Expectations of Privacy

The tech age brings so much of our private lives to the masses it is scary. I honestly don't know how anyone who even owns a cell phone can have any expectation of privacy. We hear so many people complaining about the government's invasion into their privacy and all the hacking scandals. Can anyone expect to not be hacked at least once in their lifetime? I guess so, if they only make purchases in person. But even then, if they pay in anything other than cash their information is stored. Again leading to the possibility of being inadvertently released.

It is not just the financial aspect of technology. Consider all the social websites - Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, LinkedIn, to name a few. You participate in just one of these social websites and your information is immediately available to countless people around the globe. Yet people still expect some modicum of privacy when posting photos of their scantily clad bodies in seductive poses or gloating about how they defaced property because an acquaintance ticked them off.

I write all of this even as I partake of the technology juice. While I would like to think I have some bit of privacy when using https: websites, I know there is a risk. And in participating, I accept that risk. It is the social websites where the risk is, I believe, even greater. Friendships and marriages can be broken with a single entry.

Blogging and posting short entries on social websites is a convenient outlet. It feels good to vent, share one's worries, rejoice or pout online because others read and comment. And you are connected. Not face to face, but keyboard to keyboard. And it is interesting how different the posts of a teen or twenty-something are compared to someone who grew up in the pre-PC (that's Personal Computer, not Politically Correct) era.

Twenty-somethings and younger are growing up fully loaded with technology. Half the children in my son's elementary school have their own smart phones! And many public schools are changing their school supply lists to include laptops or minis. So sharing what they ate today, how boring Mr. Surinsky is in math and the latest photo of 'sexy me' puckering up for the camera is nothing.

But for those of us who spent our childhoods and possibly the better part our young adulthoods with rotary phones, the occasional TV and a total ignorance that computers even existed are a bit more discerning when, and if, we choose to participate in electronic socializing. There is something to be said about venting in person or over the (land-line) phone to a close friend. No audit trail. No lingering texts, emails, posts, voicemails, recordings...no nothing. We learned that burning a bridge in person is far easier to rebuild as memories fade and there are few to no reminders of the original slights.

There are times I would like to share the particulars of why I'm having a bad day in a social post. But the filter from days gone by kicks in and my thoughts go to who may read it and misunderstand it or who may become overy concerned when all I'm doing is venting after the situation has been resolved. Then I go to read a young person's post and aahhh! TMI! TMI! (Too Much Information)

It's interesting, this built-in filter of ours. It seems to be fading from our DNA as technology lends itself to sharing more to a broader audience.

Happy Birthday Little Sister.

Forty-seven years ago I was blessed with a little sister. She was a cute dumpling with black as night eyes and yellow blonde hair. Diane was a shy little thing. She liked to hide behind mama, and as her big sister, I was very protective of her.

We had several adventures in our youth. Like the time I, when I was six and she was three. We were sailing a ship in our dresser's bottom drawer. A nice tall, heavy dresser with a double bottom drawer. Apparently, two little girls in the bottom drawer were a tad heavier than the dresser, and the next thing we know the dresser topples on top of us. We both started screaming bloody murder. Even though dresser and girls were fine, mama failed to see the humor in it.

Then there was the time when I was eight and she was five. It was a hot summer in southern New Mexico.  The house we were renting didn't have air conditioning, though the adobe it was built of helped a bit. I still don't know what motivated her, but Diane convinced me Santa Claus was going to pay us a visit and take us to the North Pole. The only way he could find our house was if we placed Christmas ornaments on the front lawn. So there I go, dope that I am, into the storage area to find the Christmas ornaments. Then she tells me I have to place the ornaments on the front lawn. And I do!

The next step was to pack our clothes. I gather our clothes (summer and winter) and move them all to a corner in my bedroom. I wasn't sharp enough to think of packing them in a bag or suitcase. We go eat dinner, and when mom and dad come to kiss us good night I meet them at the door. "No, I'm a big girl now...You don't need to come in my room to kiss me good night." Hah! Mom comes in 5 minutes later and the next thing I know I'm getting lectured by dad while putting the clothes, all of the clothes, neatly away.

Then comes our year in Wichita, Kansas. I am convinced Diane was and is allergic to Kansas. From the moment we crossed the border into Kansas until the moment we crossed the border out of Kansas, she was very, very sick. In and out of the hospital almost weekly. The school we went to didn't administer meds, so we walked home for lunch and back for the afternoon. Diane was younger than the other children in her grade, and she was smaller. She had two teachers that year. The first was Ms. Paine. When she went out on maternity leave she was replaced by Ms. Rabie (not sure about the spelling). We thought it was appropriate, the names of these two teachers. It was a very tough year for her.

We moved back to New Mexico, spent a year a few blocks from our grandmother and the next three years in the university's married student housing. Those were fun years. We spent a lot of time at the stables, had plenty of playmates our age, played in the rain (when it rained), and roamed all over the campus. Those were the 1970's; a more innocent time. And still, I was protective of my sister. We walked to our respective bus stops together, and when she had problems with any bus or classmates, I was there; the older sibling to guard and watch over her.

We started growing apart when she entered junior high and I entered high school. And within a few years it was all we could do to be civil to each other in the same vehicle. I had my group of friends in the orchestra and German Club, and she had hers in the Pom Pom Squad, football players, and band. I was the brunette with green eyes who preferred comfort over fashion (though I did like to flash some cleavage). She was the blonde with black eyes who left the house in full makeup, hair spray and the latest fashion. (Does anyone remember Jordache jeans?) When we were with our respective friends and happened to cross paths, no one could believe we were sisters. We were polar opposites.

In college we had our bad times, but we gradually started bonding again. There were a few times I would like to think I was actually a positive influence (no fake I.D's - ever). And when our paths crossed we started acknowledging each other. Then I graduated and moved to Florida. I remember circumstances the day I flew out as does she. Honestly, I think it was the first time in several years we really understood each other.

Diane was the first to get married, and it was the first (and probably only time) I was (and ever will be) a bridesmaid. It was a beautiful wedding, and I couldn't have been happier for my sister and my new brother-in-law. Diane was also the first to have children. And I am happiest knowing I was the first to be told she was pregnant; one of the biggest honors in life.

My sister is a very private person, and she would rather suffer in silence than share any misfortune. But when anyone, family, friend, stranger or foe, is in need she immediately takes action and does all she can to help. It may be as simple as a kind word and encouragement, a note or ride, and it may be organizing a group of people to provide much needed provisions. As we grow older we find that we are much more alike than we ever dreamt of in our youth. We still have our different pastimes and friends, but we think alike, we two. When one is thinking of the other, that psychic link compels the other to call. And I can still tell when something is on her mind. Maybe not all the time, but still when it counts.

I'll close with a few of my favorite memories spent with Diane. There were many, and these are but a few. The first was when we were living in married student housing. It was monsoon season, and the rain was pouring down. Diane and I took a walk, sharing an umbrella, around the neighborhood. It was like dancing in the rain, and we gloried in jumping in the puddles. Then there was the time we went to a frat party together. I don't remember the fraternity. It was the house on the corner of El Paseo and University (for us Las Crucens - it was turned into a Glenn Cutter Jewels, and I don't know if it still exists or was razed). What I remember best was us dancing to The Romantics - What I Like About You. To this day I think of her when I hear that song. And then there was the time we cut our friend Tim's hair. He'd had a fuzzy night and when he woke up the next morning someone had chopped his hair up. Tim asked us to 'fix' his hair. I don't think we giggled so much! There wasn't much we could do, but it was funny. And to close, when our Aunt Judy died, we all met in Houston to be together as a family and to attend her funeral. It was a difficult time. She was, in essence, the only aunt we'd known since birth. Mom, dad, Diane and I shared two hotel rooms as our cousins and their families would be staying at our aunt and uncle's house. Diane requires complete silence when she sleeps. No T.V., no radio, no nothing. Well, let's just say she found out pretty quickly that I snore. Loudly. All night. She slept with mom and dad that night. And the night after that. And the one after that. She even taped it. Yes, I have my snoring on iTunes. And it starts with "This is my sister, and this is what she sound like when she goes to sleep..."

Happy Birthday Diane. I love you LOTS, and I am so thankful I have you as my sister. Here's to many, many more happy birthdays.

If You Save A Life...

There is a Chinese proverb, "If you save a life, you responsible for that life." Most of use have heard the other saying, "If you save a life, the person whose life you saved is indebted to you for life." I used to believe the latter. I have since learned the Chinese were, and are, spot on.

This is a topic near to my heart. Just as when I posted about the death of my child, it is difficult to dwell on and share, but here goes.

Several years ago I was in management. It was a good job, but it wasn't the right job for me. So, I left management and went back to what I enjoyed and knew best - computer programming.  I was moved to a project team about whose product I was not familiar. I became friends with a couple of the women on the team, and we would socialize outside of work occasionally. One friend in particular had been going through a relatively stressful time, and her health was at odds on occasion.

There was one week she called in sick. The weekend came and went, and when she had not returned on Monday, I asked if anyone had heard from her. I grew concerned when no one had. I had her number so I called. It took a few tries before she answered the phone. Her voice was so weak I could hardly hear her.  She was extremely weak and didn't think she would be able to get to the doctor. She sounded so ill I offered to take her myself.

Good thing, too. When we got to the doctor, they took one look at her and called the EMTs to take her to the ER. I am still embarrassed and that I didn't just take her there myself. See, she was paper white when I picked her up. No exaggeration. She was so weak, I had to help her from the door of her house to the car.  And I am ashamed to say I just dropped her off at the door so I could park.

Since the EMTs took her to the ER. The staff got her into the back STAT.  Her blood pressure was almost non-existent, her pulse was very low, and when the nurse tried to find a vein for an IV, there was none to be found.

The human body holds between 8 and 10 pints of blood. Red blood cells continually regenerate. The doctors estimate that when my friend came into the ER her body contained roughly 3 pints of blood. Internally, she was bleeding to death. That she was conscious was a miracle in itself.

This happened on a Monday morning, typically the busiest day of the week in an ER, and we spent several hours in the ER for treatment and waiting for a room. My friend's nearest relative (her parents are deceased) was several thousand miles away in Alaska. My friend was sick, in pain, scared, tired and I don't know what else. And there was no way I was going to leave her. The only time I left was when she had to go for the MRI. She was given 6 pints of blood while waiting for a room, and the effects were immediate. She started feeling stronger and color came back into her face. It was like night and day.

If I recall correctly, she got a room in the Critical Care unit around 9:PM that night. By then they were starting to discover what was causing the massive bleeding. And within a few days it was confirmed. Stage 4 Uterine cancer. She had to go in for surgery as quickly as possible. All of this was overwhelming, so I offered to call her sister and friends to let them know what was going on. That phone call to her sister. I now know what a policeman goes through when delivering bad news. Though it was over the phone, the shock, fear and great panic were evident. She got the quickest flight out, and I met her at the airport.

Legal issues today being what they are, I had to ask my friend for permission before sharing her condition to folks at work. My friend was going to be in the hospital for a while and would be receiving medical treatment over several months. And she would need help - driving, caring for her animals, cleaning, etc. Anyone who's worked for the same company for a while knows that your coworkers a like a second family. Not as close as your actual family, but in times of need, everyone rallies together. And it was so in this case. My friend did not realize we valued her as much as we did until this crisis. People from all over the company contributed time and money to assist not only during her hospital stay but also throughout her chemotherapy and radiation treatments.

I am happy to share that my friend is now in her fifth cancer-free year. And she is a new woman. She exudes confidence, is one of the primary go-to folks at work, she is vivacious, travels extensively, and most of all she is happy. Before her experience she was struggling to find her place. She has carved her niche and is living her life just as I think she had always dreamed.

But back to the Chinese proverb - "If you save a life, you are responsible for that life." A niggling in my mind got me to asking about my friend that fateful day. And  I couldn't let it go. For that reason, my friend is still gracing us with her vitality and life. I, too, was with her when she was at her most vulnerable. We talked about things one only mentions when life is ebbing away. And I and another friend of mine worked with her sister to take care of her living situation that first week.

When all of this happened people talking to me would say something to the effect that "you saved her life" or "if you hadn't gone over..." Technically, they are correct. But I believe there was a bigger hand in it. Just as when my son died (http://myredefinedlife.blogspot.com/2011/11/angel-baby.html), God and His Grace took over. I was compelled to ask about my friend, which resulted in her hospitalization. What I find curious, though, is that my friend and I have not talked once about that day. I think, in a way, neither of us wants to. So much happened, and so much was shared during this dark time.

Even more interesting is that I find I want very much for her happiness. We are on different teams now, on different floors, so I rarely see her. But when I do, I ask after her, wanting to know what is going on in her life. You see, I want to be sure she is doing well. I feel an obligation that, since I was there at such a critical time, I need to ensure she leads a happy, productive life. And when I see her in the elevator or I go to visit with her, I am profoundly happy that she has found happiness and satisfaction. If it weren't the case, I would be failing in my obligation, my duty.

And because of this experience, I now understand and believe the Chinese proverb "If you save a life, you are responsible for that life."

Melancholia, the Movie (Spoiler Alert)

Melancholia just hit Showtime. I remember when it was first advertised. It seemed like the antithesis of the feel good movie. It interested me, but I didn't want to spend the money to see it in the theatre. So, when I found it it was on Showtime I taped it.

A brief synopsis: On a woman's wedding day a new star is observed in the sky, and it appears to be on a collision course with Earth. The movie covers the wedding and reception and the days leading up to the close encounter with the star.

Appropriately enough, the star is named Melancholia. And the mental health of the woman getting married matches that of the star's name. The wedding goes off well, but the limo taking the bride and groom gets stuck, and while working to get it unstuck, Justine looks up and sees a new star in the sky. What should be the happiest night of her life turns into a travesty as her foreboding of impending annihilation jump starts a depressive state (you gather through the movie that she is severely bipolar).

I may be reading more into the movie than was intended, but what makes this movie interesting to me is the juxtaposition of the main characters and their behaviors as the star gets closer. Justine, from her first glimpse of the star, is thrown into a manic depressive state. But as the star gets closer, her resolve improves and she almost appears to be cheering up. In contrast, though, her brother-in-law (played by Kiefer Sutherland) is almost giddy with the approaching star. But as it grows closer, he regresses into panic, and upon realization that our existence is drawing to a close, he chooses the time of his own death; leaving his wife (Justine's sister) and son to face death head on.

Melancholia is a contemplative movie.It moves slowly, but with reason. You are observing the sure, informed, inevitable death of mankind through two sisters' opposite mindsets. You leave the movie thinking, and thinking yet some more. Thankfully, I DVR'd the movie. So, I was able to watch the movie a second time. It was almost necessary in order to gain a better understanding of key parts of the events.

Cinematically, it was stunning. You could virtually touch the pathos, the fear, the acceptance and unwillingness to accept. And watching a star traveling at 66,000 miles a minute just...absorb the Earth, both from space and from Earth, was something else. You see the former at the beginning of the movie, the latter at the end. And when all that is left is nothingness...Thought provoking indeed.

This is not a movie for folks who want/need speed and action. DH would have gone to sleep in the first five minutes. : ) And it fits well into the 'end of the world' movie theme. But where other 'end of the world' movies end Disney happy (Armageddon, 2012, Deep Impact, The Day After Tomorrow), this one ends most realistically. At almost two and a half-hours, it can be daunting. But I was totally mesmerized from beginning to end. I had no idea how long it was until the credits started rolling.

Out of 5 thumbs up, I give it a 4. Check it out and let me know what you think.

Gabe, School, and Autism

Whew! We are now in our fourth week of school. Gabe is doing great and it is sooo nice.

Gabe is our youngest child. He is two months shy of 9, and he is in the 3rd grade. His progress to this point has been nothing short of miraculous. As written in the Earth Angel post (http://myredefinedlife.blogspot.com/2011/11/earth-angel.html), Gabe has special needs. These are primarily neurological in that Gabe is Autistic. He was diagnosed when he was 2 1/2 years old. He also has some minor physical needs. He has weak fine motor skills. What that means specific to him is that he has weak hand coordination and strength.

A brief background: Gabe has been in a form of therapy (Physical, Occupational, Speech) since he was 3 months old. He was literally limp like a rag doll when he was born. And he had nystagmus (uncontrollable eye movements). We referred ourselved to Children First, a federal and state funded program that provides therapies for children birth to 3yo who are developmentally delayed 25% or more.

Long story short, Gabe learned to roll over when he was 11 months old. He walked 3 months later. His hands were balled into fists at birth, and after intensive therapy and hand splints, he was able to actually pick up objects on his own when he was almost 3yo. He spoke his first words when he was 3 1/2 yo. He had a vocabulary of almost 50 words a year later. He was successfully potty-trained when he was 5 yo.

Today, Gabe is right there with the other 3rd graders. And he talks waaaaay too much! We actually have to ask him to hush so we can have a few moments of quiet! He still needs help with activities that require hand strength. He is in an Inclusion class. Has been since he started 1st grade. And, for the most part, is a regular kid.

Autism, however, is a sneaky bastard. No two children manifest Autism the same way, and the severity is wide ranging. There are many symptoms. These include Avoiding eye contact, Social awkwardness (moreso than a typical child), Difficulty reading facial expressions and inability interpreting social interactions, Sensory sensitivities, Difficulty communicating, and Slowed emotional development. Loads of information can be found on the internet. We have lived with Autism for almost nine years now, and we are so used to Gabe's idiosyncracies that they are second nature.

Including low muscle tone, his Autism manifests itself several ways. The items listed here are the most obvious.

• Diet - Gabe doesn't eat meat. He enjoys cheese pizza but he will only eat Domino's, Pizza Hut or Sbarro. He eats primarily brown/beige foods - bread, crackers, pancakes, waffles, rolls, vanilla ice cream, apple sauce (under duress), vanilla wafers, to name a few. A very limited diet to say the least. Amazingly he is very healthy. We supplement his diet with vitamins, and he is in the 90th percentile for his age group in weight and about 100 percentile for height.
• Auditory - These set Gabriel off (upset him, he may stim out); vacuum cleaner, blow dryer, blender. Basically anything that sustains a white noise for a period of time. Loud noises also upset him. A raised voice distresses him immensely, regardless of where or from whom he hears it. I typically have a pair of ear plugs or his comfort blanket when we go to the movies, shows, concerts, arena games, etc. I think the worst is fireworks. This year, for the first time since Gabe was born, we went to downtown to watch the city fireworks. Gabe was huddled in two blankets, had my noise-canceling earphones on, and played children's music on my iPod the entire time. As hot as it was, and though the fireworks were across the river, Gabe wanted no part of it.

How Do You Remember?

Where were you 11 years ago? Do you remember when you heard about the attacks? The hijackings? Do you remember what raced through your mind? Can you remember the events of September 11, 2001 without some modicum of emotion passing through your brain?

September 11, 2001. That day is indelibly imprinted in the minds of millions of people the world over. And it was observed most notably in the United States of America with moments of silence at key points in time of that day. Flags were at half-mast. And services were held in NYC, Washington DC and Pennsylvania.

Ever year, on this day, I wonder why it is not declared a day of remembrance. A day where, like Independence Day, Labor Day, and Thanksgiving, businesses, government, and schools shut down commemorate the day. Then, as I look back on what I just wrote, I realize that these holidays are happy days of remembrance. Today is not one such day. Or is it? For on September 11, 2001, heroic actions such as should be written in songs of old saved many more people than were lost. And the actions of the few brought 90 nations together in solidarity.

For me, this September 11 was busy supporting a client. Writing JCL and running scans on the fly. And my first break in the day came around 2:30PM, well past the moments of rememberence of the morning. As I was eating my late lunch, I browsed some news websites and read the articles. And it was just as emotional as it was 11 years ago.

Movies have been made of the events of September 11 and of the fallout from September 11. To date, I have not watched one. Books, also have been written by survivors, families, and others. I also have not read any of these books. Nor do I intend to watch or read any of these. September 11 is sacrosanct. I want my memories to be as they are and not be impinged upon.

I remember the day, watching the planes flying into the World Trade Centers live on television, thinking the world as I knew it was turned topsy-turvy. I was terrified for my children - what kind of world had I borne them into? Talking to them, then aged 7 and 9, was difficult. We tried as much as possible for the days to go as normally as possible. And we adhered to the adage, just answer the question and offer no more information.

I remember, too, the first six months after the attacks. Traffic disputes were at an all-time low, people were substantially kinder, we were all more patient too. Nowadays, even with the many security precautions, life is fairly normal. I never complain when I have to wait in the security line at the airport. And I gladly allow security to search my bags at all venues. It is the price we pay for safety.

Today, I read the articles about the different memorials of September 11, 2001 were commemorated. And tears followed. They always do. And in signing off on this day of rememberance, I am sharing a link of photographs of some of the lesser known rescuers, the rescue and recovery dogs. Take a moment and browse the photos. What a poignant reminder of the bond betweem man and animal in what can be the worst of times.

http://www.dogheroesof911.com/photoslide.htm

When It Rains, It Pours

DD's relationship with her parents is tense. She loves her youngest brother like nothing else. She and her other brother get along, but he dislikes how her behavior can upset DH and I. DD moved out almost the day she graduated high school. To be honest, it was a relief. Our interactions the three years before she graduated spiralled to all new lows. The window in her old bedroom still hasn't been repaired from when it was kicked out a few years ago.

We've gone through our low points, and over the last year it's seemed she has been doing better. She has an apartment with her girlfriend (GF) (with some help from mom), and she bought a used car last month (with some help from dad). She visits when she needs to do laundry or when DYS calls her. So, it's been pretty steady.

Then last week GF's dog bit DD. It quickly got infected, so she and I spent Tuesday in the ER waiting for a doctor to look at it. Eight hours later she had antibiotics and painkillers. In our conversations I find out she and GF are not getting along. I know my daughter. She is a non-communicator, and she has an explosive temper. And she absolutely does not talk about what's closest to her heart. So, I get that niggling at the back of my brain. But I leave it alone. I don't want to think/fear the worst.

And Friday night comes along. It was a busy day. At work, I was engrossed in a cliet issue that was time critical. I didn't leave until almost 12 hours after I'd arrived. About the only break I had was to get a coke. So, I get home, read a chapter of Harry Potter to DYS and get into bed for a well-deserved rest. Then my cell phone rings. And it's DD. She's screaming into the phone, cursing, crying, and what I find out is that she and her GF got into a fight. GF took the car keys, and DD is furious. There's talk of taking pain killers and other crazy talk. So I grab some clothes and take off to get her. I pick her up and take her to the park by our house. Then I go to her apartment and spend an hour talking to GF. To me, it's obvious they need to go their separate ways. But neither of them "had anyplace to go". That and there's the $1,000 to break the lease that mom co-signed. I get DD's car keys, go pick her up and take her to her apartment. Then I finally get to bed.

I get up this morning and call DD. She sounds down, but she's much calmer now. So, I start my cleaning. And then I see on FB that she's posted a comment about how bad her day is. I call her, and her car, only a few days out of the warranty, is dead. The car accelerator died, the oil light went on, and then the car died. Oh crap. I've been in cars that did that, and none of them survived - thrown rods, cracked blocks. All this is going through my mind, and the feeling in my stomach is just dropping. I feel that dread that I felt four years ago when things were at their very worst with DD.

I am so afraid we are heading for another really bad patch with DD. I am praying the car can be repaired for a relatively reasonable cost. I am praying the car is redeemable. I am praying DD and GF can figure out what to do - peacefully. I am praying, period.

Celebrity Junkie II: KStew and RPatz

Yes, yes, yes, the celebrity junkie is back. And it is about this month's couple in the spotlight; Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson. The tabloids have published pics of Kristen (aged 22) in the arms of Rupert Sanders (aged 41), who directed Kristen in Snow White and the Huntsman. He is married to model Liberty Ross (aged 33)and she is in a long-term relationship with Robert Pattinson (aged 26).

The majority of what I've read indicates that
1) Robert Pattinson (RPatz) moved out of his and Kristen's shared home, won't have anything to do with Kristen and is working really hard to hold his head up.
2) Kristen Stewart (KStew) moved out out too and is holed up while beating herself and crying buckets of tears.
3) Liberty Ross is considering divorce and is flaunting her independence.
4) Rupert Sanders is doing all he can to keep Liberty from divorcing him.
5) Liberty and Robert should be sainted.
6) Kristen and Rupert should be burned at the stake.

Well, maybe not that bad. But from what I've read, Kristen is reaping more than her share of negative vibes and judgement while Rupert Sanders is the "poor misguided" older man whom Kristen bewitched. Ahem. Let me read that again. Rupert Sanders is 41 years of age. Kristen is 22. Rupert has been married 7 years and has 2 children. Kristen has been in a relationship with RPatz for 4 years. And what's worse...the tabloids toss about words like "affair" and "intimate" when no true intimacy has been confirmed.

All that has been confirmed is a hug and a loved-up kiss. And the lives of several people are now potentially forever compromised. How sad. How sick and sad that money mongering people have to chase others around, forever sticking cameras in their faces, yelling to get their attention, and then selling photographs to the deepest pockets. Yes, the objects of the paparazzi work as actors, models, and directors, to mention a few. Yes, their names and faces may be known world over. But guess what. They are people. They pee, poop, fart, burp, chew with their mouth open, snore, and every other disgusting thing the rest of us "normal" people do. They wake up grumpy, have pimples, go a few days without washing their hair or shaving their face/legs. They go to the store and shop for tampons, underwear, socks. They get angry, are misunderstood, get their feelings hurt, get depressed, have weak moments.

And now. Now a 7 year marriage and a 4 year near-marriage are possibly irreparably destroyed. I truly hope not. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I watch the Twilight movies, but there is one thing you can't deny. Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson have a very real chemistry and a very real relationship. Or at least they had one. And I, for one, hope they can repair their relationship. Because even from very, very afar I see a very special duality between the two.

But more important to me; I hope Kristen Stewart will continue to be strong. Even when she feels weak. She stays try to herself. She acts like a bad-ass, but when hundreds of cameras are jockeying for a prime shot 24x7, I would act the same too. Moreover, knowing myself, I would be arrested more than a few times for spitting, hitting, breaking cameras, kicking and cursing. That Kristen does none of these things speaks of immense self-control.

Jodie Foster wrote an essay for the Daily Beast in which she addressed the turmoil Kristen has been facing. Who better than another child actor? One who successfully traversed the hills and many valleys and who is a successful, well-adjusted mother of two, still very much in the business. I quote directly from the article:

"My mother had a saying that she doled out after every small injustice, every heartbreak, every moment of abject suffering. “This too shall pass.” God, I hated that phrase. It always seemed so banal and out of touch, like she was telling me my pain was irrelevant. Now it just seems quaint, but oddly true … Eventually this all passes. The public horrors of today eventually blow away. And, yes, you are changed by the awful wake of reckoning they leave behind. You trust less. You calculate your steps. You survive. Hopefully in the process you don’t lose your ability to throw your arms in the air again and spin in wild abandon. That is the ultimate F.U. and—finally—the most beautiful survival tool of all. Don’t let them take that away from you."

(Entire article can be viewed: http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2012/08/15/jodie-foster-blasts-kristen-stewart-robert-pattinson-break-up-spectacle.html?utm_medium=email&utm_source=newsletter&utm_campaign=cheatsheet_morning&cid=newsletter%3Bemail%3Bcheatsheet_morning&utm_term=Cheat+Sheet)
Bottom line, give the young people a break. Give them room, space, time. Let them work their issues out in private. As for Rupert and Liberty, they have a few decades on Kristen and Robert. They have a few more years of life-experience. They can work it out.


And Jodie Foster? One day I'd like to meet you. A good conversation will be had.

Not a Good Day

I'm in a bad place. Not physically, but mentally, emotionally. I've battled depression and self-worth issues for most of my life. I'm happy to say the truly dark times have been few and far between. But lately, with finances being what they are and no one to really talk to about it, it's been getting more difficult to stay positive. What keeps me going are my children - human and animal. But even there, I feel overwhelming guilt that I should be doing more.

Since we moved to the house were are presently living in, it seems as though we are having to stretch our dollars further. For the longest time, really since Baby Rufus died, I've not been motivated to keep on top of the finances. I've been doing the finances since the children were little. But when Baby Rufus died and my happy world collapsed, everything changed. I couldn't find joy in my life. Yes, my children were my joy. And yes, Gabriel is the light of my life. But other than them, I didn't enjoy everyday life. It was so bad that I even gave up that which I've loved doing since before I can remember - reading. Only in the last 1 1/2 to 2 years have I really been enjoying books again. That is about 8 years.

And honestly, I think the only thing that really thumped my out of my hole was the bout with cancer. I was forced to do literally nothing for 6 months. That gave me time to reflect, rest, and just 'be'. And while it kick-started me, it didn't get me totally out of the low-grade depression I think I've been in. So, I've been half-heartedly participating in life, not really doing anything but just going along, day by day, being pulled up by the obligations of family and job.

And so, I finally started paying attention to my life. The problem is, while I was in that hole of low-grade depression, the bottom dropped out of everything else. Financially, we are hosed. I mean, if we didn't have all the medical bills, we might actually be breaking even by the end of the year. But we owe about 10K in medical, and we need to pay about 2K before the end of the year for medical expenses that have nothing to do with the 10K we already owe. DD needs her wisdom teeth removed. They are causing serious issues. And I have a tooth that needs a root canal. And DYS needs new glasses as his old ones aren't strong enough for him to see the chalkboard. And DOS should  be attending college this upcoming semester. Oh, and DH's truck - necessary for transportation - is on the fritz and needs about 2K in repairs.

All of this is over and above our monthly bills which we are about 1 a month behind. I tried working 2 jobs for about 3 years. It wore me into the ground. I could do it again, but should I? DH flat out refuses to get a 2nd job. And why should he? Since I manage the finances and they are in the toilet, it's not his fault. Yes, we've talked about him taking over the bills. But he won't step up to the plate. He's all talk and no action.

Which leads to the other major issue. DH and I. We are in a funk, rough patch, bad stretch, whatever. We are more like flatmates than husband and wife. And when we try to talk, we follow the same pattern we've followed for 20 years, which basically means we don't talk about anything other than softball and the weather.

I try talking to my mom, but it's hard. Because one, she wants to solve her baby's problems and she can't and two, she's not all that crazy for DH anyway and anything I say just makes it worse. I am always afraid she thinks I'm asking for money when really all I am trying to do is get all this angst off my shoulders for a bit. So, for today, this post is handling my angst. While I will post it for other to read, I may remove it as it says a lot more than I probably should say.

A Bucket List of a Different Kind

There are times I truly believe I was born reading. I don't remember a day I didn't know how to read. As I've written before, we moved a lot when I was growing up. One of the effects was that I learned to let go of things that didn't pack or travel well. Books, packed a few to a box, travel well. And books are an excellent way to pass the time - most especially since, when I was a child, the electronics our children now enjoy didn't exist. Books are also, for the most part, inexpensive. As a result, I am a voracious reader.

Being a reader, I am also a continual student. I believe reading and learning go hand in hand. You learn as you read. Even fiction depicts cause and effect, case studies, facts that we didn't previously know. And non-fiction is far more than just dry facts. One of the most fascinating non-fiction books I've read covered the Black Plague. The Renaissance couldn't have been as illuminating as it was were it not for the Bubonic Plague.

Up through 2002 I read almost constantly. If it contained words, I read it. Ads, cereal boxes, ingredient lists, magazines, newspapers, billboards, books, anything and everything. But after my son, RJ, died I all but stopped reading. The death of a child, especially an infant, affects us in different ways. For me, those things I enjoyed most, my escape from reality, no longer held any joy. And after Gabriel was born in 2003, reading still held no joy. I was in mourning for the passing of my son RJ, and for the knowledge that my son Gabriel may never be able to lead a normal life. Gabriel, you see, is Autistic. Instead, we have spent the last eight years working with, and advocating for, Gabriel. He is now almost nine, is getting ready for third grade, and is high-functioning. (More about him in a different post.)

It is only the last year that I have finally eased back into reading. At first it was light reads - books by Elizabeth Young and Meg Cabot were light and happy. Then I joined an online reading group and started participating in online reading circles. I read Room and The Hunger Games trilogy. And slowly, my  reading habits picked up. I started back on science fiction, non-fiction, biography, fantasy. I read my first series of Steampunk novels.  I was introduced to www.goodreads.com and http://www.audible.com/, and my parents gifted me with a Nook. I also loaded Kindle and eBooks to my iPod and Android phone.

I feel as though I finally have my joy back, as though I am finally healing. And to that end, I decided to come up with my own Bucket List of Books. I'll briefly explain my reasons for this bucket list. First off, I am  not really into bucket lists. While there are things I'd like to do and places I'd like to visit, right now I am not compelled to pursue them. Secondly, books, reading, is something I love. I am most comfortable in a library or book store. And I believe that a bucket list should comprise that which one loves or can't imagine living without. Thus, my Bucket List of Books.

Now there all all sorts of lists of books "you should read before you die", "the BBC insists must be read", and so on. And while these lists include several universally acclaimed authors and books, I think that for my bucket list I want to include classics, authors, genres, fiction, non-fiction, historical, and more. And I do not think it should be limited to 100 books. Oh, and it should be flexible. The list may change. Books/authors may be added but never removed. Therefore, I present Julia's Bucket List of Books. I guarantee it will change. But as I said. The list will grow and never shrink. New books are published every day and are therefore worthy of consideration. The hard part for me now is to read all of these books.  Many I have read, yet many more I haven't. Some of which I have not had any desire whatsoever to read, but read them I will. Join me, if you will. And share your progress. I will share mine.And if you are a reader like me, consider joining www.goodreads.com. It's free and an excellent way to keep tabs on the books you've read.

Enjoy!

Julia's Bucket List of Books

1. The Bible
2. One Thousand and One Nights
3. Beowulf (Anonymous)
4. The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales
5. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
6. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
7. The Five People You Meet in Heaven (Mitch Albom)
8. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
9. Bless Me, Ultima (Rudolfo Anaya)
10. The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood)
11. I, Robot (Isaac Asimov)
12. The complete works of Jane Austen
1. Pride and Prejudice
2. Persuasion
3. Sense and Sensibility
4. Emma
5. Mansfield Park
13. The Wasp Factory (Iain Banks)
14. Peter Pan (J.M. Barrie)
15. Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret (Judy Blume)
16. The Faraway Tree Collection (Enid Blyton)
17. Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)
18. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
19. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
20. The DaVinci Code (Dan Brown)
21. Notes From A Small Island (Bill Bryson)
22. A Clockwork Orange (Anthony Burgess)
23. Possession (A.S. Byatt)
24. The Alchemist (Caleb Carr)
25. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (Lewis Carroll)
26. The Canterbury Tales (Geoffrey Chaucer)
27. The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky)
28. Hercule Poirot’s most famous cases Agatha Christie
1. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
2. Peril at End House
3. Murder on the Orient Express
4. The ABC Murders
5. And Then There Were None
6. Five Little Pigs
7. Crooked House
8. A Murder is Announced
9. Endless Night
10. Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case
29. Ramona the Pest (Beverly Cleary)
30. The Hunger Games Trilogy (3 books) (Suzanne Collins)
31. The Woman in White (Wilkie Collins)
32. Heart of Darkness (Joseph Conrad)
33. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Roald Dahl)
34. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin (Louis De Berniere)
35. The Little Prince (Antoine De Saint Exupery)
36. Oliver Twist (Charles Dickens)
37. Ubik (Philip K. Dick)
38. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyesky)
39. The complete works of Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)
1. A Study in Scarlet
2. The Sign of the Four
3. The Advantures of Sherlock Holmes
4. The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
5. The Hound of the Baskervilles
6. The Return of Sherlock Holmes
7. The Valley of Fear
8. His Last Bow
9. The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes
40. Rebecca (Daphne Du Maurier)
41. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
42. Middlemarch (George Eliot)
43. The Sound and the Fury (William Faulkner)
44. Birdsong (Sebastian Faulks)
45. The Great Gatsby (F.Scott Fitzgerald)
46. Madame Bovary (Gustave Flaubert)
47. Alas Babylon (Pat Frank)
48. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
49. Cold Comfort Farm (Stella Gibbons)
50. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
51. Lord of the Flies (William Golding)
52. The Princess Bride (William Goldman)
53. The Wind in the Willows (Kenneth Grahame)
54. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time (Mark Haddon)
55. Tess of the D’Urbervilles (Thomas Hardy)
56. Same Kind of Different As Me (Ron Hall)
57. The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress (Robert Heinlein)
58. Dune (Frank Herbert)
59. Siddhartha (Herman Hesse)
60. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
61. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson)
62. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
63. Les Miserables (Victor Hugo)
64. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
65. A Prayer For Owen Meaney (John Irving)
66. Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro)
67. The Lottery (Shirley Jackson)
68. Ulysses (James Joyce)
69. On the Road (Jack Kerouac)
70. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Ken Kesey)
71. Pet Semetary (Stephen King)
72. Dolores Claiborne (Stephen King)
73. Last of the Breed (Louis L’Amour)
74. The Millenium Trilogy (Stieg Larsson)
1. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
2. The Girl Who Played with Fire
3. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
75. To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
76. The Chronicles of Narnia (7 books) (C.S. Lewis)
77. The Call of the Wild (Jack London)
78. The Giver (Lois Lowry)
79. Dragonflight (Anne McCaffrey)
80. Atonement (Ian McEwan)
81. One Hundred Years of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
82. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
83. Winnie the Pooh (A.A. Milne)
84. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
85. Gone With the Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
86. Cloud Atlas (David Mitchell)
87. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
88. Beloved (Tom Morrison)
89. Lolita (Vladimir Nabokov)
90. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)
91. Nineteen Eighty-Four (George Orwell)
92. The Power of Positive Thinking (Norman Vincent Peale)
93. The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings (Edgar Allan Poe)
94. The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath)
95. His Dark Materials (Philip Pullman)
96. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (Howard Pyle)
97. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
98. Swallows and Amazons (Arthur Ransome)
99. Where the Red Fern Grows (William Rawls)
100. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (J.K. Rowling)
101. Midnight’s Children (Salman Rushdie)
102. Contact (Carl Sagan)
103. Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
104. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
105. A Suitable Boy (Vikram Seth)
106. 4 works William Shakespeare
1. Romeo and Juliet (tragedy)
2. Taming of the Shrew (comedy) 
3. Henry V (history)
4. The Rape of Lucrece (poetry)
107. Frankenstein (Mary Shelley)
108. A Town Like Alice (Nevil Shute)
109. Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
110. Dracula (Bram Stoker)
111. A Girl of the Limberlost (Gene Stratton-Porter)
112. Gulliver’s Travels (Jonathan Swift)
113. The Secret History (Donna Tartt)
114. Vanity Fair (William Makepeace Thackeray)
115. A Confederacy of Dunces (John Kennedy Tole)
116. The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings (J.R.R. Tolkien)
117. Anna Karenina (Leo Tolstoy)
118. Huckleberry Finn (Mark Twain)
119. Mila 18 (Leon Uris)
120. Slaughterhouse Five (Kurt Vonnegut)
121. The Color Purple (Alice Walker)
122. Brideshead Revisited (Evelyn Waugh)
123. The Time Machine (H.G. Wells)
124. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
125. Winds of War (Harman Wouk)
126. The Shack (William Paul Young)
127. The Shadow of the Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon)
128. Germinal (Emile Zola)
129. The Book Thief (Markus Zusak)

Celebrity Junkie: Tom and Katie

I am sometimes embarrassed that I am such a celebrity junkie. I have to admit that daily I troll websites such as http://www.dailymail.co.uk/, http://www.eonline.com/, http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ and the like. I am one of those people who keeps up with the celebrity news of the day. Just ask me about Katy Perry, Ryan Reynolds or (gulp) Justin Bieber. Yes, these folks are entitled to their privacy. And if I were to meet them on the street (highly unlikely), I would most likely pass them by. Why? Because if they weren't famous, I wouldn't know them anyway. That and I don't want to be seen as a hanger-on. So, I enjoy their talents from afar and sometimes daydream that if we were to meet (in some inauspicious way), they would appreciate my talents and consider me know-worthy.

That said, I am compelled to comment on the 'big news of the week' that Katie Holmes has filed for divorce from Tom Cruise.

Good job, Katie! About time!

I've spent the last 24 hours reading several articles about how Katie 'blindsided' Tom, why she filed in New York, that there was no indication in Katie's demeanor, how it will affect Suri, yada yada yada. I may be eons away from these folks, but I think I can make some educated reasons the led to the divorce.

• It's hard living 24x7 in the limelight, most especially when the person impacted most is your beloved six year old child.

We all see photos of Suri Cruise. These are all from the photographers' view. But look at it from Katie's view. Everywhere Suri goes there also goes one to two hundred arrogant, loud and invasive photographers, each armed with mind-numbingly large lenses, each yelling, cajoling, barking at a precocious six year old, trying to get 'the' shot to be seen around the world.

• Being considered a 'has-been' at 33 can be a bit of a downer.

Tom Cruise is larger than life. He doesn't just live, he LIVES! Almost everything he touches turns to gold. He projects a seemingly perfect life. Since they married, Katie has yet to establish bragging rights for anything she's done professionally. Apparently, all projects must be approved by Tom and his cadre of image professionals. While Tom's projects reap profits (for the most part), Katie's projects shrivel and whimper through the cracks in the floor.

• Being forced to extol beliefs one doesn't embrace wholeheartedly can yield resentment.

Hmmm. Scientology. Nuff said.

• Standing by while said beliefs are rammed into your beloved child's every waking moment can also yield resentment.

As a parent myself, I firmly believe children are to be enlightened and not limited. Yes, there are restrictions. But only permitting one parent's perspective to drive a child's life puts that child at a significant disadvantage.

• Continually presenting a perfect life to the world even when it's not can be very tiring.

I am sure Katie has had her down times, as I am sure Tom has had his. But I tend to think that Tom is a bit less introspective than Katie, and if things are sunny he seeks it elsewhere. Not so lucky is Katie. She's the 'adoring wife' and as such is compelled to 'support' Tom. I sometimes think Tom is bipolar and that he is in a perpetual manic state. Must be very taxing to keep that smile on her face. Not only in front of the public, but also in front of Tom. Because, we should realize by now that Tom not only feeds off his millions of adorers, but he also needs total and absolute adoration from his wife. So, even when she's PMS'ing she has to put that 'happy face' on so Tom can feel worshipped and adored.

• Living separate lives can lead to, well, separate lives.

Tom has been busy on his projects while Katie has been busy rearing their daughter. He is traveling the globe, expecting her to do his every bidding, while she lives an insular life surrounded by papparazzi, Scientology trainers, and practically no one else. It has given her time to think. She's young, she's vibrant. Does she really think she will be happy living this kind of life for the next 50 years? I think not.

And therein lays the reason. Katie is seeking the happiness she once had. Peace, family, friends. These are all things she hasn't had in quite some time. She tried to make this marriage work. Tom isn't a jerk. But, this life, this marriage, it has reached its logical conclusion. It it time for Katie to open a new chapter.

You go girl!

Life, Movies and Learning

It's been a few weeks since my last post. It has been difficult deciding what to write about. I've been catching up on reading. Caught a new indie movie. Family life. And all that. So, this will be a ramble.

A few years back I read Stieg Larssen's bestsellers focusing on Lisbeth Salander; starting with The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. You have to be a serious reader to get through them. The plots and the character developments are wonderful. But you have to be focused to get through the descriptive parts. I say that because Stieg Larssen sets up important subplots with detailed background on Swedish politics and other historical information.

Anyway, I was enthralled by the books. And when the Swedish movies came to town, I naturally had to go see them. And as with all movies, each was preceded by previews. While several of the previews were interesting, I was especially taken with Winter's Bone. It is an indie movie and had a limited release. And I missed it when it came to town (think flash in the pan). I did the next best thing; read the book. Or rather, listened to the unabridged audio book. And it was good! Not that I wasn't expecting it to be good, but I really enjoyed the character development. Again with character development! I looked for the movie for about a year but couldn't find it locally. I finally found it last week. And it was just as good as the book.

Now what you need to know is that I am considered an 'eccentric' movie watcher. Just as I love almost all genres of books, I love almost all types of movies. Though gratuitious grossness is not my thing, I will sit through 'horror' movies just for the plot. I watch 'slow' movies, action, wacky, non-english speaking, and more. If there is a downside to all this it's that realistically I can't watch all the movies that interest me. That and I watch many movies by myself. I mean, try finding a movie-mate who likes a wide range of movies. Thankfully, DD enjoys much of what I enjoy. Much, but not all.

And in knowing that, I have come to a realization; that I am most interested in character development (yes, that again). As in books, I am intrigued by what motivates characters to behave as they do. I search for the answer to the question "Why?" That and "What in the character's past drives the character to behave as they do?"

Take Lisbeth Salander, for instance. She is anti-social, follows her own moral code and has her own ethics. When she sees injustice done (according to her moral code), she retaliates. No remorse. Why? How did this moral code develop? What in her past molded her to the person she's become? It's the same with Ree Daley in Winter's Bone. She is persistent in her search for answers to her father's disappearance, even to her detriment. And she is determined to care for her younger siblings regardless of the effect to her wellbeing. Why? How did this tenacity develop? What in her past prompted this necessity? And, for grins and giggles, take Wolverine. X-Men Origins: Wolverine (the movie) depicts Wolverine's beginnings. Again, what drives him to turn from a life of adventure to a life of simplicity (even though that life of simplicity was temporary)? And why did his brother, Victor Creed's, path veer so distinctly from his?

Yes, yes, yes. These are all trivial and fictional characters. But though movies are produced for monetary gain, still the folks who write the screenplays impart a bit of themselves, knowingly or not, into the stories. And therein lies the rub. Whether we know it or not, our private lives, thoughts, impressions, etc. leach out through our actions and words, written, planned, unplanned, and so on. And as an inveterite observer of people, my question is what motivates us to behave as we do? What in each of our pasts colours our present?

And I think that is one of the primary reasons I enjoy reading and movie-going. I am curious. As I read, regardless of the brevity, I am curious about the motivation, the cause to the effect, the underlying/ contributing factors. I enjoy thinking, coming up with my own hypotheses and then finding out if I am anywhere near the mark. And as I have written before, life is all about learning.

This Endless Circle of a Rut

Today my entry is a bit on the serious side, and it will probably take more than one entry. First some background.

Before I met DH I dated a man I'll call DB (Dear Boyfriend). I don't know that he was dear, but I loved him. A lot. We were together, on and off, for 7 years. DB had a rough childhood. He was the youngest of 4 children. His mother died when he was a baby, and he and his siblings were separated and put into foster care for about 12 - 14 years. A fall from a tree when he was 6, a compound fracture in his right leg, and lack of medical care for a week, led to a near fatal infection, many years of hospitalization, wheelchairs, and one leg 3 inches shorter and a foot 3 sizes smaller than the other. He literally didn't walk unhindered until he was 15, when all the children were returned back to their father.

I met him when he was 19 and I was 20. He was, to me, gorgeous. His mother was Cajun, and he inherited her coloring, curly hair, brown eyes and fiery personality. He was what many would call a "bad boy". And we hit it off immediately. It was love at first sight.

The problem was he was addicted. To alcohol and drugs. At first it was the garden variety of drugs. And gradually his addictions grew more intense and more desperate until he was a hard-core junkie. I was addicted, though. To him.

It took a 3,000 mile move on my part, a major culture shock, and my finding out how extensive his web of lies was, and how lethal and damaging. And to save my own sanity, I cut all ties. It was one of the most heartrending decisions I made in my life. I was alone, 3,000 miles from my family and friends, and what friends I had left weren't talking to me. It sucked.

Enter my coworkers and friends J & J & R. They helped pull me out of my shell. We went to lunch, dinner, parties, shows. We took day trips and had adventures. Six months after I'd broken off all contact with DB I felt normal. And I was happy. And then one auspicious night, when we were at a nightclub, I met DH.

He was different. Fun. Gentlemanly. We started dating immediately. I accompanied him to his softball and basketball games. We played gin and backgammon and went to his out-of-town tournaments. We went to parties together and had our own adventures. We had our ups and downs; trust issues, emotional issues (primarily on my part). But he was a good man. And considering the previous 7 years, I wanted a good man. Needed one.

And here is the next twist. Years before I moved to Florida and met DH, my paternal grandmother and I had  what we would call date nights. I would go over to her apartment, we would do a thorough cleaning, visit with her friends, order pizza, watch C-SPAN (her favorite channel), read through her correspondence with her extended family, and talk. Some nights she would share stories about her childhood. Others about married life and life with dad and his brother. We both looked forward to these visits. It brought us closer. And she would share words of wisdom and advice. One of the last times I visited before I moved she shared some advice that I vividly remember to this day. "Don't be afraid to say 'No' just because you may hurt some one's feelings."

Now back to Florida and DH-to-be. A few months after we started dating our respective living situations changed, so we decided to move in together. We had virtually nothing. We each earned hardly anything and we were still paying off our own massive bills. But we had fun. We would have parties, go to parties, talk all night, go to games and tournaments, talk all day. Yes, we had our fights. But we always made up before going to sleep. Then I got pregnant with DD and everything changed.

We were both excited. I was a bit more terrified, but DH viewed it as an adventure. And then we started talking about marriage. DH is a staunch Catholic. Me? Southern Baptist. A lax Southern Baptist. Long story short, we were going to get married before DD was born, but DD decided to come roughly a month early. So, instead we married a year later when I was 4 months pregnant with DOS. We married in a Catholic church after I converted to Catholicism. And life was good.

Through the years, DH and I have had our disagreements. But more fundamental, we have found we have different philosophies; in child-rearing, finances, life in general. Sometimes our differences are minuscule. Other times, I don't know. They seem like the elephant in the room.

I have always been independent. I am also very strong-willed. Almost too much so. DH is more traditional. And he is also very laid-back. Put the two of us together, and there are times it is not a pretty picture.

There are times I get the impression DH feels emasculated. And I get the distinct impression that though he says he is responsible for not 'having what he deserves', he blames me. It is like he believes he is entitled to all that he thinks he should have at his age. And he's right when he says I don't understand. Because I don't. I mean, we have our children, a beautiful house, transportation, good jobs, etc. We may not have the funds to go on trips across the country or around the world. We may have a high bill ratio. And we may not be able to blow hundreds of dollars when we want. But we are healthy. We can pay our bills, and they will eventually get paid off. And life, in general, is good. To me, life is a journey. And who knows? As I always say, Hope Springs Eternal.

But DH. Here are some of the phrases I hear: "That is my karma." "That is my life goes." "I never get what I deserve." "No one listens to/understands/hears me." "My children don't care about me." "Nothing I say makes any difference." "I have a lot of good ideas but no one wants to hear them." "After all these years you still don't know me." "It's my fault no one takes me seriously." And I could go on.

And he's right. I don't understand him. I try, but try as I might I don't get it. No one is entitled. And so what if we owe more than we probably should? The situation may not be ideal, but we are still moving forward. And appearances can be deceiving. I recently found out a coworker/friend of mine has been divorced for several years, had her house foreclosed on and is in bankruptcy. By all appearances she is very well off. And other peers with two incomes, well, they are earning roughly the same incomes. Whereas, ours is lopsided, and that can and does affect expenses.

So, to what does he feel entitled? To retire at 62 and not have to work another day in his life? That is his goal. But it's not mine. Yes, it would be nice. More than nice. But realistically, we either downsize or keep working to stay in the house we are in.

Do you know what he would say to all of this? "You still don't understand what I'm trying to say. I deserve more respect. I deserve to be listened to. I deserve..." And again, I don't understand. I do respect him. I listen to him (though hearing the same diatribe time and time again does get old - and he certainly knows how to preach!). And I try to make him content if not happy. But it's just not enough. And that is when I ask myself - Is it me? To which he would say - "It's not all about you."

Then what is it? Because this - all this - sometimes I know this is not what I signed up for. I try but I can't make him happy. And I don't like the feeling that somehow I'm to blame. And all this energy - it could be redirected to truly doing something. Making a difference. But it's zapped because we are stuck in this endless circle of a rut. And I think back on my grandmother's advice and I wonder; did we get married because we didn't want to hurt the other person's feelings? I don't know. I just don't know.

On Being A Parent I

This is a subject that has been weighing on my mind for a while now. I have three children. The eldest is DD (Dear Daughter). And the middle and youngest are sons (DOS - Dear Older Son and DYS - Dear Younger Son). My husband and I have very different upbringings and thus have very different philosophies on child-rearing. It has been a continuous source of friction through our children's lives.

Me being more of the Type A and DH (Dear Husband) being definitely Type C, we can guess who got their way most of the time. Which has contributed to communications mishaps between DH and I and the children.

I love my children unconditionally. They are the lights of my life. And I know DH also loves our children. There are times, though, when our children's choices make it difficult for DH to comprehend them...as do I.  And that does not change how I feel one whit. My children are my miracles. I love them so much.

Now that I've been a parent for a few years, and my eldest is nearing 20, suffice it to say that I heartily regret some (many) interactions I had with my parents when I was between the ages of 15 and 26. Let's just say I made it difficult for my parents to...like me, let alone love me. I rebelled, as do we all. I'm not sure, though, that my parents were ready for me to rebel so...dramatically. Mom and dad became parents young (at least young for everyone in my age group), and I hit 15 when mom was 34 and dad was 36. They were both fairly young in their careers. My sister (smart girl), learned what not to do through my mistakes. Or rather, she learned better rebelling skills.

So, like I said, my eldest is nearing 20. And the last 5 years have been, hmmmm, tumultuous. I think that is a fairly tactful way of saying the first 3 years were horrible. Terrible. Wow. I'm surprised we all survived. In the last 2 years we've seen a leveling off. Not that the crazy years are over, but now that DD has been living on her own for about a year now, it's been relatively peaceful.

I think what has been a real maturing opportunity on DH and my part has been that DD came out as a lesbian when she was still in high school. She first indicated she was bisexual, but it soon became apparent she preferred female relationships. As for me. It was difficult to accept. The primary reason being that I had to face the very real possibility/probability that my daughter would not have biological children of her own. And that was tough. But what I realized very quickly was that DD is my daughter regardless. Regardless. And to be involved in her life meant loving all of her. Which, actually, was and is very easy. She has good taste in her significant others. And her GF's have always been fun, nice, pretty, and just enjoyable to be with.

To keep in DD's life, I try to spend quality time with her. It isn't always easy given our work schedules, but I try to make it work. DD and I have much the same taste in movies and books, so movies is fun and easy. Sometimes I take DD grocery shopping. And whenever I go on a trip I always bring something back for her. I do that for all my children. It's something my parents did for my sister and I, and it's tradition. I also make myself available to DD. I call and talk to her at least 2 times a week. Or at least I try; sometimes I have to leave texts and voicemails. And sometimes I bring little treats to her at work.

For DH, though, his acceptance that his daughter is a lesbian is a continuing struggle. He loves his daughter, but (and this is my opinion only) I think his religious upbringing makes it very difficult to get past DD's sexual orientation. When she spends the night (which happens occasionally when we need her  to watch DYS in early mornings), he really doesn't want her GF to stay too. (They sleep on the foldaway bed in the living room so ain't nothing gonna happen!) And many times he and I have heated discussions about what we and will not allow in the house. But I am happy to say that whenever she calls with a need he is right there ready to go to her aid.

What's ironic is that, to me, DD and DH are very much alike; stoic, keeps their feelings in, ready to help anyone in need, and most of all "I'm going to wait till he/she approaches me first before we talk." I think that with the passing of time, we may grow closer. I hope so. I am very close to my parents now, and I really want to have a close relationship with DD. There is so much I want to do with and for her. But it's not my place. Not until she asks and/or readily accepts.

I sometimes think it's easier for me because it seems as though I've always had gay friends - male and female. High school, college, work, roommates, church. It's sort of like how I have felt colorblind. I think every school I went to in my life was multi-cultural. Skin color was like hair color or clothes. I learned early what was important to me - a person's mind, sense of humor, ability to grow and learn. The fact that my children are multi-racial reminds me that color is but one part that makes the whole.

Anyhoo, there is no real conclusion to this entry. I just wanted to share some of what was on my mind. More will come. My children are each very much their own individuals and sharing their strengths and how I learn from them is important to me.

Night all!

What To Blog About?

It's SPRING!!!!

I enjoy finding quotes to reflect events, and this is one I found that says it all:

It's spring fever.  That is what the name of it is.  And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!  ~ Mark Twain

It's been a busy month. Work has demanded much of my time lately. An impending deadline and inexperienced coworkers have translated into extra hours at work. Thankfully, the end is in sight...for this project. Then another month and another deadline. I really do love my job. I enjoy problem solving, and computer programming is all about creating solutions. 

The conundrum of writing a blog is that most blogging inspirations occur at the most inconvenient times and places. Thumbs aren't exactly the most efficient way to write a blog. Neither are pillows the most comfortable headrest - when one is thinking of titillating topics. And by the time I make it to the computer, what has happened to those grandiose ideas? I have no idea because they've vacated my brain, and all that's left are lingering impressions of what I wanted to write.

So, here I am. In front of the computer. All thoughts of what I could have written gone. Flown away. Buh bye! And here's my plan. You be the judge as to whether I succeed in this plan. Here's hoping I succeed.

1. Write a list of topics
2. Blog about one of these topics at least one day a week. - Target Tuesday night.
3. As more topics come to mind, I'll add them to my list of topics. 
4. And let's find out what evolves.

My List of Blog Topics (as of 20 March, 2012)

• Steampunk (a literary genre)
• Relationships (children, spouse, friends, coworkers)
• Reading tools (iBooks, Kindle, Nook, websites, online, hard copy, etc.)
• Interesting websites (ie, Pinterest, Postcrossing)
• Movies (recent, memorable, good, great, bad, terrible)
• Introspection
• Books
• Autism
• Fitness
• Cooking/Food

That's a vague enough list now isn't it. Today is Tuesday. So, I commit to writing about one of the above topics by next Tuesday. And your input would be greatly appreciated. Let's see if anyone out there is reading! : )

Working On My Redefined Life

Wow! What a busy few weeks it's been! With more to come! I'm so excited! No, nothing special is happening. I just feel rejuvenated. Revived. ALIVE!!!

My parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary Friday, February 3rd. I traveled to Dallas to co-host a party in their honor. But theirs wasn't the only event of the trip. I went to my first Bunco party. Twelve women, martinis, hors d'oeuvres, and lots and lots of talking! I even won Baby Bunco!

The next day we celebrated mom and dad's Golden anniversary with a party at Dee and Andy's. We surprised them with cousins, dad's older brother, friends from New Mexico, and more. It was a FUN party! I have to share that poor dad had a dental emergency that day (lost a crown and post) and had to spend 5 hours in a dentist chair before the party. He was such a trooper, though! And his toast to mom was beautiful and touching. Dee and I were crying so much poor Andy had to hand us the kleenex box.

Then Saturday was Andy's birthday. We had game night and pizza. We spent 5 hours playing Taboo and Scattergories! I haven't laughed that hard or that much in years!

On Sunday we went downtown to see the Jean Paul Gaultier exhibit. Wow! It was something else!

And on Monday I flew back home. Needless to say, I am a bit tired. But it was so worth the lack of sleep!

And now? Now it is time to clean the corners and recesses of this life! There is so much I want to do, learn and accomplish. And I now realize no one can motivate me but myself. I have started my list, and I expect it to grow daily. But I have to start somewhere! And with the help of websites like www.Pinterest.com and others, I hope to transform my home and time into a work of art.

First the more mundane tasks. Clean out the closets, clean out the drawers, boxes and such that have been sitting around untouched for years. Have a garage sale! Make a few bucks. Shred all the old paperwork. Go through the filing cabinet. Paint the bathrooms. And so on.

And the fun things, too. Spending time with Gabriel, doing activities, and getting him ready for Valentine's Day.

I start tonight! My list has begun. And tomorrow the action begins. Wish me luck. And pray I stay motivated.

Woot! Woot!

New Year, New Me

HAP-PY (belated) NEW YEAR!!!

Whew! So much has happened over the last 4 weeks! And so little! Where to begin? Where to begin?

Well, Christmas was a nice quiet affair. We opted to put only a couple holiday figures outside and just the tree inside. Usually we spend an entire weekend decking the house inside and out. Gabriel decided to write Santa a letter instead of visiting him in person. Santa is a bit too jolly, red and loud for Gabe. Every picture we have of him with Santa depicts him desperately trying to squirm out of his lap.

The gifts this year were low-key, too. Given our financial situation after my being on leave for half of the year, our finances meant we put more thought into the quality as opposed to the cost. As a result, it was one of the nicest Christmases we've had since DD and DOS were babies. And it was just us. And it was wonderful. What a nice way to celebrate Christ's birthday!

In my last post I wrote about having the luxury of going to the movies over the holidays. An extension of that is I am finding myself slowing down significantly. And in a good way.

Before the hubbub of surgery, radiation therapy, etc. (documented in my other blog: http://wonkyknee.blogspot.com), I lived frantically. Always on the go, working two jobs, doing what seemed like a thousand things that needed to get done "right now", and needing to be the 'perfect' whatever in everything. I was always exhausted. Going through surgery, radiation therapy, and the subsequent recuperation forced me to slow down; almost to a complete stop. My days consisted of sleeping, rehab (exercises mandated by the doctor), and what little I could accomplish with a foggy brain (via pain meds) and very little concentration; primarily one task a day.

When I started back to work full time, it was a challenge. It has been just over 3 weeks since I started back, and what a difference from 6 months ago! Six months ago I worked 12-14 hours a day, came home, did whatever "needed" to be done at home, tried to sleep (usually only getting 2-3 hours of sleep a night), and started all over again. It is difficult to explain how busy I thought I had to be.

And now? I work my full day (8-9 hours), but I get to work earlier than I used to. I come home, and if I want, I cook dinner. If not, it's usually leftovers or a frozen dinner, something quick for Gabe (DOS and DH take care of themselves). Help Gabe with his homework, get him off to bed, and then I'm off to bed! Two nights a week I go to a Pilates class. And I occasionally have other plans on the weeknight, but only occasionally. I am usually in bed by 10:30 PM! For me, that is Major with a capital 'M'. I have always been a night owl!

Weekends? Yes, there's the laundry and the grocery shopping. But if it doesn't get done, it will during the next week. Weekends are now for relaxing and family. DH and I are spending more time together and with the children. We are enjoying each other again; something we hadn't in a long time. And getting up in the morning now is so...refreshing. I used to hate waking up. I was always so tired, bone tired. Now I'm tired but it's a 'shake off the sleep' tired. I like the change!

And just what did change? Me? I think that is part of the answer, but not the entire answer. Being forced to do nothing for 6 months was a gift. I had to slow down. I had to stay home. I had to put my life in my family's hands and trust that the show would go on. And it did. And I had to accept it as is. And I did.

And since then? Well, I didn't make any New Year resolutions, but I did make New Year changes. Yes, we all have high hopes at the beginning of the year. And a few weeks into the year those new beginnings are typically shot and put in the grave of New Years past. But this year I feel different. I am...happy. For the first time in many years, I am finally content. So, I did make plans for this year. And so far I am keeping my commitments to myself. And with my new attitude, I think I just might be able to accomplish what I couldn't for so many years.

So, this is really, now, my life redefined.