jennethink

POST-A-DAY PACT COMES TO AN END

31 days ago I decided I would post at least once a day for thirty one days. Since then I have done just that. I have posted – something – every day this month. Big whoop-dee-do.

 

I'm not sure why I decided 31 days ago to post every day. Maybe because I wanted a challenge. Maybe because I was hoping to trigger readership. Maybe because I was hoping to get into a routine and the daily posting habit would carry on long past January. Maybe because I ran pell-mell into the idea and didn't think it through – well, yes, we can be sure of that. But I know I was hoping that by setting a goal for myself of writing every day I would get back into the glow and rhythm of regular insight that comes with writing.

 

A number of years ago, when I was going through my divorce, I would write every day. I was truly amazed at what came out in those exercises. The frustration, the memories, the tears and the insight. I can remember more than once feeling like I had gone into some sort of trance and came out on the other side with an insight so rich and delicious I would in that moment, and for a good 10 minutes afterwards, believe the huge awful pain and mess of my divorce was actually worth it.

 

I'm proud of myself for posting every day. It wasn't always easy. Some posts were simple. Some post were intense. Some posts were a little lame. But I did it. And in the end, I did have some insights. I learned it takes me a few days of letting my thoughts run around carelessly in my head before I'm ready to put them on paper. I learned I prefer to say something personally compelling or discerning to just writing to write. I learned the more I post, the less people comment. I learned it's easier to write when you have some sort of restriction (writing 100 words a day about donuts, for example, would be easier than writing any amount at all about anything at all). I learned my self-imposed expectations are so much higher than anyone else's of me – well I sort of already knew that one. I learned if I don't start writing a post before noon, I end up scrambling to find something to write about near the end of the day. I learned a lot.

 

And I learned it takes me longer than 31 days to set a habit in place.

 

I'm taking tomorrow off.

25 RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME

Okay so I keep getting picked by people on facebook to do this. As I've stated before, I don't as a rule participate in these things but what the heck, it's Friday. The rules are: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. We all know I won't be doing the tagging part.

 

Anyway, here goes … 25 random things, facts, habits or goals about me

 

1. I don't like the word "things"
2. I never ate pizza until I was a sophomore in college
3. I only have one functioning kidney
4. I love bracelets but rarely wear them
5. My hair used to be straight but now is curly (thank you, Chemo!)
6. I can't imagine why anyone would find a list like this remotely interesting
7. I can do the world's greatest orangutan impression
8. I pronounce the word porcupine "porky-pine". And up until recently thought it was correct
9. I often learn new words by reading them somewhere and figuring out their meaning. I then use those words in sentences and more often than not completely foul up the pronunciation. You should have heard me say misogynist for the first time out loud in a group of people.
10. I used to be allergic to the sun but now tan without much effort (again, thanks to Chemo … man, I don't know what I was complaining about all those months. Chemo rules!)
11. I think I would have made a great astronaut
12. I habitually bite the inside of my cheeks (face cheeks)
13. I won't eat a burger without cutting it in half first
14. I don't let my lips touch a fork
15. My sister and I plan to climb Mount Kilimanjaro next year
16. I ran with the bulls in Pamplona in 2007 (Look, I know everyone knows that already but I figure if this list somehow ends up as something that defines me I want to make sure that's in there because it was cool as dinky!)
17. I love really bad reality TV
18. I use way too many q-tips
19. I'm afraid of bridges
20. I get my energy from being alone
21. I sleep with my head under the covers
22. I can play clarinet, oboe, and xylophone. I also won first in state on the marimba.
23. On my mom's side I'm related to Catherine Howard who was the 5^th wife to King Henry VIII and was eventually beheaded
24. On my dad's side I'm related to Harriet Beecher Stowe (author of Uncle Tom's Cabin) and Henry Ward Beecher (famous author, preacher and abolitionist)
25. I love houndstooth
26. I have a hard time following rules

OPEN LETTER TO KATIE, THE 12 CENT GOLDFISH WHO ALWAYS BRIGHTED MY DAY WITH HER FUNNY VROOM VROOM SWIMMING AND NEVER CAUSED ANYBODY ANY PROBLEMS

You were a good fish.

I'll miss you.

 

 

Love,

Jenne

DAY IN THE LIFE

Slept well

Worked on proposal (for work, not marriage)

Talked to clients

Brianstormed ideas for upcoming session on "dealing with difficult people"

Had lunch with The Hub

Spent afternoon working with 13 entrepreneurs

Gulped down dinner (avocado sandwich) while changing into workout gear

Spin class for 90 minutes (90 minutes!)

Printed boarding pass

Wrote quick post

Sighed deeply.

 

Good day.

4X4X4

Big thanks to Average Jane for this idea, she pulled it from Inventing My Life. It's called 4x4x4 and I don't usually participate in these type of things but this sounded fun.

The rules of the game:

1. Go to the 4th folder where you keep your pictures on your computer.

2. Post the 4th picture in the folder.

3. Explain the photo.

4. Tag 4 fellow bloggers to join in the fun!

Well, first, I should re-name this 4x4xi-hate-that-pyramid-scheme-type-crap-of-tagging-a-bunch-of-people-to-do-stuff. But let's face it, that title is a little long, even for me. So I'm taking the first 3 rules and following them to a "T" … the last rule I'm breaking by not following it at all. Shocker. But if you read this and you'd like to do the same in your blog – dandy. Have at it. Consider yourself "tagged".

Here we go …

4^th folder "2008-3-15" (now here is something interesting already … I recently took all of the pictures off of my computer. Since then, I've uploaded photos a few times so I assumed the picture and folder would be quite recent. However, when I was looking through old photos I noticed I was missing a bunch from March of 2008. So I emailed The Hub and asked him so send me any of the photos he had from that time. He did. And that's the 4^th folder. Okay, maybe it wasn't that interesting.)

And the 4^th picture issssssssssss…..

Oh I'm just so happy how this is working out. There is much much much to love about this photo. And how lucky we are that this photo of The Hub and his MeeMom is our 4x4 picture! I mean let's face it, it is very likely the picture would have been a shot of me doing the puss-face thing (my friend, Kristy calls this the butt-hole mouth). I seem to be making that a lot lately.

 

(Seriously, why am I doing that?)

An … y … Way …

Let me explain the 4x4 picture above. It was taken at Easter last year out on the back deck of The Hub's Aunt and Uncle's house. I always love spending time with his family. The Hub heritage is a delightful mixture of Latvian and Italian. Which basically means he get furious with you (Whatsamattawityou anyway? Huh?) but stuffs it way down deep inside (no no, that's okay, don't worry about him, no no, he can take it) It also means he can eat a lot (that comes from both sides). This past Easter was spent with his dad's side of the family … the Latvians. Oh, I love me some Latvians! They are good cooks, and wonderful story-tellers and since they are so repressed you never know if anyone is upset with you or not. Perfect! AND, even better, they are rich with tradition. And one old Latvian tradition is having egg-fights after the Easter meal (and buddy, if you think Italians can eat, you should see what the Lats do to a pig, a turkey and a banana cake). When The Egg Fights were first explained to me, I assumed it was a pretty straight forward game involving a lot of luck. Basically you pick an egg which has been previously hard-boiled and colored. Once you choose your "fighter" ( and there is a whole huge basket of them to choose from) you are paired up with another family member. Then you face off, grab your eggs and on the count of three, slam them into each other. Whoever's egg cracks, that's the loser. Seems simple but of course, it gets much more complicated … losers go into a loser's round, winners go forward into the winner's round, losers fight again with the backside (unbroken side of the egg), winners keep crashing their eggs into each other until there is an ultimate winner. A single solitary egg that is intact and lovely. MeeMom told us that when she was a kid, if she had a really good, strong egg, she used to go house to house and challenge other families to a fight. Ha! Man, that cracks me up! It's such a pure, fun, wholesome family tradition. Clean. Simple.

At least that's how it SHOULD be. What you don't know .. and what I certainly didn't know the first time I participated in this lovely event … is that The Hub's MeeMom likes to slip a few colored but RAW eggs into the basket. And there really isn't any way to tell if your egg is cooked or not. What this means is you get geared up for a fight, take your place, count to three and then WHAMMO you're covered in egg juice. All the while, MeeMom stands there and giggles. She's a stinker.

Some other pictures from the same folder … which I know is technically against the rules but ohhh wellllll…………

Man, I love this family.

DEGREES OF SEPARATION

Everyone who lives in Missouri has heard that old joke "if you don't like the weather – stick around". That has never been more true than in the past few weeks. Here in the heartland we've had 40+ drops in the temp in just a matter of hours multiple times. One evening The Hub and I went for a run in shorts, long-sleeved t-shirts and mittens – but WITHOUT hats, coats, long-johns and scarves the way we had been running. It was a glorious run – the temp was bouncing around 60 degrees even after the sun was down and it felt like spring was right around the next corner. Actually what was around the next corner was a blast of cold air. It hit me like a kick in the teeth and I said out loud (okay, panted out loud) … well, here comes winter again… and by the time we got home, the temp had dropped about 15 degrees. The next morning there was snow on the ground and my eyelids nearly froze together when I went outside.

 

It's frustrating. Frustrating when you don't know how to dress or plan or prepare. I feel badly for the weather forecasters around here because I think they are just blindsided half of the time.

 

I've known people in my life who are like the weather in Missouri. Hot one moment, cold the next and going back and forth without warning. Unpredictable. Irregular. Volatile. It's frustrating. And, if I were being honest, I'd have to confess I have problems with this myself. I experience times when I'm up, happy and silly and then, just like that, I'm down. I rarely get angry but I do get upset, distressed, sad. And, sometimes, irritable. Truthfully, I don't ever want to lose those extremes because I think it add characters to my character. I don't want to be steady Eddie, mellow yellow or just "take it as it comes jenne" but I think I do need to learn how to be a tiny bit more predictable. I think it should be easier for people who love me to forecast my moods. I don't think people I care about should go for a run with me, take a corner and get kicked in the teeth by my attitude.

 

Then again, maybe that's just their problem. Geez. Lay off me already.

IF YOU’RE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT, DON’T GO TO THE THEATER

A couple years ago I was looking for a birthday card for a friend and came to the conclusion there are no good cards left. Not just in that store, anywhere. I don't think anyone, anywhere is making good happy birthday (or any day) cards. I guess this makes sense, in some ways, as the greeting card industry has been around for quite awhile … maybe they are just out of steam.

 

Then again, music has been around quite awhile too and I still seem to hear new songs I like.

 

I just think it is tough to come up with anything new. Anything that is new, unique, touching, heartwarming, endearing and feel-good. Rough, sarcastic and horrible are easy … it's the feel-good that's difficult.

 

It's the same with movies. I've seen a lot of movies since Christmas. A. Lot. And I can't really think of any that would qualify as "feel-good". I've seen 3 Nazi movies (tough break trying to get a feel good out of that), 2 guy getting old and feeling out of touch and lonely movies (only one of which was good), 5 movies where the main character dies at the end (well, 6 – wait, 7 actually). A sexual predator accusation movie, an end of the world movie, a movie about a corrupt president and an incredibly complicated, involved, difficult little flick about a mouse. The only movie, actually, that I would say was a feel good movie was Slumdog Millionaire. That movie rocked – but even it had some difficult scenes – that's for sure.

 

I guess I don't understand why it is so hard to make a happy movie – I don't really mean a comedy – just a happy movie. I like the other stuff too. Very much, but man – I could use a good old dose of ….

 

I don't know. Something.

 

(clearly I won't be getting a job at Hallmark)

 

WHERE TO FROM HERE?

I posted recently about someone who has a blog about her cancer experience who sent me an email to let me know she was going to include me on her blogroll. I, for the life of me, can't remember who it was or I would oblige and include a link to her here. I'll trust the favor will be returned to her in some other way. Anyhoo … I may not remember WHO she was but I certainly remember something she said. In her email she stated she was putting me in the "BlogHer" category of her blogroll since (and this is a direct quote, the caps and astonishment are mine) "your blog ISN'T A CANCER BLOG".

 

Wow. I'm still amazed by that statement. Your blog isn't a cancer blog.

 

I can remember not too long ago thinking cancer was all I talked about. I can remember not too long ago thinking cancer was all I thought about. And truthfully, I've purposefully curtailed my cancer writing because I think my grace period is up for that topic. But I want you to know something, regardless of how often I write about it, or talk about it, or even think about it… I still FEEL encompassed by it. Like a second skin. I might call it a boat anchor or a ball and chain but it isn't like that. I don't feel like I'm dragging it around. I don't feel like I'm carrying it or balancing it on my head in one of those African baskets or hauling it around on my back like an Appalachian trail hiker. I just feel surrounded by it. At all times, on all sides. Like a spotlight that follows me- bright and hot but only illuminating 3 feet around me. I can see 2 steps forward. I can see 2 steps back. But I can see no further – no more or less – nothing that isn't consumed by the light of my experience.

Well the thing is

I was going to post about the Oscars but after working out tonight The Hub and I decided to try and make the late showing of The Wrestler. So we were out the door in a fevered rush and are headed to the theater. My point is this is today's post. Have a great weekend everyone! Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

BOY OH BOY

I got to spend today with my friend's little boy while she tended to some important family business. Spending concentrated time with this boy reminded me how "boy" boys are. My only frame of reference for this age is The Kid who was (and still is) all girl. Pink. Pony tails. Dresses and princesses. That's what I know. My friend's little fella is all blue and red (I was told very sternly by him when I was picking out markers for us to use that he didn't like "girl colors" – pink and purple), dinosaurs and cars, and lots and lots of blowing other things up. Had I spent the day with The Kid at this age, we would have had a lengthy discussion about what everyone was wearing to the princesses wedding and perhaps drawn pictures (on pink construction paper) of dresses and adorned our creations with various sizes of hearts. We would have also at some point, taken the kitty to the kitty salon to get a shampoo and set, put on imaginary make-up and practiced curtsying. And then played beauty shop.

 

Today, instead of conversations about weddings and hairdos, I made lots of car noises – vrrrooooooooooooooooommmmmm schreeeeeeeech vrooooooooooom, cheered at various blast noises –BLAMMMM!O WHAM POW, and tried to figure out how to origami a rocket ship. Which, in the end, wasn't necessary since my young friend was able to take the swan I had carefully folded, tear its head off and use the body as a missile. A missile which, I'm proud to say, saved the world from an evil dinosaur.