-- closeness, affection, laughter, trust, friendship, safety. Turkey and mashed potatoes, Scrabble with my mom, the ritual of Christmas morning (even if it's a little early). These are the real gifts -- the ones that don't come with bills and the ones that I will hide in my heart for the dry times.
Thanks to God for his gift that enables all other gifts, tangible and intangible. What we have is so precious, I hope you all stop and savor the flavors and aromas of life this Christmas season.
And if I don't talk to you again, Merry, merry Christmas.
Gloria, Gloria! they cry, for their song embraces all that the Lord has begun this day: Glory to God in the highest of heavens! And peace to the people with whom he is pleased! And who are these people? With whom does the good Lord choose to take his pleasure? The shepherds. The plain and nameless--whose every name the Lord knows well. You. And me.—
--Walter Wangerin Jr.
"Somehow he [Tim] gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant for them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."
--Charles Dickens (A Christmas Carol)
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
blogjam
Christmas is coming
It's obvious that Christmas plans have overtaken every part of my life. The writing has gone by the wayside and so has everything else I normally do in the evenings and on the weekends. Now there is just endless evenings of wrapping in front of ABC Family's "25 days of Christmas". Actually I'm moving away from wrapping and on to Christmas cards, now.
I don't think this is a bad thing, I'm just saying...
Getting out in front of the New Year's Resolution
I've given myself an early New Year's resolution, promising myself and God to get back to reading the word each day. I equate my spiritual journey to weight loss -- something I need to do for my own health but also something which is easy to blow off when temptation comes along. I'm ashamed to admit this but it's the reality I live in. I'm easing in to it by switching back and forth between my Bible (in a kind of wherever-it-falls-open methodology) and Nicole Johnson's book "Fresh Brewed Life". Last night I read through most of the first chapter of her book and most of Joel. I don't know what it all means yet but I know I feel better already. I was starting to get a dark angry cloud and this morning it really did feel as though the sun was coming out again. It was so good to read that there are other women who feel just like I do sometimes -- when I think I am going crazy and I must be the only one thinking this stuff...
Ms. Johnson quotes another author, Emilie Griffin:
"HE is the one who can tell us the reason for our existence, our place in the scheme of things, our real identity. It is an identity we can't discover for ourselves, that others can't discover in us -- the mystery of who we really are. How we have chased around the world for answers to that riddle, looked into the eyes of others for some hint, some clue, hunted in the multiple worlds of pleasure and experience and self-fulfillment for some glimpse, some revelation, some wisdom, some authority to tell us our right name and our true destination."
And that is how I feel. Maybe this is a mid life crisis only a little bit early, perhaps. I want to have a talk with God and ask Him, "What is my right name?" Where do I fit? Who needs me and for what?
Blessed Beyond Measure
What makes me most irritated about myself and that grey cloud I've been under is the absolute stupidity of it. I am so blessed it's practically running out my ears. My life is a little glittering diamond of a life, sparkly, hard, full of beauty and promise. I am really, really thankful. I am.
But still, I'd like to know,
what
is
my
right
name?
It's obvious that Christmas plans have overtaken every part of my life. The writing has gone by the wayside and so has everything else I normally do in the evenings and on the weekends. Now there is just endless evenings of wrapping in front of ABC Family's "25 days of Christmas". Actually I'm moving away from wrapping and on to Christmas cards, now.
I don't think this is a bad thing, I'm just saying...
Getting out in front of the New Year's Resolution
I've given myself an early New Year's resolution, promising myself and God to get back to reading the word each day. I equate my spiritual journey to weight loss -- something I need to do for my own health but also something which is easy to blow off when temptation comes along. I'm ashamed to admit this but it's the reality I live in. I'm easing in to it by switching back and forth between my Bible (in a kind of wherever-it-falls-open methodology) and Nicole Johnson's book "Fresh Brewed Life". Last night I read through most of the first chapter of her book and most of Joel. I don't know what it all means yet but I know I feel better already. I was starting to get a dark angry cloud and this morning it really did feel as though the sun was coming out again. It was so good to read that there are other women who feel just like I do sometimes -- when I think I am going crazy and I must be the only one thinking this stuff...
Ms. Johnson quotes another author, Emilie Griffin:
"HE is the one who can tell us the reason for our existence, our place in the scheme of things, our real identity. It is an identity we can't discover for ourselves, that others can't discover in us -- the mystery of who we really are. How we have chased around the world for answers to that riddle, looked into the eyes of others for some hint, some clue, hunted in the multiple worlds of pleasure and experience and self-fulfillment for some glimpse, some revelation, some wisdom, some authority to tell us our right name and our true destination."
And that is how I feel. Maybe this is a mid life crisis only a little bit early, perhaps. I want to have a talk with God and ask Him, "What is my right name?" Where do I fit? Who needs me and for what?
Blessed Beyond Measure
What makes me most irritated about myself and that grey cloud I've been under is the absolute stupidity of it. I am so blessed it's practically running out my ears. My life is a little glittering diamond of a life, sparkly, hard, full of beauty and promise. I am really, really thankful. I am.
But still, I'd like to know,
what
is
my
right
name?
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Food Porn
One of the biggest laughs I've gotten so far this week has to do with the introduction (or reintroduction, rather) of the Monster Burger at Hardee's. First, read this article. You should probably also know that I am a former marketing manager for Hardee's. Hence, the reason I care about this tempest in a drink cup.
After years of some really hard times, Hardee's is getting back on its feet -- using whatever means are available, even "food porn". I love the fact that they are now getting some really high profile PR by flying in the face of the healthy-low carb-diet-ourselves-miserable mentality we're beginning to adopt here in the land of plenty. Not that we shouldn't look in the mirror a little more: we are pretty fat. Believe me, as a lifelong dieter, I don't think people should eat a Monster Burger every day. But come ON --- once in a while is OK.
After all, any guesses on the average fat and calories of a sandwich at Panera? They have 8 sandwiches that are over 800 calories each. How about the Dulce de Leche Caramel Cheesecake at Cheesecake Factory? 1010 cal/71 g fat/84 g carb. There's over a 1,000 calories in the Kung Pao Shrimp at P.F. Chang's, 1,280 calories in the Sweet and Sour Pork. Schlotsky's still boasts the highest calorie single sandwich I've ever seen -- the large Original has 1917 cal/102 g fat/8 g fiber/161 g carbs. Now that's a sandwich any Survivor cast member would love to see in Jeff Probt's hands on challenge day.
Truth is, there's a lot of food out there that is bad for you in quantity. But there's also undeniable pleasure in treating yourself to something decadent and gooey once in a great while. After many years of Weight Watchers, I still eat pizza and I still brake for the s'mores and other yummy things at Silver Dollar City when we go at Christmas time. I've learned that I simply don't trust people who don't like food. The whole "food for fuel" mentality honestly gets me down. So we try to eat light and healthy every day -- and have really good treats once in a while. Shave ice on vacation. Mac & cheese and a dixie cup sized taste of homemade peach cobbler from a soul food place on a Friday night, just before we go burn off some energy decorating the church for Christmas. Italian at a nice restaurant before we go to see a play. These things are, in my estimation, part of why it's great to live in America today.
Some day Americans will be thinner and healthier and then we'll need another movement -- one to restore people's sense of humor, which is being dieted off, or liposuctioned out, maybe.
Excess on occasion is exhilarating. It prevents moderation from acquiring the deadening effect of a habit.
-W. Somerset Maugham
After years of some really hard times, Hardee's is getting back on its feet -- using whatever means are available, even "food porn". I love the fact that they are now getting some really high profile PR by flying in the face of the healthy-low carb-diet-ourselves-miserable mentality we're beginning to adopt here in the land of plenty. Not that we shouldn't look in the mirror a little more: we are pretty fat. Believe me, as a lifelong dieter, I don't think people should eat a Monster Burger every day. But come ON --- once in a while is OK.
After all, any guesses on the average fat and calories of a sandwich at Panera? They have 8 sandwiches that are over 800 calories each. How about the Dulce de Leche Caramel Cheesecake at Cheesecake Factory? 1010 cal/71 g fat/84 g carb. There's over a 1,000 calories in the Kung Pao Shrimp at P.F. Chang's, 1,280 calories in the Sweet and Sour Pork. Schlotsky's still boasts the highest calorie single sandwich I've ever seen -- the large Original has 1917 cal/102 g fat/8 g fiber/161 g carbs. Now that's a sandwich any Survivor cast member would love to see in Jeff Probt's hands on challenge day.
Truth is, there's a lot of food out there that is bad for you in quantity. But there's also undeniable pleasure in treating yourself to something decadent and gooey once in a great while. After many years of Weight Watchers, I still eat pizza and I still brake for the s'mores and other yummy things at Silver Dollar City when we go at Christmas time. I've learned that I simply don't trust people who don't like food. The whole "food for fuel" mentality honestly gets me down. So we try to eat light and healthy every day -- and have really good treats once in a while. Shave ice on vacation. Mac & cheese and a dixie cup sized taste of homemade peach cobbler from a soul food place on a Friday night, just before we go burn off some energy decorating the church for Christmas. Italian at a nice restaurant before we go to see a play. These things are, in my estimation, part of why it's great to live in America today.
Some day Americans will be thinner and healthier and then we'll need another movement -- one to restore people's sense of humor, which is being dieted off, or liposuctioned out, maybe.
Excess on occasion is exhilarating. It prevents moderation from acquiring the deadening effect of a habit.
-W. Somerset Maugham
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Yeshua
Pretty little boy, with olive skin
and fine dark eyes, soft hair,
tiny perfect fingernails and the
rosebud lips all new babies have.
Perfect flower blooming among weeds,
innocent, gentle, greatly adored,
Angels wheel in the night sky
shouting for joy at Your birth.
From humility and obscurity,
You came to bring joy and life.
Water springs in the desert--
at last our Messiah has come!
Slowly, you drift to sleep while
the world wakes up around You.
Time begins again
in this moment and miracle of Your birth.
and fine dark eyes, soft hair,
tiny perfect fingernails and the
rosebud lips all new babies have.
Perfect flower blooming among weeds,
innocent, gentle, greatly adored,
Angels wheel in the night sky
shouting for joy at Your birth.
From humility and obscurity,
You came to bring joy and life.
Water springs in the desert--
at last our Messiah has come!
Slowly, you drift to sleep while
the world wakes up around You.
Time begins again
in this moment and miracle of Your birth.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
loser
Lost all my template formatting again, I really, really hate that. I don't even know how it happens. Might help if I actually knew html, oh well.
So, have given the blog a little refresh, not sure if I like it though.
Except the bookshelf, I like that. I'm a voracious reader and those are some of my recent favorites...
(sigh) Have lost some of my favorite blog links ... so if I had you linked and now don't, jus comment below and I'll put you back up. Or if you're a regular and you'd like to be added, I'd love to!
~rose~
So, have given the blog a little refresh, not sure if I like it though.
Except the bookshelf, I like that. I'm a voracious reader and those are some of my recent favorites...
(sigh) Have lost some of my favorite blog links ... so if I had you linked and now don't, jus comment below and I'll put you back up. Or if you're a regular and you'd like to be added, I'd love to!
~rose~
First Snow of Winter
Snow come in on white cat feet
come in silence, come on wings.
Come like God is throwing jewels
which His angels swoop to catch.
Come to cover, soft and still
Drift us in to bed, to sleep.
come in silence, come on wings.
Come like God is throwing jewels
which His angels swoop to catch.
Come to cover, soft and still
Drift us in to bed, to sleep.
Monday, November 22, 2004
Thanksgiving
Like a lot of families, we always try to start our Thanksgiving meal by saying something we're really thankful for. Here are some of my thoughts:
- a belief in God that stirs me to do better and be better.
- my husband, T. We've been each other's lighthouse for a lot of years now. Steady on, T.
- healthy, happy, well-adjusted stepdaughters who get that people need discipline and that some things must be earned.
- My cats on either side of my ankles at night... my warm and furry bookends.
- My parents, who not only gave me life but also explained to me that I had an obligation to use it to serve others whenever possible.
- Friends who don't see what the rest of the world sees, but rather see the softer, kinder, funnier me that I can be when I know I'm safe.
- A little house that is modest, unpretentious, weatherproof and comfortable enough to welcome friends and family any time someone calls and says they're a few blocks away and can they come by?
- books, which open worlds I might never have thought of or seen.
- music, which is often company enough and can always make me feel better.
- A job that is interesting, rewarding and "safe" from destructive politics and poor management.
- the gift of travel, both personal and professional.
- living in America, where there is abundance, health, help, an incredible standard of living and the freedom to vote, worship, speak, go, create, build and love as we see fit.
- tinted moisturizer
- good genes
- Weight Watchers
- that I don't have to feel like a high school dork any more.
- Diet Coke
- a great sense of direction, literally and figuratively.
- the internet
- a good education
What are you thankful for? C'mon, I don't get many comments...
I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. God bless you!
Friday, November 12, 2004
Heaven looks like Hawaii
Since we got back from Hawaii, I've been wanting to set down a few things in writing, here, there, or elsewhere. Here is as good a spot as any. So spread out your beach mat and allow me to talk story. Mahalo!
Day 1
So far, leaving feels a lot lot every business trip I take, except now I have Tim with me. The first leg is a short one - just to Denver. Once there, we have 2 1/2 hours to kill so we walk around with my overpacked book bag and try to decide on the lowest carb lunch. Finally we just go for what looks good and get a burrito the size of my thigh. Not bad! We walk around some more, looking at the other destinations. Tim raises his eyebrows when I tell him I would throw over Hawaii today for London. Silly me.
We get back on the plane. Looong flight. 7 more hours. Time slips backwards as we wing our way across almost 4,000 miles. By the time we land in Honolulu, we are halfway to Japan and I am as far from home as I have ever been. (But not T, who has been to South Korea and Vietnam). Of course, when we get there, we're too tired to do much more than take a walk down to greet the sea and have a mediocre coffeeshop dinner. Off to bed - 8:30p.
Day 2
Logistically, one of our smartest days. We have breakfast at the Chinese buffet in front of our hotel, the Holiday Inn Waikiki. ( I fervently pray for the food to get better.) The we hop the free shuttle to Hilo Hattie's on Nimitz and enter a Disneyland of Hawaiian souvenirs. $100 lighter --later, we take the (free) shuttle to Aloha Tower to start a walking tour of Chinatown. We delay slightly for rain, then set off. This gives us a chance to take the elevator to the top of the Aloha Tower for a panoramic view of Honolulu.
For whatever reason, we always have an affinity for Asian neighborhoods. I think it's because we like food and their communities have so many exotic offerings and presentations. We pass the lei sellers, fish vendors, fruit and vegetable stalls. I notice there's no apples, oranges or tomatoes anywhere we go. But if you want bananas, pineapple, mango, papaya, guava, breadfruit, lychee, well, this is your place.
We proceed along the walking tour outlined in Frommer's and end up in a plaza, anchored on one end by lots of Chinese men playing cards, dominoes and chess. Some scraggly haole on a bike oozes by and as he passes, he says "Hey, want some Maui Wowie?" Farm Girl turns to Nebraska Boy and says, "Did that guy just offer me drugs?" We later watched a deal go down between himself and a middle aged Chinese guy. We also cut our walking tour short after that. But we did briefly stop to watch as the crew from "Lost" set up to film a bank robbery scene.
Our evening was topped off by a Mai Tai and a Blue Hawaiian poolside at the Hilton Hawaiian Village and the show at the super pool. Then we went to take advantage of a buy one get one free coupon for the very lovely Golden Dragon restaurant --- scallops with eggplant and lemon chicken! The wind kicks up and the rain comes in, running the patio diners inside. Bed at 8:30p.
Day 3
Diamond Head is everywhere in Waikiki. It's even a direction. We wanted to hike it early. We waited 15 minutes on the wrong side of the street for the bus -- and missed it, then another hour for a bus to the park entrance and walked in to the crater. Once there, we bumped in to a family that had gotten tired of waiting for the bus and walked, just over 2.5 miles. They were already hot and tired and hadn't even started the climb!
Up we went, along the narrow, stony and moderately crowded path, through tunnels and up two staircases, through an aging military Fire Control Station and finally, out to the breezy, breathtaking view of the coastline and surrounding city. We shared the moment with 50 sweaty tourists and a half dozen small gray mice that evidently don't mind having lots of guests.
Back to Waikiki for some lunch, which we had at this little subterranean bar and grill called Snapper's. A little time to walk the beach and rest before dressing for dinner on the Navatek. A Chi-chi for me and a Lava Flow for T and dinner of Mahi-Mahi, chicken, salad, potatoes, rice, veggies and rolls, with coconut cake for dessert. The view was wonderful and the show was cute. For our anniversary, T bought us the souvenir picture, which I clung to like it was my child. Yet somehow when we got back to the hotel I realized I didn't have it. Lost it. I called the bus line but they said they couldn't find it. Grrr.
Day 4
Still not up much past 9 and waking at 4:30 a.m. works to our advantage and we get an early start, getting a rental car and heading Ewa (west) to H1 and the North Shore. I drive to allow T to gawk all he wants and I try not to stew about the lost photo. We drive past Schofield Barracks, Dole Plantation and many, many red fields filled with pineapple before cresting a small rise and seeing Haleiwa and the North Shore stretching out before us. We drive through the morning sun and stop outside of Haleiwa where we see surfers darting across the highway. We park and walk out on to a small crescent of beach and for a while I just walk up and down. We are 2 of 4 people on shore. A man in board shorts stands knee deep in the water, riveted by the motion and the waves. Man , do I know how that guy feels! I poke fingers in tidal pools, let the waves lap over my feet and just generally hang loose. We double back to Haleiwa for lunch at the Breakers and a pit stop at the Surf Museum, then shave ice at Matsumoto's, which we eat at Haleiwa Beach Park, while we watch a dark grey raincloud move in and the wind kicks up. Tropical shave ice with tiny red azuki beans and ice cream for him, just guava for me.
We stop a half dozen times at different beaches, including the very famous Sunset Beach. We drive past old sugar mills, roadside sweetcorn stands, shrimp farms and through modest, rural windward Oahu. We wrap up the afternoon with a stop at a Macadamia Nut Outlet near Kualoa Ranch and then a side trip to Nu'uanu Pali Lookout-- the rain finally caught up to us here.
We grabbed an early dinner at Brew Moon for Blackened Ahi and Chili Shrimp and a shrimp and red pepper pizza. Delicious!
Day 5
Up early for a drive across to Waianae and Wild Side Specialty Tours. "Slippers" off, contacts in, I am so ready for this trip! We join another couple and a family of 5 for a 4-hour sail and snorkel. There's nothing I can tell you about this day that can capture it-- the sapphire water, the rugged, empty valleys of the leeward side, the kindness of the crew (Denise and Russell). Then we spot spinner dolphins and, well, it's a hankie moment. We slip quickly in to the water while a larger than normal pod of dolphins speed around us like a slick grey flipper freeway. It's awesome. We watch until they are gone and then take off again. We catch up to another large pod and in we go again. If that is the best experience I ever have in my life, it was enough to justify living. Later, we head for Makaha and I spend what seems like an hour rocking in the water while I watch honu (green sea turtles) a few feet below me in the bay. T and I fight a little seasickness once the adrenaline subsides, for which they deal over candied ginger. Wonderful, sweet with bite -- and it works.
Back on dry land, we head to Eggs N' Things for a brunch of omelets and pancakes with coconut syrup. The rest of the afternoon we walk around Waikiki. It ocurred to me to try to call Navatek Cruises to see if someone might have turned the picture in. T though it was a long shot but I figured if someone did find it, they might turn it in there. 2 minutes after I got on the phone with the ticket office they said someone had found it on the bus earlier in the day and turned it in! Exhausted by dinnertime we opt for an easy meal of Round Table Pizza (Garlic Supreme, yum!) and election returns on TV.
Day 6
Up early yet again, we take the Bus to Pearl Harbor and spend the morning touring the memorial and museum. It is a muted morning, reminding me not only of the losses here but the loss of life on 9/11 as well. By noon, I've had all the sadness I can take and we skip a loosely planned trip to the USS Missouri in favor of the Aloha Stadium Flea Market. Best place for cheap souvenirs! You bet! Also not a bad place for an gyro when you've been walking all morning and it's hot. I swear the stadium has 2 climates -- rainy and cool on one side, blazing hot on the other. Wierd.
We scoot back to the bus depot at HHV to pick up our missing anniversary picture. A smiling Navatek employee walks right up to us and hands over the photo, for which I am still extremely grateful. For dinner, we work some coupon magic and go to Singha Thai where we eat slowly to get the early seating required by the coupon and also get to watch the Royal Thai dancers. I am now officially in love with green curries and I thought T was going to kiss the waitress when his coconut ice cream arrived.
Day 7
A beach day, for the most part, interrupted by a sail on the Atlantis sub. We visit the artificial reefs and see an aquarium's worth of tropical fish and even a small shark. A sleepy looking sea turtle is parked on the fore deck of a sunken fishing vessel. I love the trip but am wishing desperately for more of the candied ginger by the time we board the shuttle boat back to Hilton Hawaiian Village. Once on shore, I collapse like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. I actually doze off on my little bamboo mat in the in-and-out-of-the-clouds sunshine while T hikes up and down the beach, industrious and un-seasick. About an hour later I recover enough to join him and we go on our most ambitious walk, a 3.25 mile round trip along Waikiki and down to the Natatorium. We wander through the Royal Hawaiian and Halekulani like we own the place, then as the sun goes down we have a delicious candlelit dinner at Village Steak and Seafood in HHV.
Day 8
Our last full day, we head to Hanauma Bay for snorkeling, in the rain. By the time we get our gear stowed and head to the beach, the showers are steady, the skies are dull. We head out and I quickly realize that the water is rougher than I anticipated -- I see why 2002 had 12 drownings there. I lose T and that scares me more-- I can only describe the feeling as the same one I had when I once lost the girls at the mall. I finally spot him wading on shore. He is having trouble with his mask and decides he has had enough. He stays mostly on the sidelines for the next 2 hours while I snorkel cautiously, alone. Eventually we decide to give up, since the rain and the increasing number of feet are stirring the water up and making it more difficult to see and enjoy the bounty of tropical fish. We spend a rainy afternoon watching TV and dozing and decide during a break in the weather to walk to Victoria Ward Centers for dinner. The rain reasserts itself just as we arrive and we finally settle on the Big City Diner and a walk through Dave and Buster's before heading home in the toad-choking torrents.
Day 9
We spend a beautiful, sunny morning packing all our treasures away for the ride home and then head to Eggs N'Things for a cocnut syrup fix and down to the beach for a final farewell. We shower just before late check out and have 5 hours to kill, so we walk through the Ilikai (another neighboring hotel) and then head back to HHV and waste much of the afternoon browsing the shops and sitting in the cool, comfortable lobby, watching guests come and go and, later, watching some Marines arrive with their dates for a birthday ball. We have a final dinner at Singha Thai and then back to the Holiday Inn to change to our mainland clothes.
Once at the airport, we just tried to keep each other awake until 10:50 p.m. boarding. Only one night in Hawaii did I stay up past 11 p.m. and that was the night before we headed home. On board, I dozed for an hour or two at a time. I would periodically wake up through the night/morning to see Tim, still wide awake. We arrived home at 1 p.m. KC time -- for 2 days I was so disoriented I couldn't remember what day it was.
Well, that's it. We're back to our life but with a better attitude. It was a wonderful trip, all in all. My greatest fear is that I'll never go again -- it was just that good.
Day 1
So far, leaving feels a lot lot every business trip I take, except now I have Tim with me. The first leg is a short one - just to Denver. Once there, we have 2 1/2 hours to kill so we walk around with my overpacked book bag and try to decide on the lowest carb lunch. Finally we just go for what looks good and get a burrito the size of my thigh. Not bad! We walk around some more, looking at the other destinations. Tim raises his eyebrows when I tell him I would throw over Hawaii today for London. Silly me.
We get back on the plane. Looong flight. 7 more hours. Time slips backwards as we wing our way across almost 4,000 miles. By the time we land in Honolulu, we are halfway to Japan and I am as far from home as I have ever been. (But not T, who has been to South Korea and Vietnam). Of course, when we get there, we're too tired to do much more than take a walk down to greet the sea and have a mediocre coffeeshop dinner. Off to bed - 8:30p.
Day 2
Logistically, one of our smartest days. We have breakfast at the Chinese buffet in front of our hotel, the Holiday Inn Waikiki. ( I fervently pray for the food to get better.) The we hop the free shuttle to Hilo Hattie's on Nimitz and enter a Disneyland of Hawaiian souvenirs. $100 lighter --later, we take the (free) shuttle to Aloha Tower to start a walking tour of Chinatown. We delay slightly for rain, then set off. This gives us a chance to take the elevator to the top of the Aloha Tower for a panoramic view of Honolulu.
For whatever reason, we always have an affinity for Asian neighborhoods. I think it's because we like food and their communities have so many exotic offerings and presentations. We pass the lei sellers, fish vendors, fruit and vegetable stalls. I notice there's no apples, oranges or tomatoes anywhere we go. But if you want bananas, pineapple, mango, papaya, guava, breadfruit, lychee, well, this is your place.
We proceed along the walking tour outlined in Frommer's and end up in a plaza, anchored on one end by lots of Chinese men playing cards, dominoes and chess. Some scraggly haole on a bike oozes by and as he passes, he says "Hey, want some Maui Wowie?" Farm Girl turns to Nebraska Boy and says, "Did that guy just offer me drugs?" We later watched a deal go down between himself and a middle aged Chinese guy. We also cut our walking tour short after that. But we did briefly stop to watch as the crew from "Lost" set up to film a bank robbery scene.
Our evening was topped off by a Mai Tai and a Blue Hawaiian poolside at the Hilton Hawaiian Village and the show at the super pool. Then we went to take advantage of a buy one get one free coupon for the very lovely Golden Dragon restaurant --- scallops with eggplant and lemon chicken! The wind kicks up and the rain comes in, running the patio diners inside. Bed at 8:30p.
Day 3
Diamond Head is everywhere in Waikiki. It's even a direction. We wanted to hike it early. We waited 15 minutes on the wrong side of the street for the bus -- and missed it, then another hour for a bus to the park entrance and walked in to the crater. Once there, we bumped in to a family that had gotten tired of waiting for the bus and walked, just over 2.5 miles. They were already hot and tired and hadn't even started the climb!
Up we went, along the narrow, stony and moderately crowded path, through tunnels and up two staircases, through an aging military Fire Control Station and finally, out to the breezy, breathtaking view of the coastline and surrounding city. We shared the moment with 50 sweaty tourists and a half dozen small gray mice that evidently don't mind having lots of guests.
Back to Waikiki for some lunch, which we had at this little subterranean bar and grill called Snapper's. A little time to walk the beach and rest before dressing for dinner on the Navatek. A Chi-chi for me and a Lava Flow for T and dinner of Mahi-Mahi, chicken, salad, potatoes, rice, veggies and rolls, with coconut cake for dessert. The view was wonderful and the show was cute. For our anniversary, T bought us the souvenir picture, which I clung to like it was my child. Yet somehow when we got back to the hotel I realized I didn't have it. Lost it. I called the bus line but they said they couldn't find it. Grrr.
Day 4
Still not up much past 9 and waking at 4:30 a.m. works to our advantage and we get an early start, getting a rental car and heading Ewa (west) to H1 and the North Shore. I drive to allow T to gawk all he wants and I try not to stew about the lost photo. We drive past Schofield Barracks, Dole Plantation and many, many red fields filled with pineapple before cresting a small rise and seeing Haleiwa and the North Shore stretching out before us. We drive through the morning sun and stop outside of Haleiwa where we see surfers darting across the highway. We park and walk out on to a small crescent of beach and for a while I just walk up and down. We are 2 of 4 people on shore. A man in board shorts stands knee deep in the water, riveted by the motion and the waves. Man , do I know how that guy feels! I poke fingers in tidal pools, let the waves lap over my feet and just generally hang loose. We double back to Haleiwa for lunch at the Breakers and a pit stop at the Surf Museum, then shave ice at Matsumoto's, which we eat at Haleiwa Beach Park, while we watch a dark grey raincloud move in and the wind kicks up. Tropical shave ice with tiny red azuki beans and ice cream for him, just guava for me.
We stop a half dozen times at different beaches, including the very famous Sunset Beach. We drive past old sugar mills, roadside sweetcorn stands, shrimp farms and through modest, rural windward Oahu. We wrap up the afternoon with a stop at a Macadamia Nut Outlet near Kualoa Ranch and then a side trip to Nu'uanu Pali Lookout-- the rain finally caught up to us here.
We grabbed an early dinner at Brew Moon for Blackened Ahi and Chili Shrimp and a shrimp and red pepper pizza. Delicious!
Day 5
Up early for a drive across to Waianae and Wild Side Specialty Tours. "Slippers" off, contacts in, I am so ready for this trip! We join another couple and a family of 5 for a 4-hour sail and snorkel. There's nothing I can tell you about this day that can capture it-- the sapphire water, the rugged, empty valleys of the leeward side, the kindness of the crew (Denise and Russell). Then we spot spinner dolphins and, well, it's a hankie moment. We slip quickly in to the water while a larger than normal pod of dolphins speed around us like a slick grey flipper freeway. It's awesome. We watch until they are gone and then take off again. We catch up to another large pod and in we go again. If that is the best experience I ever have in my life, it was enough to justify living. Later, we head for Makaha and I spend what seems like an hour rocking in the water while I watch honu (green sea turtles) a few feet below me in the bay. T and I fight a little seasickness once the adrenaline subsides, for which they deal over candied ginger. Wonderful, sweet with bite -- and it works.
Back on dry land, we head to Eggs N' Things for a brunch of omelets and pancakes with coconut syrup. The rest of the afternoon we walk around Waikiki. It ocurred to me to try to call Navatek Cruises to see if someone might have turned the picture in. T though it was a long shot but I figured if someone did find it, they might turn it in there. 2 minutes after I got on the phone with the ticket office they said someone had found it on the bus earlier in the day and turned it in! Exhausted by dinnertime we opt for an easy meal of Round Table Pizza (Garlic Supreme, yum!) and election returns on TV.
Day 6
Up early yet again, we take the Bus to Pearl Harbor and spend the morning touring the memorial and museum. It is a muted morning, reminding me not only of the losses here but the loss of life on 9/11 as well. By noon, I've had all the sadness I can take and we skip a loosely planned trip to the USS Missouri in favor of the Aloha Stadium Flea Market. Best place for cheap souvenirs! You bet! Also not a bad place for an gyro when you've been walking all morning and it's hot. I swear the stadium has 2 climates -- rainy and cool on one side, blazing hot on the other. Wierd.
We scoot back to the bus depot at HHV to pick up our missing anniversary picture. A smiling Navatek employee walks right up to us and hands over the photo, for which I am still extremely grateful. For dinner, we work some coupon magic and go to Singha Thai where we eat slowly to get the early seating required by the coupon and also get to watch the Royal Thai dancers. I am now officially in love with green curries and I thought T was going to kiss the waitress when his coconut ice cream arrived.
Day 7
A beach day, for the most part, interrupted by a sail on the Atlantis sub. We visit the artificial reefs and see an aquarium's worth of tropical fish and even a small shark. A sleepy looking sea turtle is parked on the fore deck of a sunken fishing vessel. I love the trip but am wishing desperately for more of the candied ginger by the time we board the shuttle boat back to Hilton Hawaiian Village. Once on shore, I collapse like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. I actually doze off on my little bamboo mat in the in-and-out-of-the-clouds sunshine while T hikes up and down the beach, industrious and un-seasick. About an hour later I recover enough to join him and we go on our most ambitious walk, a 3.25 mile round trip along Waikiki and down to the Natatorium. We wander through the Royal Hawaiian and Halekulani like we own the place, then as the sun goes down we have a delicious candlelit dinner at Village Steak and Seafood in HHV.
Day 8
Our last full day, we head to Hanauma Bay for snorkeling, in the rain. By the time we get our gear stowed and head to the beach, the showers are steady, the skies are dull. We head out and I quickly realize that the water is rougher than I anticipated -- I see why 2002 had 12 drownings there. I lose T and that scares me more-- I can only describe the feeling as the same one I had when I once lost the girls at the mall. I finally spot him wading on shore. He is having trouble with his mask and decides he has had enough. He stays mostly on the sidelines for the next 2 hours while I snorkel cautiously, alone. Eventually we decide to give up, since the rain and the increasing number of feet are stirring the water up and making it more difficult to see and enjoy the bounty of tropical fish. We spend a rainy afternoon watching TV and dozing and decide during a break in the weather to walk to Victoria Ward Centers for dinner. The rain reasserts itself just as we arrive and we finally settle on the Big City Diner and a walk through Dave and Buster's before heading home in the toad-choking torrents.
Day 9
We spend a beautiful, sunny morning packing all our treasures away for the ride home and then head to Eggs N'Things for a cocnut syrup fix and down to the beach for a final farewell. We shower just before late check out and have 5 hours to kill, so we walk through the Ilikai (another neighboring hotel) and then head back to HHV and waste much of the afternoon browsing the shops and sitting in the cool, comfortable lobby, watching guests come and go and, later, watching some Marines arrive with their dates for a birthday ball. We have a final dinner at Singha Thai and then back to the Holiday Inn to change to our mainland clothes.
Once at the airport, we just tried to keep each other awake until 10:50 p.m. boarding. Only one night in Hawaii did I stay up past 11 p.m. and that was the night before we headed home. On board, I dozed for an hour or two at a time. I would periodically wake up through the night/morning to see Tim, still wide awake. We arrived home at 1 p.m. KC time -- for 2 days I was so disoriented I couldn't remember what day it was.
Well, that's it. We're back to our life but with a better attitude. It was a wonderful trip, all in all. My greatest fear is that I'll never go again -- it was just that good.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
reunion station
I am by nature, a curious sort. Also, the older I get, the more people I used to know. Periodically I wonder where they went, what happened and how they are now. Each old friend, boyfriend, rival and coworker is like a little station where my train has stopped. Some I could blow by, no problem-- but a few I'd like to revisit now and then.
While floating around in the Pacific, I began mulling over the idea of a virtual reunion for staff at my old college dorm. Over 2 years, there were 10 or 12 of us who worked and played together and I have lost touch with all but one or two. It's not that I have anything to brag about - I'm a plain girl with a second husband, stepkids, critters, a little house and a job I like. Some of them could brag, I'm sure. Very sure, since I know one woman is now a successful government muckity-muck working under John Ashcroft. But I kind of want them to brag. I love happy endings.
This curiosity must explain why I will probably go to my 20 year high school reunion next year, even though I was a high school nobody. I thought I was unpopular but it turns out I was invisible. I discovered this several years ago while working as a marketing manager for a fast food chain. The assistant principal at a high school near one of my restaurants called to ask for a donation. While I was on the phone I asked if he went to OGHS. He said yes (cautiously) and I enthusiastically said we'd gone to school together, graduated together. There were only 115 kids in my class and this one lived on my bus route. We were also in a 12 member swing choir together. He didn't remember me. At all. Oh, ahhhhh, "nevermind" I said, feeling stupid. Nevertheless, I hope to bump in to a few people to which I was not invisible and see how successful the "most likely to succeed" crowd is doing.
Yes, I'm that person who randomly googles your name to see what your up to. (I'm blushing now.)
While floating around in the Pacific, I began mulling over the idea of a virtual reunion for staff at my old college dorm. Over 2 years, there were 10 or 12 of us who worked and played together and I have lost touch with all but one or two. It's not that I have anything to brag about - I'm a plain girl with a second husband, stepkids, critters, a little house and a job I like. Some of them could brag, I'm sure. Very sure, since I know one woman is now a successful government muckity-muck working under John Ashcroft. But I kind of want them to brag. I love happy endings.
This curiosity must explain why I will probably go to my 20 year high school reunion next year, even though I was a high school nobody. I thought I was unpopular but it turns out I was invisible. I discovered this several years ago while working as a marketing manager for a fast food chain. The assistant principal at a high school near one of my restaurants called to ask for a donation. While I was on the phone I asked if he went to OGHS. He said yes (cautiously) and I enthusiastically said we'd gone to school together, graduated together. There were only 115 kids in my class and this one lived on my bus route. We were also in a 12 member swing choir together. He didn't remember me. At all. Oh, ahhhhh, "nevermind" I said, feeling stupid. Nevertheless, I hope to bump in to a few people to which I was not invisible and see how successful the "most likely to succeed" crowd is doing.
Yes, I'm that person who randomly googles your name to see what your up to. (I'm blushing now.)
Monday, November 08, 2004
Life in 360 Degrees
Normally after I come back from a vacation, I get those post vacation blues. The don't-want-to-get-up-and-go-to-work-yet funk. But today I am feeling strangely elated. I mean really, really good. Inexplicably-peaceful-battery-fully-charged-happy.
So, perhaps you are wondering about the title. It is my new motto, words that came to me while I was snorkeling around the leeward side of Oahu, chasing dolphins. While I bobbed around trying not to open my mouth in amazement (sudden intakes of fishy saltwater do not enhance the snorkel experience), this thought popped in to my head. Life is 360 degrees. If you don't turn around, look around once in a while, you might miss something amazing. In my case, as I focused on the spinner dolphins 15-20 yards away, I nearly missed the ones flanking me on the left, perhaps only 15 feet away.
Life is 360 degrees. It's all around us. Don't get me wrong, it's a great thing to be focused, to take the most efficient route from A to B. But it's ok, I think, to be tempted to meander a little. To study the flowers. To gaze in to the sea and be mesmerized. To float above a group of sea turtles and watch them rock in the currents. To count the shades of blue.
Maybe that's what vacations are best for ... reminding us that there's a bigger world than the one we're chasing. Today I will turn to the left and to the right and see what I've been too tired to notice. I will look in to the faces of the people I meet and smile at them. I will let this happiness spill over. I will keep reminding myself of what God told me in the squeaks and clicks of spinner dolphins: "Look all around you, not just at what's before you. Life is 360 degrees."
So, perhaps you are wondering about the title. It is my new motto, words that came to me while I was snorkeling around the leeward side of Oahu, chasing dolphins. While I bobbed around trying not to open my mouth in amazement (sudden intakes of fishy saltwater do not enhance the snorkel experience), this thought popped in to my head. Life is 360 degrees. If you don't turn around, look around once in a while, you might miss something amazing. In my case, as I focused on the spinner dolphins 15-20 yards away, I nearly missed the ones flanking me on the left, perhaps only 15 feet away.
Life is 360 degrees. It's all around us. Don't get me wrong, it's a great thing to be focused, to take the most efficient route from A to B. But it's ok, I think, to be tempted to meander a little. To study the flowers. To gaze in to the sea and be mesmerized. To float above a group of sea turtles and watch them rock in the currents. To count the shades of blue.
Maybe that's what vacations are best for ... reminding us that there's a bigger world than the one we're chasing. Today I will turn to the left and to the right and see what I've been too tired to notice. I will look in to the faces of the people I meet and smile at them. I will let this happiness spill over. I will keep reminding myself of what God told me in the squeaks and clicks of spinner dolphins: "Look all around you, not just at what's before you. Life is 360 degrees."
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Aloha
The time has almost arrived for T and I to head to Hawaii. After having spent so many years wanting to go I now feel strangely ambivalent about it. I think this may be due to the fact that T and I haven't been each other's favorite friend lately. I'm hoping a little South Pacific moonlight might help. Actually, maybe it's just the sleep thing again. Guess there's plenty of time to sleep on the plane tomorrow.
Or maybe I feel guilty about doing something so nice? Like someone said earlier today-- if you've felt you've gotten lots of undeserved blessings it's your job to appreciate them and spread them around. So Thank You, Lord, for such a privilege.
Aloha, Rose
Or maybe I feel guilty about doing something so nice? Like someone said earlier today-- if you've felt you've gotten lots of undeserved blessings it's your job to appreciate them and spread them around. So Thank You, Lord, for such a privilege.
Aloha, Rose
Monday, October 25, 2004
Through a Glass Darkly
I wish I could understand what is wrong with me. No matter what I try to do, apparently I am not a nice person. The depth of feeling I have for my family, friends and God is trapped behind a darkly tinted and soundproof piece of glass that I cannot break.
I would like to say that when I came to know Christ, the glass broke and all this love came pouring out. Maybe for a while it trickled out but then somehow the cracks fused and it dammed up again. All the love and kindness inside is a deep pool of water, flowing and swirling and only visible to those who care enough to press their faces to the glass and look deeply.
What will it take for the glass to shatter and the love to flow? How do I stop the merciless transformation to mean old lady, frozen and frightened and angry, shouting at children from the high window of a dark house?
God grant me the ability to show not only my love but your love as well. Fill me: let me finally be so full that the glass is broken.
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. -- 1 Corinthians 13:12
I would like to say that when I came to know Christ, the glass broke and all this love came pouring out. Maybe for a while it trickled out but then somehow the cracks fused and it dammed up again. All the love and kindness inside is a deep pool of water, flowing and swirling and only visible to those who care enough to press their faces to the glass and look deeply.
What will it take for the glass to shatter and the love to flow? How do I stop the merciless transformation to mean old lady, frozen and frightened and angry, shouting at children from the high window of a dark house?
God grant me the ability to show not only my love but your love as well. Fill me: let me finally be so full that the glass is broken.
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. -- 1 Corinthians 13:12
Monday, October 18, 2004
Vote-B-Gone(tm)
Do you vote?
It's easy to forget, as I sit here today, that in 1917, women went to jail for me. They endured beatings, squalid living conditions, vermin-infested food, force feedings and more because they wanted me to have the freedom to vote. My own grandmother was born into a world where half of the population was forbidden to cast a ballot.
Easy, too, to not think too much about the "religious persecution" that brought the pilgrims here in the first place. The fact that for centuries Catholics and protestants burned, maimed, tortured and murdered one another because one group or another was out of favor of the king or queen doesn't have real meaning for American voters -- even though it should.
Forget the American Revolution -- almost everyone else has. Do you remember anything about the Quartering Act of 1774, the Stamp Act, the Boston Massacre? I stood on a ship in Boston Harbor and tried to wrap my mind around what had been bought for me with blood and sacrifice and I finally got it, just a little bit. But that was years ago.
I drove through Philadelphia Mississippi and I thought about the horrors endured by Civil Rights protesters of the 1960s. I stood in front of the Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery, Alabama and contemplated each name and date on the black marble. And I wonder now if we have distilled the essence and the message of Martin Luther King Jr. into just another bank holiday.
The thousands of men and women who died in war are just another historical footnote while we sit, fat, dumb and happy, flipping channels and opting out of our sacred duty to choose a representative government. Certain young people in my life inform me in an offhand way that they don't plan to vote because "they're just not interested". The 2000 election expected 19 million evangelical Christians to vote - but four million of them sat out the third closest presidential election in history.
We bat the word freedom around a lot these days and hopefully it isn't losing its context. Freedom to me means that as I cast my ballot this year, it has a significance that people in Iraq, Afghanistan, most of Africa, the Middle East and Asia can only dream of. It's not just my right to go and physically cast my ballot without coming to harm. It's the power of the paper -- that my vote does dictate to an elected official what I want my country to be, how I want to live and what legacy I'd like to leave. It's the sole reason why immigrants flood our borders, why people love us, hate us, envy us and sometimes wish they were us.
November 2 is my President's Day, Martin Luther King Day, Veteran's Day, Fourth of July, Patriot's Day and Women's Equality Day all rolled into one. As the ballot passes from my hands and on to the electoral college, I will not forget how it got there.
It's easy to forget, as I sit here today, that in 1917, women went to jail for me. They endured beatings, squalid living conditions, vermin-infested food, force feedings and more because they wanted me to have the freedom to vote. My own grandmother was born into a world where half of the population was forbidden to cast a ballot.
Easy, too, to not think too much about the "religious persecution" that brought the pilgrims here in the first place. The fact that for centuries Catholics and protestants burned, maimed, tortured and murdered one another because one group or another was out of favor of the king or queen doesn't have real meaning for American voters -- even though it should.
Forget the American Revolution -- almost everyone else has. Do you remember anything about the Quartering Act of 1774, the Stamp Act, the Boston Massacre? I stood on a ship in Boston Harbor and tried to wrap my mind around what had been bought for me with blood and sacrifice and I finally got it, just a little bit. But that was years ago.
I drove through Philadelphia Mississippi and I thought about the horrors endured by Civil Rights protesters of the 1960s. I stood in front of the Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery, Alabama and contemplated each name and date on the black marble. And I wonder now if we have distilled the essence and the message of Martin Luther King Jr. into just another bank holiday.
The thousands of men and women who died in war are just another historical footnote while we sit, fat, dumb and happy, flipping channels and opting out of our sacred duty to choose a representative government. Certain young people in my life inform me in an offhand way that they don't plan to vote because "they're just not interested". The 2000 election expected 19 million evangelical Christians to vote - but four million of them sat out the third closest presidential election in history.
We bat the word freedom around a lot these days and hopefully it isn't losing its context. Freedom to me means that as I cast my ballot this year, it has a significance that people in Iraq, Afghanistan, most of Africa, the Middle East and Asia can only dream of. It's not just my right to go and physically cast my ballot without coming to harm. It's the power of the paper -- that my vote does dictate to an elected official what I want my country to be, how I want to live and what legacy I'd like to leave. It's the sole reason why immigrants flood our borders, why people love us, hate us, envy us and sometimes wish they were us.
November 2 is my President's Day, Martin Luther King Day, Veteran's Day, Fourth of July, Patriot's Day and Women's Equality Day all rolled into one. As the ballot passes from my hands and on to the electoral college, I will not forget how it got there.
Friday, October 15, 2004
A few roses, a few random thoughts
I'm happy because it's the end of a very long week and tomorrow I get to sleep.
I also got to sit down for a short period of time and watch TV last night, a past time which has long ago passed in to luxury status from everyday habit status.
K actually cooked her first full meal last night - I showed her how to grill pork chops and she nuked potatoes and made salad. She isn't ready for the CIA (Culinary version, not undercover spy version) yet but at least I know she won't starve when she grows up. T and I ran around getting all our camping chores and house chores done while she cooked so we could all bug out for the weekend.
Hawaii is just 2 weeks away!
Whatever happened to equal representation? My absentee ballot is loaded with candidates of a certain party -- all running unopposed. If I knew how to go about it the right way, I might actually consider running myself. I'm sick of not having a voice in state government!
Whew, I feel better now!
Oh, here's a few roses...
The "Not Your Typical Top 40" Award: For Chris Thile, who has just released another CD, "Deceiver". I just love variety: country, roots, newgrass, bluegrass, alternative, Christian contemporary, blues... Chris is part of one of my favorite bands, Nickel Creek. New material from any member of the band is always welcome in my CD player!
The "Cool Remerchandising" Award: To the Hampton Inn, which has remerchandised every part of their hotel from the signage ("Smile") in the elevator to the soap wrapper. Not to mention, they finally made shower that are spacious enough that the shower curtain doesn't stick to your leg while you bathe.
The "Instantly Much Better, thanks" Award: I have never shelled out for expensive makeup for myself but I had to try something drastic when I developed a dry, itchy rash from my nose to the outside of my mouth. I ran in to Aveda and they sent me out with 3 products that have instantly improved my skin. My makeup is lighter, the rash is almost gone and my skin looks and feels healthier. I learned a long time ago that cheap shampoo is a mistake and for some people, I guess cheap makeup is too.
I also got to sit down for a short period of time and watch TV last night, a past time which has long ago passed in to luxury status from everyday habit status.
K actually cooked her first full meal last night - I showed her how to grill pork chops and she nuked potatoes and made salad. She isn't ready for the CIA (Culinary version, not undercover spy version) yet but at least I know she won't starve when she grows up. T and I ran around getting all our camping chores and house chores done while she cooked so we could all bug out for the weekend.
Hawaii is just 2 weeks away!
Whatever happened to equal representation? My absentee ballot is loaded with candidates of a certain party -- all running unopposed. If I knew how to go about it the right way, I might actually consider running myself. I'm sick of not having a voice in state government!
Whew, I feel better now!
Oh, here's a few roses...
The "Not Your Typical Top 40" Award: For Chris Thile, who has just released another CD, "Deceiver". I just love variety: country, roots, newgrass, bluegrass, alternative, Christian contemporary, blues... Chris is part of one of my favorite bands, Nickel Creek. New material from any member of the band is always welcome in my CD player!
The "Cool Remerchandising" Award: To the Hampton Inn, which has remerchandised every part of their hotel from the signage ("Smile") in the elevator to the soap wrapper. Not to mention, they finally made shower that are spacious enough that the shower curtain doesn't stick to your leg while you bathe.
The "Instantly Much Better, thanks" Award: I have never shelled out for expensive makeup for myself but I had to try something drastic when I developed a dry, itchy rash from my nose to the outside of my mouth. I ran in to Aveda and they sent me out with 3 products that have instantly improved my skin. My makeup is lighter, the rash is almost gone and my skin looks and feels healthier. I learned a long time ago that cheap shampoo is a mistake and for some people, I guess cheap makeup is too.
Monday, October 11, 2004
There and Back Again
I'm back from the road. I love being out and I love coming back. Like Bilbo, I love a little adventure but it's comforting to come home to my little hobbit hole for a nice cup of tea.
I really enjoy people watching and people watching in airports is like the Olympic level of human observation. I had a lot of fun watching a stylish and zealous guy who was working at a burrito stand in O'Hare. He was one of those guys who works fast, friendly and with a patented patter. You couldn't help but smile at him, even when the cashiers were three times as slow and not nearly so nice.
Also at ORD, some lady actually called me honey and put her hand on my shoulder. I don't even remember why she did it but after a week of very little physical contact (other than the grip-n-grin sessions at business meetings) it was sort of nice. Comforting.
While at one of my meetings I was intrigued by the fringe people (of which I am one) -- those people who don't know how to gracefully insinuate themselves in to a conversations with customers and so instead choose to hang out at the fringes of the party, nursing a drink and passing the time. Some people do this with great grace. Some even begin chatting with other fringe people, thereby becoming un-fringe-y. (But we're all always relieved when our coworkers finally show up).
Also, I found out that if you laugh a lot and blush a little while you're getting the post 9-11 security patdown, security workers really appreciate your good humor. I am now best friends with some security workers in the Nashville airport and told them so. Heck, with that degree of intimacy we're probably engaged in some countries. I like that I was able to make them laugh a little -- I'm sure they get ragged on for most of the day and don't expect someone to have a sense of humor about getting felt up in a public place.
In a time where people are so accustomed to and prepared for people to be unkind or at the very most, aloof, I see there's still a lot of warmth and generosity out there. Cheerful bus drivers, polite passers-by, friendly customer service agents, genuinely nice fellow travelers. Makes the trip there and back again just a little bit better.
I really enjoy people watching and people watching in airports is like the Olympic level of human observation. I had a lot of fun watching a stylish and zealous guy who was working at a burrito stand in O'Hare. He was one of those guys who works fast, friendly and with a patented patter. You couldn't help but smile at him, even when the cashiers were three times as slow and not nearly so nice.
Also at ORD, some lady actually called me honey and put her hand on my shoulder. I don't even remember why she did it but after a week of very little physical contact (other than the grip-n-grin sessions at business meetings) it was sort of nice. Comforting.
While at one of my meetings I was intrigued by the fringe people (of which I am one) -- those people who don't know how to gracefully insinuate themselves in to a conversations with customers and so instead choose to hang out at the fringes of the party, nursing a drink and passing the time. Some people do this with great grace. Some even begin chatting with other fringe people, thereby becoming un-fringe-y. (But we're all always relieved when our coworkers finally show up).
Also, I found out that if you laugh a lot and blush a little while you're getting the post 9-11 security patdown, security workers really appreciate your good humor. I am now best friends with some security workers in the Nashville airport and told them so. Heck, with that degree of intimacy we're probably engaged in some countries. I like that I was able to make them laugh a little -- I'm sure they get ragged on for most of the day and don't expect someone to have a sense of humor about getting felt up in a public place.
In a time where people are so accustomed to and prepared for people to be unkind or at the very most, aloof, I see there's still a lot of warmth and generosity out there. Cheerful bus drivers, polite passers-by, friendly customer service agents, genuinely nice fellow travelers. Makes the trip there and back again just a little bit better.
Poem from the Road
I slide away from your sleep foggy shore
banked in blankets, slipping back to sleep
as I ease into the navy dawn and drive away.
At the airport, steam and smoke is
wisping upward toward the peachy dawn and
sleepy faces are lining up for morning coffee and bread.
I'm traveling onward to another city but I'm
drifting in and out of orchid-scented dreams
where the trip is taken hand in hand with you, out to the sea.
I lose all sense of time out here, and sense of self
is lost as well -- I tuck neatly into a ticket folder or
hang upon a borrowed hanger, until it's time to come back home.
banked in blankets, slipping back to sleep
as I ease into the navy dawn and drive away.
At the airport, steam and smoke is
wisping upward toward the peachy dawn and
sleepy faces are lining up for morning coffee and bread.
I'm traveling onward to another city but I'm
drifting in and out of orchid-scented dreams
where the trip is taken hand in hand with you, out to the sea.
I lose all sense of time out here, and sense of self
is lost as well -- I tuck neatly into a ticket folder or
hang upon a borrowed hanger, until it's time to come back home.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Most Boring Blog on Earth?
In the last 24 hours I have:
1) eaten Mongolian BBQ with my coworkers
2) had an argument with my teenager
3) received tolerance and (almost) sympathy from my husband
4) watched the Presidential debate
5) watched and accordingly, yelled at/cheered, Survivor
6) eaten 2 filled donuts
7) found out my eldest stepdaughter is registering to vote for Bush
8) scammed free tickets to the Renaissance Festival
9) folded a load of laundry
10) turned my calendar over to October
In my world, any of these topics are ripe for the blogging. In the big, scary, outside world, they probably wouldn't be very inspiring to anyone else, to write about or to read. Some guy whose blog I recently skimmed commented that the most boring blogs on earth are those written by generally happy married women -- this sin of boredom is further enhanced by any mention of children and overt references to Jesus or God.
Guess that makes me guilty on all counts.
Well, I don't care! It's my blog and I'll be dull as dirt if I want to. I have decided that in my life, excitement always seems to equate with bad luck anyway. As in, "Yeah, Jim Bob and I were over at the tavern and there was a little excitement (full on brawl that ended in stitches and multiple arrests)." Or, "I don't know what you're getting so excited (really, royally, pi$$ed) about." I don't want any more excitement in my life. Maybe ever. I would like an "I'm-pleasantly-bored-out-of-my-skull-but-I-have-plenty-of-time-for-crafts" life. A "I'll-be-shopping-all-the-grocery-stores-for-the-best-deals-just-because-I-can" life. Some of my friends have been having some excitement in their lives lately... a co-worker/good friend lost a truck, boat and probably his home in Hurricane Ivan. He and his wife found a 4 day dead jellyfish in a bedroom closet. They've had to throw out every carefully-selected-to-match-the wallpaper-accent-pillow and every save-up-for-something-really-nice appliance they had. Beds, bows, tupperware, shoes, TVs, deep freeze full of food, you name it-- all ruined by 3 feet of sewage and seawater. See? Who needs excitement?
Maybe some people read blogs because they're a cheap soap-opera substitute. I personally like to read blogs with pretty pictures (something I haven't quite mastered myself) and really good writing. Not just clever writing -- there are a lot of people in the blogosphere that fancy themselves smarter and funnier than they are-- but real writing, thoughtful, perceptive and intelligent.
I personally think the most boring blog in the world is one that, like the person it's hiding, tries to be something it's not. I'll do my best to blog the real me -- in all my confused, self-centered, whiny, frank and silly glory. From my counter, it looks like I won't be boring too many people anyway.
1) eaten Mongolian BBQ with my coworkers
2) had an argument with my teenager
3) received tolerance and (almost) sympathy from my husband
4) watched the Presidential debate
5) watched and accordingly, yelled at/cheered, Survivor
6) eaten 2 filled donuts
7) found out my eldest stepdaughter is registering to vote for Bush
8) scammed free tickets to the Renaissance Festival
9) folded a load of laundry
10) turned my calendar over to October
In my world, any of these topics are ripe for the blogging. In the big, scary, outside world, they probably wouldn't be very inspiring to anyone else, to write about or to read. Some guy whose blog I recently skimmed commented that the most boring blogs on earth are those written by generally happy married women -- this sin of boredom is further enhanced by any mention of children and overt references to Jesus or God.
Guess that makes me guilty on all counts.
Well, I don't care! It's my blog and I'll be dull as dirt if I want to. I have decided that in my life, excitement always seems to equate with bad luck anyway. As in, "Yeah, Jim Bob and I were over at the tavern and there was a little excitement (full on brawl that ended in stitches and multiple arrests)." Or, "I don't know what you're getting so excited (really, royally, pi$$ed) about." I don't want any more excitement in my life. Maybe ever. I would like an "I'm-pleasantly-bored-out-of-my-skull-but-I-have-plenty-of-time-for-crafts" life. A "I'll-be-shopping-all-the-grocery-stores-for-the-best-deals-just-because-I-can" life. Some of my friends have been having some excitement in their lives lately... a co-worker/good friend lost a truck, boat and probably his home in Hurricane Ivan. He and his wife found a 4 day dead jellyfish in a bedroom closet. They've had to throw out every carefully-selected-to-match-the wallpaper-accent-pillow and every save-up-for-something-really-nice appliance they had. Beds, bows, tupperware, shoes, TVs, deep freeze full of food, you name it-- all ruined by 3 feet of sewage and seawater. See? Who needs excitement?
Maybe some people read blogs because they're a cheap soap-opera substitute. I personally like to read blogs with pretty pictures (something I haven't quite mastered myself) and really good writing. Not just clever writing -- there are a lot of people in the blogosphere that fancy themselves smarter and funnier than they are-- but real writing, thoughtful, perceptive and intelligent.
I personally think the most boring blog in the world is one that, like the person it's hiding, tries to be something it's not. I'll do my best to blog the real me -- in all my confused, self-centered, whiny, frank and silly glory. From my counter, it looks like I won't be boring too many people anyway.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
In Dreams
"To sleep, perchance to dream
-ay, there's the rub."
--From Hamlet (III, i, 65-68)
The dreams have started.
Anxiety has a lot of different ways of expressing itself and mine comes at night. Yesterday morning I caught some footage of an air show crash on GMA and thought, naturally, of my stepdad. Last night I dreamed that he survived his 1989 single-plane crash only to become old, broken and bedridden by his heart problems. I saw him dying in a hospital somewhere -- I stood next to the bed and watched him suffer the death he might have had if he hadn't wrecked that Piper Cub. Even in waking, I can see his ravaged face in a sickly orange light.
After another late night with K and her overdue history project, I also dreamed I was back in college, doing my RA thing (my alma mater now calls them now CAs and PAs) and still trying to take care of my chronically ill cat. When I decided to go home for the weekend, I called to her and she tried to walk to me but she as she came toward me she was wobbling and falling over, meowing pitifully with each shaking step. In my dream I started screaming "Yasha Na!" "Yasha Na!" (see yesterday's entry).
At least I was spared the "finals-week-and-I-never-went-to-class-and-now-there's-a-test" dream. Or the "I'm-at-work-and-oops-I-have-no-clothes-on" dream.
But in case I thought I was the only one, K had a pretty rough night too. To spare her pride, I won't go in to detail. Suffice to say she didn't exactly wake rested and refreshed, either. Would that we both had the blessing that T has -- the sleep of the undisturbed. Nothing more aggrevating than lying awake next to a racked-out man who doesn't even have the decency to break his snoring pattern while I'm flopping around like a trout out of water.
TROILUS
To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses
As infants' empty of all thought!
CRESSIDA
Good morrow, then.
TROILUS
I prithee now, to bed.
-- Troilus and Cressida, Act IV, Scene II
If this makes no sense, consider it a product of sleep deprivation.
-ay, there's the rub."
--From Hamlet (III, i, 65-68)
The dreams have started.
Anxiety has a lot of different ways of expressing itself and mine comes at night. Yesterday morning I caught some footage of an air show crash on GMA and thought, naturally, of my stepdad. Last night I dreamed that he survived his 1989 single-plane crash only to become old, broken and bedridden by his heart problems. I saw him dying in a hospital somewhere -- I stood next to the bed and watched him suffer the death he might have had if he hadn't wrecked that Piper Cub. Even in waking, I can see his ravaged face in a sickly orange light.
After another late night with K and her overdue history project, I also dreamed I was back in college, doing my RA thing (my alma mater now calls them now CAs and PAs) and still trying to take care of my chronically ill cat. When I decided to go home for the weekend, I called to her and she tried to walk to me but she as she came toward me she was wobbling and falling over, meowing pitifully with each shaking step. In my dream I started screaming "Yasha Na!" "Yasha Na!" (see yesterday's entry).
At least I was spared the "finals-week-and-I-never-went-to-class-and-now-there's-a-test" dream. Or the "I'm-at-work-and-oops-I-have-no-clothes-on" dream.
But in case I thought I was the only one, K had a pretty rough night too. To spare her pride, I won't go in to detail. Suffice to say she didn't exactly wake rested and refreshed, either. Would that we both had the blessing that T has -- the sleep of the undisturbed. Nothing more aggrevating than lying awake next to a racked-out man who doesn't even have the decency to break his snoring pattern while I'm flopping around like a trout out of water.
TROILUS
To bed, to bed: sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses
As infants' empty of all thought!
CRESSIDA
Good morrow, then.
TROILUS
I prithee now, to bed.
-- Troilus and Cressida, Act IV, Scene II
If this makes no sense, consider it a product of sleep deprivation.
Monday, September 27, 2004
Quote, Endquote
Travel is ninety percent anticipation and ten percent recollection.
- Edward Streeter
I'm finally letting myself think about our vacation. We head to Hawaii on October 29, the day of our 10th anniversary. I can't imagine much past boarding the plane and my first toes-digging-in-sand moment on Waikiki -- but I'm trying. I imagine myself flying with a small tote that contains some snacks, my book and a magazine or two. It is not a briefcase and does not weigh 15 pounds. I know we'll be going on a dolphin encounter, too. Beyond that, this trip is a blank slate.
Let Go and Let God
I can't attribute that quote but I sure need to yield to it. Between K's procrastination, T's ongoing health issues and my lack of enthusiasm for cleaning toilets, I didn't have a very relaxing Sunday. I know I am bringing it upon myself - no one designated me head cattle dog. But still I find myself nipping at heels a hundred times a day. And I am becoming a little tired and a little resentful. I need to learn to leave them to the head Cowboy.
She's a girl with the weight of the world on her big brown eyes
She's a girl who's been talking to herself to apologize
She'll never do it again she promised
But then she hasn't been all that honest
Can she trust herself to be herself
Or is she talking to herself again
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around...
-Switchfoot
I hate Mondays. And I am ashamed that I am not the person I so want to be. Kind, understanding, patient. I get up, I fall down. I get up...
If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?
- Steven Wright
OK, this made me laugh. I have 2 cats and a loaf of bread. Wonder what could be accomplished here? And for whatever reason, now I'm thinking of cinnamon toast, minus the cat hair.
Yasha Na
Victory Now. Not next month, next week, tomorrow or even in two hours. Pastor Jeff preached on this subject yesterday. How long before we stand up and take back that which belongs to us? As frustrated as I was this morning, I decided to try it. I said it quietly, then a bit louder, just trying it out. Finally I yelled it (I love entertaining my fellow traffic jam-ees at 8 a.m.). You know, I did feel better. I'm going to keep saying it. Yasha Na! Victory NOW!
The best time for planning a book is while you're doing the dishes.
-Agatha Christie
There's still hope. I might be the Grandma Moses of fiction writers.
- Edward Streeter
I'm finally letting myself think about our vacation. We head to Hawaii on October 29, the day of our 10th anniversary. I can't imagine much past boarding the plane and my first toes-digging-in-sand moment on Waikiki -- but I'm trying. I imagine myself flying with a small tote that contains some snacks, my book and a magazine or two. It is not a briefcase and does not weigh 15 pounds. I know we'll be going on a dolphin encounter, too. Beyond that, this trip is a blank slate.
Let Go and Let God
I can't attribute that quote but I sure need to yield to it. Between K's procrastination, T's ongoing health issues and my lack of enthusiasm for cleaning toilets, I didn't have a very relaxing Sunday. I know I am bringing it upon myself - no one designated me head cattle dog. But still I find myself nipping at heels a hundred times a day. And I am becoming a little tired and a little resentful. I need to learn to leave them to the head Cowboy.
She's a girl with the weight of the world on her big brown eyes
She's a girl who's been talking to herself to apologize
She'll never do it again she promised
But then she hasn't been all that honest
Can she trust herself to be herself
Or is she talking to herself again
Hey Friday what you gonna do now
When Monday comes around...
-Switchfoot
I hate Mondays. And I am ashamed that I am not the person I so want to be. Kind, understanding, patient. I get up, I fall down. I get up...
If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?
- Steven Wright
OK, this made me laugh. I have 2 cats and a loaf of bread. Wonder what could be accomplished here? And for whatever reason, now I'm thinking of cinnamon toast, minus the cat hair.
Yasha Na
Victory Now. Not next month, next week, tomorrow or even in two hours. Pastor Jeff preached on this subject yesterday. How long before we stand up and take back that which belongs to us? As frustrated as I was this morning, I decided to try it. I said it quietly, then a bit louder, just trying it out. Finally I yelled it (I love entertaining my fellow traffic jam-ees at 8 a.m.). You know, I did feel better. I'm going to keep saying it. Yasha Na! Victory NOW!
The best time for planning a book is while you're doing the dishes.
-Agatha Christie
There's still hope. I might be the Grandma Moses of fiction writers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
