There are things that I think about that blow my mind. Things that I stay up until 2 in the morning wondering. I toss, and turn, and try to turn off my brain, to no avail. Do other people wonder these things too? Ah, one more thing to wonder about! Here are a few of my recent ponderings...
1)Don't those people on American Idol have someone in their life that loves them enough to tell them not to audition? Just one person? Mother, sibling, teacher...anyone???? And why don't the auditioners solicit public opinion on their way to the audition? If it were me I would be asking every stranger on the subway if I sounded decent--- just to make sure I didn't end up as the next bad audition superstar!
2) Low rise jeans and short shirts. Why do so many girls and women wear them, and not seem to notice that their bellies are exposed? Did they look in a mirror? If so, did they think they, "Yeah, that's just the amount of belly fat exposure I was looking for."? Do they not have a mirror that shows them more than just their faces, or are they so self confident that they just don't care? I will always wonder about these self-depricating wardrobe choices, and as with the American Idol failures, where is their "someone"? The one who loves them enough?
3) You know those pictures of the solar system in text books? It occurs to me that we live on one of those spheres, suspended in space, surrounded by nothing but black vastness. How is it that we are just living life on a blue marble? That when I look through a telescope and see planets- I am seeing another version of where I live. If there were people living on, Uranus for example, well, I am living on the thing that the Uranians look at in their telescopes. This place where I live is in some other planet's sky, just as Mars is in my sky!! Mind blowing! Oh, and not for nothing, but "Yay gravity! I love you. You're one of my favorite forces."
4)Speaking of space...the shuttles are cool, and the whole mission to Mars...missions to the moon...International Space Station. All have major cool points in my book, but what exactly are we going up there for? I have never understood it, but it must be something important because brave people are willing to die for it.
5)I would feel better if there were a real Dr. Gregory House; a mad genius doctor who can differentiate almost any diagnosis. According to Web MD I have a few possibly terminal illnesses, but none of them fit me just right. My fear of irony tells me that if I am to get ill, it will be with one of those terrible, whacky diseases or infections that would make doctors bring in med students to use me as a teaching opportunity. It's never good when doctors gather other doctors just to check you out- like some sort of sick theme park attraction. So, if Dr. House were real, he could figure me out. Possibly.
6) Why does denim get a bad rap? It is outlawed at many workplaces, and deemed too casual to be appropriate attire. But why? Is it not a fabric like any other...? I have seen lovely denim trousers, and jean skirts that are so adorable. We need to find a way to reclaim denim. If not for me, then for all of those poor home school moms in their denim, floor length jumpers. It has been discriminated against for too long.
From loving them enough to tell them the ugly truth, to contemplating the galaxies, to how much unfair treatment denim clothes receive, my brain keeps me busy. Occasionally I think of things that are actually important. But often, its just me thinking about things like this, or how I can purchase a small island nation in order to make Pig Latin a national dialect. I think a Pig Roman Empire sounds delightful, and Pig Rome, the obvious name for my island nation, would be paradise. And it would be quiet, so I would be able to do a lot of thinking there.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
My brother
I can't imagine our family without my brother. He is kind of what makes us interesting. He still lives in Maine, and I miss him. I wish we were closer... in a lot of ways. Charlie is a mystery to me. I think he always has been. I love him endlessly, and I look up to him in a way that I can't really explain, except to say that he is my big brother. I am funny, but he is funnier. I am smart, but he is smarter. I wish I had the courage to bend some rules and have some adventure in my life, like I think that he did, but I never had it in me.
As a kid, everything that he did was cool in my eyes. In high school he had this awesome collection of music. So cool. I used to sneak into his room to look at his stacks of cassettes in his desk drawer: The Beastie Boys, Billy Joel, Bob Marley, James Taylor. He has the quickest wit, and is very sensitive and insightful, and I think he is probably the smartest person I know. This fact was impressed upon me when playing Trivial Pursuit with him about fifteen years ago. I think he got every single answer right. Literally. The one answer that stuck in my head was that he knew that Rudyard Kipling is the poet who, though Educated in England, was born in Bombay. Who knows that just out of the blue? He is very philosophical, and I love the way his brain works. It was a potential source of torment, at times, for my mother whose brain works almost completely in retrograde of his...but even that was terrifyingly cool to me. While I dreaded the dinners where Charlie would push my mom's buttons, like asking how to get his status changed to "deceased" to avoid repaying student loans, I also watched in awe and amazement at how it all just sort of amused him.
Charlie turned out different from my sister and I. She and I are alike in that we really didn't question things our parents told us, things about life, faith, citizenship...but my brother challenged them all. At our cores, we share the same values, but express them so differently. My brother is a bit of a hippie. He was "green" before being green was trendy. He balks at consumerism, in fact, my mom bought him a Red Sox shirt once for his birthday, and had to return it because it was made by Nike and had their small, signature, swoosh symbol on it. He didn't care for being a walking advertisement for a large conglomerate like Nike.
We're all grown up now, and I suppose even middle aged, but Charlie is still inexplicably cool in my eyes. He is a talented artist, and story teller, and a good family man. He likes jazz, and taught himself to play guitar. I can picture him now, picking at is guitar on my parents porch while the summer sun is setting; his dirty bare feet keeping the rhythm on the pine wood boards, and an occasionally off tune melody on his lips.
Yep, that's my brother. I have always sort of just watched him from a distance, admiring things in him that I never saw in myself. At the same time, I completely identify with him and feel we are kindred spirits. So, we are back to my big brother being a mystery to me. A mystery that I love, and have always wanted to be so much more like.
As a kid, everything that he did was cool in my eyes. In high school he had this awesome collection of music. So cool. I used to sneak into his room to look at his stacks of cassettes in his desk drawer: The Beastie Boys, Billy Joel, Bob Marley, James Taylor. He has the quickest wit, and is very sensitive and insightful, and I think he is probably the smartest person I know. This fact was impressed upon me when playing Trivial Pursuit with him about fifteen years ago. I think he got every single answer right. Literally. The one answer that stuck in my head was that he knew that Rudyard Kipling is the poet who, though Educated in England, was born in Bombay. Who knows that just out of the blue? He is very philosophical, and I love the way his brain works. It was a potential source of torment, at times, for my mother whose brain works almost completely in retrograde of his...but even that was terrifyingly cool to me. While I dreaded the dinners where Charlie would push my mom's buttons, like asking how to get his status changed to "deceased" to avoid repaying student loans, I also watched in awe and amazement at how it all just sort of amused him.
Charlie turned out different from my sister and I. She and I are alike in that we really didn't question things our parents told us, things about life, faith, citizenship...but my brother challenged them all. At our cores, we share the same values, but express them so differently. My brother is a bit of a hippie. He was "green" before being green was trendy. He balks at consumerism, in fact, my mom bought him a Red Sox shirt once for his birthday, and had to return it because it was made by Nike and had their small, signature, swoosh symbol on it. He didn't care for being a walking advertisement for a large conglomerate like Nike.
We're all grown up now, and I suppose even middle aged, but Charlie is still inexplicably cool in my eyes. He is a talented artist, and story teller, and a good family man. He likes jazz, and taught himself to play guitar. I can picture him now, picking at is guitar on my parents porch while the summer sun is setting; his dirty bare feet keeping the rhythm on the pine wood boards, and an occasionally off tune melody on his lips.
Yep, that's my brother. I have always sort of just watched him from a distance, admiring things in him that I never saw in myself. At the same time, I completely identify with him and feel we are kindred spirits. So, we are back to my big brother being a mystery to me. A mystery that I love, and have always wanted to be so much more like.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
A thankful heart
I have decided that there is little in life as beautiful as a thankful heart. It doesn't matter if it is your four year old thanking you for making play dough cookies with her, or your two year old's squeaky high pitched, "Thanks" after you wash his two stickiest fingers for the thousandth time at dinner. True thanks is a beautiful thing.
Most of the people that I know are surrounded by things to be thankful for, and I think that if we would just set our minds on looking for them rather than looking past them, that we would be amazed at what we would see.
If we looked for things to be thankful for, most of us would find family. True, it won't be a perfect one, but that's just because there is no such thing. Perhaps it is a family full of people who mean well, but get too pushy. Who don't ask the right questions about our job, or our lives, or who simply act like they don't care about either one. Maybe its a family that is too loud around the dinner table, or tells too many embarrassing stories. Or perhaps, it is a broken family, and times around the dinner table are not noisy enough because there are too few people, and not enough to talk about that won't bring up painful memories. But, nonetheless, there is family. For this we should be thankful. For the fact that we are not alone in the world. Most of us, despite the lack of perfection, have people that would call us there own and would be there for us in a pinch. No matter how strange, or estranged, nothing compares to having a family.
Most of us also have jobs to be thankful for. True, we may have to tilt our heads a little bit to the right, and squint just so, in order to see the great things we have at work, but a job is a blessing. In this current economy, maybe more of us are thankful for that than at this time five years ago, but still it is something we may complain about more than express thanks for. I know, it might be a job, and not a career. It might be a way to pay our bills, rather than follow our bliss. We might be overworked and underpaid, and vastly under-appreciated. Maybe it a part time job when we were promised full time, or a full time job with part time pay, and less benefits than we would want. But, there is work for our hands to do. Work that gives our lives some sense of purpose, and belonging, and value. Work that provides us the money we need to feed and clothe our families, and leave ever such a small amount left over for a teeny bit of fun.
A man's home is his castle, and most of us have homes for which to be thankful. Maybe not our dream homes, but homes just the same. Perhaps it is an apartment with noisy neighbors on all sides, or a home that has had a for sale sign in the yard for two years now, and just won't catch a bite on the market. Maybe its not beach front, lake front, or on a cul de sac. Maybe it even has the carpet ripped up in the back bedroom, and only three walls painted because we ran out of money to finish fixing it up. Even so, we have a safe space in which to place our belongings and lay our heads at night. When the winter wind whips cold outside, and the rain throws itself at us from all sides; we have shelter. When the stress of work, school, carpool, doctor appointments, and long lines at the grocery store are all more than we can bear; we have that safe, quiet place of refuge called home. The place where we are most comfortable, most ourselves, and most happy to be. The place where we can wear sweats, bathrobes, slippers, or nothing at all.
I think there should be a forum for "regular people" to give thanks. I know we have Thanksgiving, but who are we kidding? That has pretty much gotten to be all about the turkey and football these days. I am not a famous and talented actress, so I will never win an Academy Award and get the chance to say thanks in front of the world. But, even so, I would like to thanks to the not so "little people" in my life.
I would like to thank God for His mercy, grace, and providence in my life. I would like to thank my parents for, among other things, having three children instead of two, and my sister and brother for all the fun times and friendship. I would like to thank Jayme for loving me even when I am borderline crazy and want to have long conversations at midnight, and my kids for being the funniest people I have ever known. I would like to thank my aunts and uncles, and cousins that I love and almost never see, for being some of those people that would call me their own and be there for me in a pinch. Oh, and my precious friends. I would like to thank you most of all. For making me laugh, and for laughing with me. For filling the huge gap in my life that I have had for so many years being so far from home. You are more than just people to go to the movies with. You are my immediate source of strength, joy, and perseverance. If ever a person could say their friends are their family, I can. Thank you all. Thank you God, for my abundant life. There is little in life as beautiful as a thankful heart.
Most of the people that I know are surrounded by things to be thankful for, and I think that if we would just set our minds on looking for them rather than looking past them, that we would be amazed at what we would see.
If we looked for things to be thankful for, most of us would find family. True, it won't be a perfect one, but that's just because there is no such thing. Perhaps it is a family full of people who mean well, but get too pushy. Who don't ask the right questions about our job, or our lives, or who simply act like they don't care about either one. Maybe its a family that is too loud around the dinner table, or tells too many embarrassing stories. Or perhaps, it is a broken family, and times around the dinner table are not noisy enough because there are too few people, and not enough to talk about that won't bring up painful memories. But, nonetheless, there is family. For this we should be thankful. For the fact that we are not alone in the world. Most of us, despite the lack of perfection, have people that would call us there own and would be there for us in a pinch. No matter how strange, or estranged, nothing compares to having a family.
Most of us also have jobs to be thankful for. True, we may have to tilt our heads a little bit to the right, and squint just so, in order to see the great things we have at work, but a job is a blessing. In this current economy, maybe more of us are thankful for that than at this time five years ago, but still it is something we may complain about more than express thanks for. I know, it might be a job, and not a career. It might be a way to pay our bills, rather than follow our bliss. We might be overworked and underpaid, and vastly under-appreciated. Maybe it a part time job when we were promised full time, or a full time job with part time pay, and less benefits than we would want. But, there is work for our hands to do. Work that gives our lives some sense of purpose, and belonging, and value. Work that provides us the money we need to feed and clothe our families, and leave ever such a small amount left over for a teeny bit of fun.
A man's home is his castle, and most of us have homes for which to be thankful. Maybe not our dream homes, but homes just the same. Perhaps it is an apartment with noisy neighbors on all sides, or a home that has had a for sale sign in the yard for two years now, and just won't catch a bite on the market. Maybe its not beach front, lake front, or on a cul de sac. Maybe it even has the carpet ripped up in the back bedroom, and only three walls painted because we ran out of money to finish fixing it up. Even so, we have a safe space in which to place our belongings and lay our heads at night. When the winter wind whips cold outside, and the rain throws itself at us from all sides; we have shelter. When the stress of work, school, carpool, doctor appointments, and long lines at the grocery store are all more than we can bear; we have that safe, quiet place of refuge called home. The place where we are most comfortable, most ourselves, and most happy to be. The place where we can wear sweats, bathrobes, slippers, or nothing at all.
I think there should be a forum for "regular people" to give thanks. I know we have Thanksgiving, but who are we kidding? That has pretty much gotten to be all about the turkey and football these days. I am not a famous and talented actress, so I will never win an Academy Award and get the chance to say thanks in front of the world. But, even so, I would like to thanks to the not so "little people" in my life.
I would like to thank God for His mercy, grace, and providence in my life. I would like to thank my parents for, among other things, having three children instead of two, and my sister and brother for all the fun times and friendship. I would like to thank Jayme for loving me even when I am borderline crazy and want to have long conversations at midnight, and my kids for being the funniest people I have ever known. I would like to thank my aunts and uncles, and cousins that I love and almost never see, for being some of those people that would call me their own and be there for me in a pinch. Oh, and my precious friends. I would like to thank you most of all. For making me laugh, and for laughing with me. For filling the huge gap in my life that I have had for so many years being so far from home. You are more than just people to go to the movies with. You are my immediate source of strength, joy, and perseverance. If ever a person could say their friends are their family, I can. Thank you all. Thank you God, for my abundant life. There is little in life as beautiful as a thankful heart.
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