It's January - Eeek! - And a musing

I realized today that following my last post, I could very easily see my readers (if they're out there) being left with the impression that the aforementioned dental session has been going on ever since November....leaving me toothless!  Happy to say, that's not the case.  All went well.  I still have the remainder of my teeth, and I am deeply hoping not to have a repeat of that experience.  The dentist's office is always such an immediate reminder that we're human and therefore, subject to constant change.  Kind of wish my teeth were invulnerable.  Don't you wish yours were?

Now, for a stray musing that's been recurring a lot lately.  Have you noticed how most people cross a street?  Not the ones who stick to the cross walks.  No.  I mean everybody else.  Everybody I've seen lately crossing the street - either while I'm at a light or having them cross directly in front of my car in the middle of the street - don't directly cross the street.  They all "angle" their way  across the street.

It's never a direct cross - i.e. a 90 degree cross from the side of the road.  You will notice this is true, even if the traffic is stopped in both directions.  Anglers will manage to angle as they weave their way through the cars.  And, of course, the more frustrating anglers tend to dawdle in front of your car especially if they notice you getting frustrated.  Many, many times these angle crossers seem to be doing it where ever and when ever they wish.  There is no apparent concern for their own safety.  Human vs. machine.  Or Human vs. Driver's reaction time and really, really good brakes.  It makes you wonder - are they all invulnerable?  Or do they all have a secret death wish?

Heaven help you if you comment on the fact they're dawdling away in front of your car, or that they've   scared the bejezus out of you because they just stepped out in front of you - irregardless of how fast you are going, and whether or not there's a green light.  You are most likely to be given the finger or sworn at most ferociously.  In one instance, I was hounded for about 100 feet, and sworn at for every step they took.  Truly - I did not start it by swearing at them.  I had shaken my arms at them.  I was just in shock.  Personally, I'm just really glad I didn't hit the child in the stroller when she was pushed in front of my car - in the middle of the street - from behind a van.  

At any rate this is not meant to be a rant.  It just puzzles me.  Don't folks realize that when they angle across a street - they are exposed to "vehicular traffic" far more than if they just go straight across?  It's a simple matter of geometry! lol.  And yes, I have to confess, when I'm feeling strong and quick of foot (if not impatient), I, too, will angle my way across the street.  It just seems to be an odd predilection for us humans to have when you consider  the general size and heft of  the vehicles on our roads.

Please Extract #31

There it is, simply written in beautiful cursive handwriting.  Three word groups starkly displayed on a very small white envelope with an even smaller x-ray inside.  "Please extract #31."  For some reason, the very simplicity of the phrase has a much larger impact than its basic visual appearance.  Probably because we are talking about a tooth.  One of mine.

Now, I've had a tooth extracted before.  Knowing what it entails probably makes those three words so very strong.  I think, too, that the word "extract" sounds much more threatening than "pulled."  The word "pulled" implies some cozy, after dinner story about wrapping a string around the tooth in question (whilst very young), and tying the other end around a door knob, rock, toaster, or some kind of object  to pull the offending tooth out so you have something to put under your pillow for the Tooth Fairy.  Money usually being the reward.

Being somewhat older now, the tooth in question needs to be "extracted," usually by a dental surgeon type. [This, of course, does not address those teeth lost to high impact moments usually experienced in fighting, or accidents where the face comes into forcible contact with an immovable object.]

Now, not only does the tooth  need to be extracted by this oral surgeon, but instead of receiving a nice monetary reward for the removal of the offending tooth - for my own good - I am responsible for laying out a hefty chunk of cash.  Where's the Tooth Fairy now???  I'd really like to know, because there seems to be a great imbalance here!  Never mind the visions of being a toothless wonder which dance in my head.

I comfort myself with the fact that the hefty fee going to the oral surgeon is honestly earned.  In some cases, I understand, it can be the struggle of the century to extract certain teeth.  I have found out from the receptionist that my surgeon spends most of his time "extracting" teeth.  So he probably needs the extra cash to pay for his treatments for elbow and shoulder tendinitis.  

I have a lovely vision of the gentleman - in a Popeye-like way - where one arm/shoulder is hugely, over-developed  which he waves around with a pair of pincer-like tongs in his hand.   Happily, I can say that a) the experience hasn't been that bad, and, b) unhappily? (lol) his arms actually look normal.

The event is still to come.  In the meantime, each time I pass the area where that very small white envelope sits, all I can see are the words...."Please Extract #31."

A Taste of "Posh"

A little while ago, I took my car in for one of those complete overall checkups at my car dealership.  (Yes, I am slavishly attached to them - they give me free oil changes.)  As their courtesy ride doesn't extend to another town where I've been doing contract work - for the first time ever, I got a loaner car.  And, oh boy, was that car nice.

You see, despite my expensive tastes and my penchant for indulging my whims in many ways, I long ago decided, albeit reluctantly, that chosing a road vehicle would be sensible choice.  Needless to say, a large part of that was fitting within my means, have a good track record for service and mpg, and....have certain essentials such as music, air conditioning and cup holders. Must have the cup holders!  My requirements are quite simple.  My car, being a 2003 model, fits the bill.  It's so simple in some ways that the windows are still rolled up by hand, and the door locks are all manual.

My loaner car was entirely seductive.  Oy.  It had been explained that all the economy cars were already rented out, but I really wasn't listening.   I was too busy being anxious about getting to work at a reasonable hour.  Then....I was introduced to Black Beauty.  She was - no, not a horse - but a stunning luxury sedan that had at least two feet on my car, and nary a water mark anywhere that I could see upon her gleaming exterior.  The interior was spotless with leather seats, and streamlined everything.  It too me a few minutes to discover where basic necessities (like the cup holders) were hidden.  Everything was electronic and digital. Funnily enough, I felt a low sense of panic as tho' 1) I wasn't old enough to have my parents car, and 2) I really needed to dress up to sit in it.

I did feel very swank in it.  And oh, did I enjoy how responsive the car was to my requests for power.  Wow.  Talk about seductive.  I was master of the turnpike, surging along in the fast lane.  (Think it had a V8 engine versus my 1.4 liter.)  I have to confess at being a little over cautious.  Heaven forbid I get into a fender bender, 'cause it felt a little like driving a boat.  Yes, the car was responsive and powerful, but its sheer size made me feel a bit clumsy with it.  None-the-less, I felt totally, utterly swank as though I was swanning around in something very special for a special occasion.  Not a simple loaner car.  I felt I should have been going to the opera or a concert in the City - not driving to and from work.

That evening, I had further proof that posh luxury sedans are really not for me.  For a total of 18 miles of  driving - I had to return with the gas tank full - it cost $11.00!!!!!!  Outrageous!  So, as you can see, a taste of posh was a delightful visit to the side where the other 1/2 lives.  For now, I'm very happy in my half with my economic, spritely and very responsive beauty.  My car definitely rocks, and doesn't make me nervous.  lol.

Just Today

Low and slow today.

Massive headache kept me pinned to my armchair for hours.
Had a massive paperback to occupy me while I concentrated on not moving my head.
It wasn't enough.
Ate bagel chips and chocolate comfort food while I read.
It wasn't enough.

Finally broke away from my chair to pickup a prescription - my life on meds.

Wasn't until I got a late afternoon latte that I started to recover.
Glorious caffeine!

It's damn near 6:30 p.m. now, and I'm finally perking up a bit,
While the world starts to slow down for a new week.

I need another day.
_______________________

Today was glorious out - warm with a lovely, cooling breeze.
And I saw it go by from my chair inside.
Unable to stir myself beyond the door.
Another day lost in this life.

"Move yourself!" They cry.  "Go out, mingle, find connections, create your life!"
Like the ebb and flow of water, I have fought to do just that - for decades -
seeking those connections that speak, that spark, that love, that laugh.

Only to discover time after time, after time, that some thing is missing.
Some thing I have lost or never had.
The connections never click into place.
They bump and slide away with a slick speed.

And the surge of paralysis threatens to drown me me again.
It overwhelms possibility.
Potential becomes meaningless.
Simple risk becomes life threatening.
Only survival remains as a goad.

Oh wait!  I've got to water the flowers this evening.

Winter Lights

Driving home last night in the dusk I passed a house that had two bushes decorated in white lights.  Then a little further along, through the trees, there was a house that had a great evergreen in its garden with spiraling white lights from the top to the bottom.  Each made me smile.  There were at least four or five more instances of white lights on trees or bushes on my way home.  One, a tiny, tiny tree in the middle of a great mown field with nothing else around it.  There it stood, shining out into the growing darkness.   And you know, even though you could argue that the property owners where just being lazy in leaving their Christmas lights up, I really, really appreciated their friendly lights in the face of the oncoming winter night.  Why?  Simply because they made me smile.  They're no longer holiday lights - but, winter lights. Winter Lights....joyous in their glow....warming my spirit on a winter's night.  

The Comfort of Perspective or Not

Seven months ago, today - if you aren't OCD about number of days in a month - I wrote about being in the crossroads.  And, I also, rather self-judgmentally called myself "dithering" there in those crossroads.  


Over the past 7 months, it has slowly occurred to me that I was being rather an ass in determining my behaviour as "dithering."  Whoosh.  Talk about self-judgment!  Day-um.  No.  I was, and am, simply a soul living life.  Because every moment in every moment of our lives can be construed as a crossroads with a myriad of future possibilities streaming out from each nanosecond.  And, as we change or choose something from moment to moment - so too, do our future possibilities change.  And yes, some possibilities close to us, as well.   There is nothing wrong in that - at all - for any of us.  


It's become eminently clear to me that we all may secretly wish for that one dramatic event to change our lives - while being a little scared of it.  On the other hand, change while constant can be so subtle in our lives that we can be completely oblivious to it until we look back. The last time I wrote here, I was beginning to drown.  Since then, I've managed to surface enough to breathe.  Which I why I'm posting again.  


I have no idea where I'm going or what I'm going to do with my life, or even if I'll live long enough to achieve whatever it is I'm going to do.  Currently, having a temporary job, is providing me with a type of anchor which allows me to even consider a future of possibility.  I have no idea if this will lead to something or if it is simply another checkpoint in the course of one's life.  The best part of the whole thing(?)  is that I'm finally coming to accept that I am not supposed to set the world on fire.  Nor am I responsible for what other people do.  There is a measure of relief there.


Biggest challenge these days is finding ways to accept my self while still maneuvering my way through socially acceptable ways of living and working without judgment for myself or anyone else.  That - and finding ways of keeping a roof over my head, for I'm rather fond of having a place to call "mine."   And.....still, somehow in all that being true to myself.   Was it Shakespeare?  "To thine own self be true."   Man, oh man, that's got to be one of the most deceptively simple sounding challenges of life.  I envy and admire those who seem to have the key.  Then again, what role are we to play in this life?  


Enough philosophy for now.  Let me simply say that you may hear from me more often than every 7 months.  Perspective?  Who knows?  I'm just glad I'm willing to give writing a shot again.  Cheers!

Crossroads

The simple definition of crossroads is the place where two roads meet.  In my case, the crossroads in question feels like part two of the Merriam-Webster definition which states: "A point at which a crucial decision must be made that will have far-reaching consequences: 'we stand again at a historic crossroads'."  From where I'm standing, the decision(s) I need to make will potentially only be historic to me.  Also, from where I'm standing, it's not simply a question of whether to turn to the left or the right or even, to take the road less traveled.  No, the crossroads I see for myself have from five to eleven (and sometimes, even more!) routes criss-crossing each other at this point in time, and I seem to be left in the middle of a major intersection dodging situations, and peoples's lives as they shoot by me on their paths. 

Being stuck in the middle of a major crossroads dodging traffic, is the only explanation I have for where I've been for the past month, and why I haven't posted anything in that time.  Now, if I was choosing between heading for the lifeboats or staying on the Titanic - there'd be no hesitation.   Well, o.k., I'd still hesitate. 

At least, it would be clear that I had three choices: 1) going in wee lifeboat with Molly Brown and possibly surviving; or, 2) staying snug in my state room with my head under a pillow whilst the ship sank taking me with it; or 3) going for a North Atlantic swim while struggling against God knows how many layers of petticoats, skirts and whatnot, only to have hypothermia get me.   Now, don't you agree?  There's a clear choice here. 

Actually...., one could choose the showy option (No. 4) and go for a neatly executed swan dive off of the ship's rudder as the ship went nose down into the ocean.  However, surviving a dive of that height (not to mention the close proximity of the keel) is somewhat questionable. 

Without Titanic decisions being offered, what I'm left with are a myriad of small life choices.  For some reason, their apparent smallness makes it all the more difficult for me to choose.  These choices do have the potential to lead to something bigger.  

Unfortunately, there are a whole LOT of them which can overwhelm me.   There's no mysterious little inside voice saying "your life is to be found in the mall," or an inexplicable conviction that I can run the country better than the President so I need to start by running for local office.  "Be practical" you might offer.  I could try to apply for work at a famous discount store, but I'm not at all sure they'd have me! 

It's not simply my work/career, it's also how I'm to live.  So, for the moment, I'm left looking, wondering and spinning about in the middle of my crossroads.  Maybe some God-like figure will take pity on me one day, gently take me by the shoulders, turn me in a direction and give me a shove, and simply say "Go."   Otherwise, I may spend the rest of my time, stuck in the crossroads - dithering.  So, if you don't hear from me.  That's probably where I am living.

 

Rapt for the Rapture!

A lot has been written, posted, billboarded about today.  The day of purported Rapture.  It is now after 5 p.m.  I've been keeping an eye out all day, just in case.   My guy at Starbucks just informed me that it is supposed to occur at 6 p.m. today.  So I have about 40 minutes to write this!  It (being the Rapture) is all very fascinating.  Having been brought up in a non-religious household, I only really know about this event as quoted in Revelation of the Christian Bible and as reported to me by others.  I'm curious about several things.

First, when Rapture occurs, do our bodies leave this current existence along with our souls, or is it simply a matter of our souls leaving?  If it is the latter, there are going to be a LOT of empty bodies lying around for those "left behind" to clean up.   If it is the former, as some of my friends suppose, then yes, it will be a LOT easier to get around in the post-Rapture world.  No lines at the check out.  No lines waiting to get in anywhere.  And it should make driving in formerly congested metropolitan areas a breeze!  Funnily enough, well over 80 percent of my friends are expecting to be "here" after the Rapture.   Obviously the delights of congestion-free living far outweighs the possible delights of the Rapture for them.  I kind of agree with them, though I am firmly waiting to see what if anything happens.   I've got 30 minutes according to Starbucks guy.

There's also the possibility, you know, that the Rapture has been happening in stages.  It could very well be that the man who predicted the Rapture in 1994 was indeed correct!  If you take the premise that the Rapture's happening in stages, it is very possible that a good chunk of the human population disappeared back then. After all, that was before the worldwide coverage of the internet and smartphones and the "no place to hide" world that we have today.   17 years ago it is very possible a large number of people could have been "risen" without the rest of the world knowing. 

So, that could have been Stage 1.   Today, could be Stage 2.    And even tho' it is more tricky to get people "disappeared" these days (as any visiting aliens may have discovered), there are still some remote areas of the world where electronic communication coverage does not exist.   Stage 3 could very well be December 12, 2012 - the end of the Mayan calendar.  Though what the Christians were doing talking with the Mayans - who knows?  At the very least, the Rapture is a fun distraction from the throes of human living.

On the other hand, if it happens, and I'm one of the chosen, and you still have the internet, and you don't hear from me.  Well, it's been fun.  If it happens, and I'm still here afterwards, I'll be curious to see what happens next.   Cheers!

Thank Goodness for Sex Scandals!

Why? They're so titillating, interesting and as long as we're not the named parties, so much fun to watch all the press coverage, and judgment lobbed at these people.  The government must be thrilled to have so much sex on headline news these days.   Well, sex and extreme weather - not that they go together or anything.  The government thrilled?  Why yes.

Sex and weather and reality tv shows.  They've become great distractions from gas prices that are reaching $5/gallon; a national government which is threatening to go into bankruptcy; a national debt which is mind-bogglingly huge;  continued profits by the very companies which inflicted us with a severe recession;  increased layoffs by city and state municipalities; food prices which are spiralling upwards so that some folks can't afford to eat, much less travel to work to pay for the food they can't afford.

The reality tv shows - be they the soap operas of the rich, dance shows, singing shows, dating shows, "how low will you debase yourself for money" shows are all reminiscent of the dance marathons and competitions of the 1930s' Great Depression.  The big difference being that instead of a Dust Bowl, our poor Mid-West is partially drowned and very soggy.  It's also a little like the Romans and their Coliseum.  Keep the public distracted, throw various, carefully selected people to the media outlet wolves. 

I am all for entertainment, and sex certainly sells.  I just wish someone was making more of a concerted effort to see the real life challenges before us - and come up with some concrete, workable plans to alleviate the public's cost of living in today's world.  Distractions do work for a little while - just like sex.  But after that - what next? 

A Morning of Mulch

Yesterday morning, I joined a number of other intrepid souls to help cleanup the center of our little city.  The cleanup basically encompassed picking up trash, loosening dirt underneath sidewalk trees and around the flowering ivy planted underneath, and adding lovely, new mulch.  Mulch is the landscaper's cure-all to making a garden look fresh for Spring. Our scope was limited only by the amount of donated mulch, willing hands and patches of earth. 

The former city center has been hard-hit by economic reverses, the move of the city hall across the river, and the police station to the south end.  Esp. with the recession, there has been a steady loss of  business here, and even the City doesn't seem to be interested in looking after it.  So we did.  Happily, it's not an ugly area.  There's just a lot of litter and somewhat neglected plantings and trees.  All the volunteers brought tools, gloves and muscle.  In return, the organizers brought mulch, litter picker uppers and bags in which to put aforesaid litter.

The donated mulch was fabulous.  There were about 20 large bags for us to use, and we used them all!  The only drawback was that the bags were as stiff as boards!  The bags of mulch must have been at the bottom of a great pile, because not only were they hard with compression, there were ice granules in the middle of each!  Made carrying them about really hard.  I gave up trying after a while, and let the guys show off their superior strength while I made helpful suggestions as I picked up litter. :) 

One of the men, Ted, turned out to have a way of breaking up the blocks of mulch with his bare hands.  Most impressive.  He said they were really cold.  I didn't believe him.  They were!  There was ice in there!  Then he reminded me that way, way back in the early 20th century blocks of ice used to be kept in wood shavings for delivery to home iceboxes.   The wood shavings kept the blocks of ice from melting before they were delivered.   The joys of early refrigeration.  Who knew? 

After about 3 1/2 hours of tidying, mulching, digging, raking and entertaining passing pedestrians, we retired to a local restaurant/coffee shop for some well-earned food, discussion and rest.  Not only was the work satisfying to our souls, it also gave all of us the chance to hang out with some cool folks.  Afterwards, yes.  The mulch really does make the plots of land around the young trees look nice.  And hey, a litter-free street.  Looked really great.  So.  I am a new advocate for the judicious use of fresh mulch in the Spring (and strong hands to break it up if it's frozen!).

 

Magic Sunglasses

I drove to the park the other day to get a solid walk in without neighborhood Andrettis threatening my well-being or choking me with diesel exhaust fumes.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue with a number of wispy clouds floating overhead, and the temperature was perfect.  As I drove in to the parking area, I happened to glance up, and nearly fell out of the car. 

Up in the sky was the most delightful smear of cloud reaching from one side to the other, full of color.  It's not a rainbow, it was a huge smear of color.  The greens, amythests and yellows were all reminiscent of the delicate colors found in fluorite crystals.  Yet they were strong enough to stand out against the sky.

This particular cloud was different from those around it.  It was the only one with color.  I looked all over.  No.  This one was special.  It was as though a fragment of the northern aurora borelis had torn off, and been blown down to my part of the world.  It was very delicate, yet the colors were distinct and beautiful.  I was curious though why only I seemed enchanted with this sky display.  There were lots of folks about, the weather guaranteed that.  But no one seemed to see the colors.   After all, many folks will stop for a rainbow, why weren't they stopping for this colorful cloud? 

Could it simply be my sunglasses?  So I removed them.  Instantly, the depth of color disappeared.  The color was still there in the cloud, just very faint.  Actually, they didn't disappear totally, it's just that whatever "they" do to sunglasses to protect our eyes, magnified and deepened the colors present in the cloud.   Sunglasses back on, the colors reappeared! Cool!  On, off.  On, off.  Magic glasses! 

Just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating - after all, anything's possible. :)  I asked a woman walking by in her sunglasses if she saw the colors.  She looked up, and stopped dead.  She had magic glasses, too!  Then when I explained, she peeked without her glasses and confirmed that the colors faded away.  The colorful cloud stayed around for a while, then gradually shredded away into the blue sky.

So there you have it.  Sunglasses are magic.  At least, mine were on Friday.  Beautiful.