2015--So Long. Thanks for the Memories

2015 was definitely a roller coaster of a year. I had some really poor experiences and some really amazing ones. I started out the year sick with a cold. I didn't know it then, but a sweet e-card from a co-worker would be the start of a really nice friendship that blossomed throughout the year. I got stung by a bee in March...on a bus of all places...and that took at least a month to finally go back to normal. Then there was my kidney stone surgery. Not something I would recommend. A lot of pain and a longer recovery than I had expected. Here's to hoping that 2016 has better health issues for me and my loved ones.

Then at the end of June this happened. The death of poor Charles, my 2003 Subaru Forester, thanks to a lady in a rental car on a cell phone. Thankfully Eric was not injured and the car was the only thing severely damaged. It did mean 5 months of walking and enduring Los Angeles Public Transportation but it was an experience.

Right after Charles, we rented a car and brought home Vann. Chaplin needed a companion and Blair needed peace from the young kitty we had gotten last year. Vann stayed in the closet for 10 days when we first got him here, but he has emerged as a very loving, social cat and he and the Shmoo love playing and Blair loves the peace and quiet.

In August I had my first "bucket list" experience of the year. I got to go to Disneyland, and thanks to some great friends, got to have dinner at Club 33. Kind of amazing to think that I took a bus to and from one of the most exclusive restaurants in the World. 

Then in September (a little after our official anniversary), Eric took me to Fabio Viviani's restaurant, Cafe Firenze, in Moorpark. Again, I rented a car to go to an unforgettable meal that the executive chef himself picked out for us. It was so nice to be treated like a VIP just because Eric had had a 10 minute interview with Fabio last year. 

In October, the insurance payment came through and I bought Alain. He is completely what I did not expect. Nissan, black in color, sedan, and relatively new. The buying experience was not pleasant but I am happy with what I ended up with. We took Alain for a drive down PCH and saw a beautiful sunset. Nice way to break in a new car.

Then in November I got to go to a cooking demonstration by Hugh Acheson. I had seen him on Top Chef and fallen in love with his personality and his monobrow. I even got to chat with him a bit before the demo started when he needed to buy a new gold spoon. I mentioned at the time that this was probably in the top 10 of my greatest experiences. He did a simple recipe, was easy going, funny,  charming and the soup he made was fantastic. I also learned a few things that I can now use in my own cooking.

Plus I got a signed cookbook to add to my collection.

So that's just a quick glance of what 2015 offered me. There was also some major relationship issues, fights, infidelity, and a trip to Chicago I wasn't sure I was going to come home from. But all these were learning experiences and part of what makes me who I am. We've been in California for 2 years now. We're better off than we were in 2014, but, as with lots of things, we could be better.

In 2016 I plan to give up all my Sagas on my phone. No more candy crushing, pepper panicking, papa pear throwing, pet rescuing, bubble bursting or anything else King thinks I should play. I will continue with Angry Birds and Words with Friends, but that will be about it. I plan on reading more, hiking in the mountains (foothills) that surround L.A. and perfecting a song or two on my guitar. I also want to eat healthier and watch less TV. I want to continue growing friendships, and reaching out to those friends who I've strayed from in the past few years. I also want to write more, cook more, and maybe take a vacation for the first time in 10 years. 

Happy New Year everyone!

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 14--Your life in 7 years

Ugh. The dreaded where do you see yourself in the future? I hate this question in job interviews and I hate this question now. Is it because I don't have any goals? No. Is it because I don't look too far in the future? Maybe. Now I don't know about anyone else, but my life certainly hasn't been what I thought it would be. I grew up thinking I would go to college, get married, have kids and all that stuff. I did go to college, but haven't done the marriage and/or kid thing. Are there days I miss that? Sure. I'm trying to be happy with where I am in life right now. In 7 years I'd like to be wealthier, healthier and I know I'll be wiser. Every year, hell, every day is a new learning experience for me. As for the wealth, I don't need much. I'd just like to have some extra money around in case I'd like to go on a trip, or have an unexpected car repair, or if I want to eat at a really fancy restaurant. Am I complaining about the life I have now. No, not at all. I'm content. Content in my place in the world, content in my job, content in my relationship. Could it be better? Of course it could. I don't think anyone has the perfect life. Even if they say they do. I like to set short term goals however and 7 years, although time moves more quickly the older I get, seems like a long time from now. So, I'm hoping my life will be as it is today. I hope to have a few good friends who I can talk to about anything, I hope I find something to laugh or smile about every day, I hope to have a relationship that is happy (maybe even be married), and I hope to keep finding things to write about and to learn every day.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 13--Your commute to and from work

My commute to and from work has become much easier in the past month now that I have a new car. I had a 2003 Subaru Forester that I bought back in Chicago, in February, during a snowstorm. I LOVED that car. His name was Charles and he served me well. Taking me to horse shows, to Florida for a couple of years, and back when I needed to come home to Chicago. It also got us here to California, although there were times in the mountains of Colorado that I thought we were never going to make it. Charles was totaled in an accident back at the end of June and it took awhile for us to get the settlement. In Los Angeles, it takes at least 2 months to get an accident report due to the amount of accidents that happen here every day. So for the 3 months that I was sans car, save the few times I rented one, my commute was not exactly difficult, it was just long. I had to walk or take 2 buses to a subway station, from that station I had to get on another bus that would drop me off about a mile from work and I would walk the rest of the way. It was usually crowded, hot, and I'd have to leave a couple of hours before I was supposed to be at work just to get there on time. It was good exercise and all in all, it was probably a little less expensive, but I wasn't a fan.

Now that I'm back with a car full-time, the commute is a little more enjoyable. I leave my apartment building around 7:15am (earlier if I pick up a co-worker or have to get gas or hear about an accident on the news), and decide whether or not someone will be nice enough to let me turn left out of our driveway and wait in the line of cars to get on the 101 freeway. If no one is budging, I turn right and go around the block which usually takes less time than waiting in line. Then I go up the ramp and wait at the light to merge with the traffic heading through Hollywood. This part is usually smooth, although lately, there have been some major back-ups at Sunset. I pass the Church of Scientology, the Capitol Records building, the nice homes in the Hollywood Hills and head up the Cahuenga pass. Then it's downhill past Universal Studios Hollywood and time to merge with the people coming off the 134. It's at that point that we slow down. Majorly. I have a setting on my car where I can see my average speed and it's between 13 and 15 mph. But it's ok. I listen to the radio, or to a podcast. This is the longest part of my commute through the valley. It clears up a little at the 405 split, but then once we get to the Encino exit, we're at stop and go traffic again. I get off the 101 either at Winnetka (if I want to stop at Starbucks), or DeSoto and head to work. Once I'm off the freeway it's only about 5 minutes past the hospital where I had my kidney stone surgery, and past many apartment buildings and some office buildings to work. I go to my designated parking space and I'm usually done driving until the day is over. The reverse commute is about the same time, sometimes longer. Now that Daylight Savings Time is over, I am always amazed at the number of people that don't turn on their headlights, even though it is dark when we leave work. I usually listen to a podcast on the way home, and mostly pay attention to traffic. I will say that one of the malls around here has put up a Christmas tree that actually "sparkles" which is kind of neat. I enjoy looking at that and also at the sign that tells me how long the commute will be to downtown, which gives me a good idea of when I'll be home. Sometimes I stop at the grocery store or for a quick fast food dinner on the way home.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 12--Two words/phrases that make you giggle

You may have noticed that I skipped Day 11. I did it for a reason which I will explain at the end of the challenge, so you'll just have to be patient and wait.

One word that makes me giggle is not even a real word. If any of you have seen the classic "Carol Burnett Show" clip where Tim Conway is telling his Siamese Elephant story then you'll know the word I'm talking about. He makes a noise that the elephants would make when they tried to trumpet. The first time I saw this with my step-father he and I cracked up about it. Now that he's gone, whenever I hear the word "knorka" (at least that's what we called it), I smile and remember the man and the great times we had together. I have included the link to the clip for those of you who have not seen it so you can laugh along with us.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qqE_WmagjY

Most of the Monty Python quotes also make me giggle or laugh but that's almost too many to list and probably a very popular choice.

I suppose another word or words that make me giggle is baba ganoush. Mostly because I always feel the need to yell it out loud, putting the emphasis on the OUSH part at the end. I don't know why I started yelling it but I always do and again, it always makes me smile. Even when I see it on a menu, I yell it out loud in my head.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 10--A fruit you dislike and why

Prunes. I dislike prunes. It's strange because I'm a big fan of plums, but dry them out and I just don't like them. I don't like the texture, I don't like the taste. I don't like prune juice. Anything associated with prunes. Does this go back to ageism and I think prunes are just something older people like and eat? I don't know. I like lots of dried fruits like raisins and cranberries. I even don't mind apricots, fresh or dried. It's just something about the prune that makes me turn my nose up.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 9--Your Feelings on Ageism

Feelings on ageism. Not sure that I have many feelings about it. I know it exists, but I'm not sure that it's as prevalent as other issues such as sexism or racism. I am getting older, but it hasn't really stopped me yet from doing what I want to accomplish. I am still able to get a job, I keep up with current events so I can talk to my younger co-workers and in a way, I think my age is an asset rather than a deterrent.

I now live in Hollywood and lately, some of the actresses here are saying once they reach a certain age then they are looked over for certain roles because they are too old. Is that really the case? I mean, aren't scripts written like screenplays with certain characters in mind and those characters should be of the age that the screenwriter had imagined. I mean, you're not going to cast Meryl Streep in The Hunger Games and no one would take Anna Kendrick seriously in a role meant for someone older. So I don't think they have a legitimate beef. Sure, some actors and actresses can play any role, but we all age and we need to accept that.

Isn't there a reason that the President of the United States has to be 35 years old? Do you want some 18 year old running the country? Wisdom comes with age as should views and ideas of ageism.

Day 8--A book you love and one you didn't

Boy, I am about a week behind on these. My fault. Just doing to much during the day/evening and then being too tired to write, but I'm going to catch up today.

Asking me to pick one book I love is like asking a parent to pick a favorite child, but since it just says "a" book, I suppose out of the thousands I do love, that I can pick one. The one I didn't is probably easier, but I'll do them in order.

One of the books I love and have always loved is actually a collection of short stories by Pam Houston called "Cowboys Are My Weakness" published in 1992. She hasn't written much since this one but these are so good, she really didn't have to. These stories are great for single girls or women to read. They have adventure, romance, humor--everything that I was looking for at the time. My Mom told me about the book, as my parents taught me about lots of authors I ended up enjoying. What I like about them is that it's intelligent women looking for men. I had just graduated from college when this came out and it was perfect for me at the time because I was working at a riding stable. I have often reread this book and it always brings a smile to my face.

I was an English major in college so I read a lot of books. Some of them I liked, some I was really not a fan of. One of those books was "The Brothers Karamazov"by Dostoevsky. Could be that I was taking a Russian literature course where we read "War and Peace", "Anna Karenina" and "The Brothers Karamazov" all in the same semester (along with some other short stories). These books are long and everyone is named Vronsky, or Viktor or some V name and it's hard to keep track of the characters. Now I had already read the poem contained within the book "The Grand Inquisitor" and wasn't a fan of the poem either. Funny thing about me not liking this book though was that my best friend at the time thought it was the greatest book she had ever read and when I told her I didn't like it she told me to "take it back." Well, it was my opinion so I didn't take it back. Maybe that's why we're not best friends anymore. But anyway, I find most Russian literature dark, long and boring. It also doesn't know when to end. They seem to write another 300 pages after what I would see as the ending, just because they can. I mean, maybe there was nothing else to do during the long Russian winters. And I know Dostoevsky wrote it as a "serial" so maybe he just wanted to keep his readers before he thought of something else to write. Anyway, it's not my favorite. Whereas I would pick up "Cowboys Are My Weakness" anytime...I would probably only pick up "The Brothers Karamozov" again if I was forced to.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 7--What tattoos you have and if they have meaning

This day was easy because I wrote about my tattoos a few years ago and explained their meanings. So I'm just going to re-print it below. I have gotten another tattoo since then. A bit with reins around my arm because of lifelong love of horses.

I remember when I first decided to get a tattoo. A real tattoo. It was New Year's Eve 1996. I worked at a place where you had to go into work on New Year's Eve but you got to leave early. Some co-workers of mine were planning on grabbing an early drink before heading to various parties. I figured the place they were going was on the way to the 'el' so I tagged along. Well one pitcher of beer led to a few more and before I knew it, it was 8pm and they were planning on hitting another bar. I was out of money but wanted to wait until 9 when the CTA offered penny rides home. One of the women I worked with stopped for a bathroom break and brought us all temporary tattoos that you could buy from a vending machine in the ladies room. She had chosen a tiger for me, since I had gone to the University of Missouri. I placed the tiger on the upper portion of my left breast. I thought it looked good at the time, but again, my judgement might have been a little off. 9:00 came and I hopped on the 'el' with balloons tied to my head, and the tiger still on my chest.

The next day I took a shower and as I looked at the temporary tattoo before I washed it off I thought it looked good. I decided not to wash it off and to live with it for a few days to see if this was something I really wanted. When it finally started to peel about 3 days later, I reluctantly washed it clean. After the shower and looking in the mirror, I missed having something there. 

At this time I was dating a guy who was a biker, and happened to have a large panther tattoo on his arm. He had gotten that tattoo at Lyle Tuttle's tattoo shop in San Francisco. For those of you who don't know, Lyle Tuttle is one of the tattooing Gods. His store has been around long before the boys of Miami Ink or Kat Von D were even born. It just so happened that the company I worked for was having their Annual Meeting in San Francisco in August. I knew that's where I would get my first tattoo.

August finally arrived and I was still determined to get my tattoo. I would be at the meeting for 5 days and even though I would have to work days, I would have one afternoon and most of my evenings free. I told some, ok, most of the people I was traveling with that I was going to get a tattoo and they didn't believe me. My co-worker and good friend Jackie said she would go with me. I already knew what I was going to get. A Native American bear fetish with a heartline running through it on my left breast. (Right where the tiger had been). The bear fetish represents strength and wisdom which I thought was appropriate for everything I had been through in my life up until that point. I decided to get it on my breast so I could still hide it at work. So Jackie and I hopped on a cable car and ended up at Lyle Tuttle's. Lyle wasn't there that night but a very nice woman was. She asked if she could help us. Jackie turned and said "her...not me." I told her what I wanted and she looked through some of her books to find it. She found a design that I liked and she told me to sit down. She asked if this was my first tattoo. I said yes. She said, "Well, I'm sure people have told you that it hurts." I nodded. "It doesn't really. Feels more like a bee sting and you get used to it." I was nervous, but tried to relax. She put paper towels around my shirt so as not to get ink on it, and placed the template on my chest. She asked if that position was ok. I told her yes and we got started. She was very gentle. She explained that the closer to bone, the more it would hurt. That was true. As she got near my sternum, it hurt more than when she was around the fleshy part of my breast. In about 30 to 45 minutes she was finished. Jackie said she liked it. I said I liked it...probably still dizzy from the excitement of actually getting something permanent on my body. The tattoo got bandaged, I got my little card explaining the after-care procedures and Jackie and I went to dinner. It was a little sore, but not too bad. When I got back to the hotel, I took off the bandage, and washed the tattoo gently with soap and water. I still have the t-shirt that I wore to bed that night, which still has the ink impression of my bear on it. 

The next day people at the meeting asked why I got it where I did. Someone even said "Why didn't you get it on your ass so no one will see it?" I told her "Well then Iwouldn't be able to see it." Some people thought it was neat. Some people thought I was crazy. I was still in love. When I got back to work, the story of my tattoo had spread and I told everyone it was fun, didn't really hurt, and that it was the only one I was going to get. 

I was wrong.

I know that tattoos have become more mainstream and less "outlaw" these days. I can still look professional and hide all my tattoos. I never told my mother that I got the tattoo because I was afraid of her reaction, and now I have a memorial tattoo for her. I have gotten tattoos in Chicago and at a party in Northbrook. Most of my tattoos have come from trips to London, England, where I have been tattooed by a lanky teenager from Manchester, who spent the whole time with his tongue hanging out, a chain smoking Italian and a Dane. I have been tattooed by women and men. I have been watched while I have been tattooed and been photographed for an artists portfolio. 

What shocks me is that some people get tattoos for the wrong reason. My best friend used to threaten to get a tattoo just because her fiance' said she wouldn't. That is not a reason to get something etched onto your body permanently. Each and every one of my tattoos mean something. The bear on my breast represents my life, the flowers tattooed on my right foot represent beauty. The horse on my right outside ankle, and on my right bicep represent my love for horses. The horse on my lower back is more of a spiritual horse. The bear claw on my left shoulder along with the ring of bears around my left ankle continue my life story of strength and wisdom. The cat on my left ankle represents my love for cats. 

My memorial tattoos include angel cats by one of my mother's favorite artists, B. Klieban. They are on my right shoulder because I have a birthmark there from pressing against her body while in the womb. The elk (no it's not a moose), on my left bicep is for my step-father because we had a long-going joke that elk don't exist. It's on my left arm because he was left handed. There are 11 points on his antlers because his birthday was December 11. The owl on my left thigh is for my father. My father was very wise and passed it down to me. He also had a collection of owls for many years. It is a snowy owl due to "Hedwig" in "Harry Potter" because my father introduced me to the "Harry Potter" novels. It's on my left thigh because he used to call me thunder thighs when I was younger. It's on the left side because the left side is where my heart is.

I have two other tattoos. I have a disgruntled bunny on the inside of my right ankle...just because I liked it when I saw it on the wall of "flash" in a tattoo parlor in London. It is also because I am often disgruntled and have the same face and blue eyes the bunny does. 

The final tattoo might be the only one I am not too proud of. It was sort of a joke, which I agree is the wrong reason to get a tattoo. But that one is on my ass and is hidden and only a few special people get to see it. But it still means something. Still is part of the "story" written on my body. 

Twelve years and twelve more tattoos later I still love my first tattoo. I will admit, that over the years, the bear has sagged a bit and sometimes looks more like a giraffe. (I'll let you figure out the visual on that). I am planning on getting another tattoo. I don't know when, but I do know where and what it is going to be. It will have deep, personal meaning to me and it will, like all the others, tell a story.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 6--Someone who fascinates you and why

I just looked up the definition of fascinating (fascinate) and it says "extremely interesting or charming" which I believe is selling it a bit short. I would think that would be admiring rather than fascinating, because if  that's the definition then I find lots of people fascinating.  Now another definition I found of "fascinate" was to attract and hold attentively by a unique power, personal charm,unusual nature, or some other special quality; enthrall and that's more of what I think of when asked about someone who fascinates me. But I'm going to name a general group of people who fascinate me because it was the first thing that popped into my head when this subject was listed and you should always go with your first instinct or feeling (or so I've been told).

The group of people I find fascinating is those people who choose to run for President of the United States. (Now, I will say I keep my politics very private so if I mention someone specific, it does not mean that he/she holds my same political view---I am just using them as an example.)  So why this group of people? Because I couldn't imagine a worse job. How can you have such an ego to believe that you can run the country and decide for EVERYONE what the rules should be? You have to be a complete narcissist, yet hide that to think of the betterment of everyone rather than just yourself. You have to have a thick skin to deal with all the negativity and you can't let all the positive comments go to your head either. I don't think that's how the Founding Fathers started out thinking about this position but that's what it has become. Ronald Reagan made sense to me because he was an actor, Al Gore was brave enough to tell people that he invented the internet. Donald Trump is running because nothing is more important to him than Donald Trump. Sure, somewhere--deep down, these people want to help, think that they can make the country a better place than the last President did and they have great speech writers who allow them to say the words that they think we want to hear. Why do you think Hillary stood by Bill Clinton after he was messing around with anything wearing a skirt? It was because it was a power move for her. If she had left him, she wouldn't have been as powerful (in some people's eyes) and then she couldn't go try to be President herself.

I'm just fascinated by these types of people. I'm fascinated by the fact that they want to do it...I'm fascinated by the fact that some of them do do it, and I'm fascinated by the process they have to go through to do it.  They all do have their own form of unique power, personal charm, unusual nature or some other special quality. They don't exactly enthrall me but they do make me pause and think.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 5--A Place You Would Live, But Have Never Visited

There are lots of places I would live that I have never visited. I think number one on the list would be Italy. I love "Under the Tuscan Sun" and would love to have an adventure like that. I've also heard great things about Italy, the different regions, the different foods...it all sounds wonderful to me. I would also live in New Zealand. The pictures I have seen are gorgeous! Also, my ancestry is from Norway so I would live there. I'd have to learn the language but I think I could do that. I would have to be near water though so I probably wouldn't head to the desert.

It's funny to think of living in a place I've never visited, but I have to say that the first time I went to England, I fell in love. I could have stayed there with no problems. It's also a bit strange because I was always seen as someone who didn't like change. My parents didn't take me on a trip to Hawaii when I was younger because I said I preferred being at home. But in my lifetime, I have moved an average of every 2 and a half years, sure some were within the same state, but it was still uprooting and starting new.

When I met my current boyfriend I said I would never move to California, yet, here I am. I had only been to Los Angeles once, on a business trip before, never been to Pasadena or Hollywood for that matter, and now I have lived in both. I also thought I would never live in Florida, but I lived there for a bit. I wasn't a big fan of it, but that's the nice thing about how we live these days. You can easily move from place to place. No covered wagons, not much disease and you can be in a different country in a matter of hours. It's exciting discovering new places. There are always new restaurants to eat at, new places to travel to, new people to meet.  I think home is a place where you feel comfortable not necessarily a geographic location.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 4--10 Interesting Facts About Yourself

Talking about myself...something I'm not very good at, so I'm just going to list these facts and maybe elaborate them on another occasion.

1. I am an avid reader and have over 3,000 lbs of books.

2. I've been riding horses and motorcycles since I was 5 years old.

3. I have a B.A. in English and have had jobs in retail, motorcycles, horses, computers, advertising, non-profit organizations, and music.

4. I still sleep with a stuffed animal I received my junior year in high school.

5. I have never broken a bone in my body.

6. My favorite recipes to cook are ones from my great-grandmother, mother and father, it makes me feel closer to them now that they are gone.

7. I have read (and UNDERSTOOD), the Canterbury Tales in Middle English and Beowulf in Old English.

8. I am very opinionated, but not very political or religious.

9. I am the only one in my immediate family who does not have a drinking problem.

10. Football is my favorite sport but I always fantasized about being married to a PGA golfer.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 3--Your first love and first kiss

I was a late bloomer and didn't have my first real kiss until the week before I left for college. Yes, I was one of those high school girls who had "never been kissed." Sure I had gone out on a few dates in  Jr. High and high school, but I never went to prom and never had a "steady" boyfriend. I worked at a summer camp all throughout high school and college and my first kiss came after a date with one of the other counselors, after a White Sox game. He was about to start his second year at Kansas...and considering I was heading to Mizzou at the end of the summer, we probably shouldn't have been together. (For those of you who don't know, Missouri and Kansas were very big rival schools). We had a short kiss after the game on the bus ride back to where our cars were parked in Deerfield and he asked me out on an "official date." I think we went to TGI Fridays and then he knew someone who knew Jim McMahon, yes, the "Punky QB" so we went to his house and swam in his pool. Jim McMahon was out of town at the time. He was a very nice guy, had a nice convertible car and he kissed me in the driveway of our house in Winnetka. It was a wet kiss, covered my mouth and my nose, but it was nice and he was nice. We exchanged phone numbers and I think we called each other once a few weeks after we had gotten to our respective schools. So, he was not my first love, but he was my first kiss and I'll always remember him for that.

Ah, my first love. Is it sad to say I was also late on that? I didn't fall in love until I was 25. Sure, I had crushes...lots and lots of crushes...but not one that I'd consider my first "love." I fell for one of my TA's in college, but that was more lust than love. After college there were a few internet romances, but they were all long distance and it wasn't really love either. I did meet the guys in person, but sometimes the person you meet online is not the person you meet in person. I guess my first love was also from the internet. Anyone remember the online service Prodigy? I had placed a personal ad with some of the other girls at work just to see who got the most responses. I had some really, REALLY bad dates from that experience and just as my ad was supposed to end, the advertising agency where I worked lost their biggest client so I was let go. I believe there were only 2 days left on my ad so I told some of my co-workers to just send me any responses I got. I got one last one. He wrote me a poem which was sweet. I met him for coffee a night later and we talked and laughed. He walked me home and in the next couple of days we went to a pre-season Bears game (even though he hated sports), and out to a nice restaurant. He got a parking ticket that night because after dinner we took a walk to the beach. He was 15 years my senior and was divorced with 2 young girls. He was an auto mechanic and never went to college but he was very intelligent and quick witted. He said he loved me first, which scared me, but I got over that. We ended our relationship after a year but remained friends for 11 years after that. We had a lot of great experiences together. We went through the death of all our parents together, and to this day, he is the only person I can travel with for an extended period of time and not want to kill at the end of the trip. We truly believed that we were "soulmates" and even with that moniker, it didn't mean we were meant to be together. He and I have gone our separate ways and we don't even speak to each other anymore, however I look back fondly on the times we shared and that he was my first "love."

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 2--Your Earliest Memory

My earliest memory? How do I know it's my earliest? I mean, when I saw this topic, a whole bunch of memories came flooding back to my childhood. But how do I know which one was the first? It's all kind of a blur of back then. Some of it has to be from stories passed down by my parents and grandparents, but does that mean it's MY memory or one of theirs? My boyfriend always complains that I never forget anything, but I've noticed as I'm getting older, that I do tend to forget things.

The memory that keeps flooding back to me though is the one where I was with my mother and brother at a friend's swimming pool. I was probably 3 or 4. I was riding on my mom's back, like a baby koala, when I slipped off and went under water. I remember blowing all sorts of bubbles and I'm sure the adults all panicked, but when I was lifted up and out of the pool I remember saying "Did you see all the bubbles?" Maybe that's my mind's way of coping with what was probably a scary experience for everyone else, and maybe even for me, but I remember it as pleasant. Perhaps that's why today, still, water grounds and soothes me. I've always loved swimming and being near waves, whether it's a lake or an ocean. I feel most at peace after taking a cruise so water plays an important part of my life.

That's the real first vivid memory, I have. I can remember the pool, I can remember the feel of my mom's skin and I definitely remember the bubbles. I've gone under water a lot of times. Another memory of going underneath in a pool was when we were living in New Mexico...my brother and I had gotten Chiquita boogie boards at a soccer game as a promotional gift. I was using one on my back (vertically) and my legs were over the other one (horizontally). My mother mentioned, whispered actually,  something about Haagen-Dazs ice cream, and I said... "Haagen-Dazs?" and the board behind my back shot out like a rocket, and I went under with my legs still over the other board, like a ledge. I remember laughing at that point too, and when I righted myself, everyone was laughing. Probably a happier memory for my mom than when I was 3 or 4, but similar in my mind.

30 Day Writing Challenge--Day 1

Now that I have a laptop again, I have decided to participate in a 30 day writing challenge. Every day I get a new topic to write about. I think this will be good for me and will force me to write, think, and maybe even discover new things about myself.

Today's challenge is 5 Things Wrong with Social Media.

1. It's too easy to spread misinformation. With our attention spans getting shorter and our demand for learning things instantly getting stronger, I feel that social media fails from time to time with fact checking. How many people have been declared dead on Twitter? How many times does a tragedy happen and people are reporting whatever they think they saw, or retweeting information without checking facts? I find that people are quick to blame the news channels when they get something wrong, but have no problem retweeting that the world is coming to an end, when really it was just an acorn falling on their head. Plus anyone can write anything. Where are the "trusted" journalists? Anyone with a cell phone can become an "on the street" reporter.

2. It's making conversations/experiences less personal. I remember standing in line for hours to see "Star Wars" in 1977. The popularity of the movie was spread by word of mouth, or reading reviews in the newspaper. There was no "pre-release" of the trailer unless you had seen a different movie in the theatre a month or two before. And when the movie was over, you couldn't log onto Facebook and tell all your friends. You had to go to school and talk to people about it. You could have conversations in the car with your parents on the way home instead of being buried in your cell phone. Earlier this year I had surgery and my throat swelled from the breathing tube so I couldn't speak. My boyfriend and I sat next to each other on the couch and texted each other. We were in the same room, but we were looking at screens instead of each other. I hear that Chili's now has a little screen at it's tables so you don't have to talk to anyone...not to order, not to pay. That's all well and good if you're in a hurry, but where's the interaction? I went back to Chicago a few weeks ago and walked into a bar I've been going to since I was of legal age to drink (and maybe even before). The waitress who I hadn't seen in 3 years remembered me and told me about a breast cancer event they were holding the next day. I told her to give me her "information" so I could keep in touch. She gave me a phone number. She doesn't do Facebook, she doesn't do email...she likes person to person interaction and conversation and these days that's rare. You've heard the stories of actors stopping in a play because someone's phone went off or they were taping the event. Don't you go to a play to experience it? How can you do that when you're staring at it through a screen? I want to see Benedict Cumberbatch play Hamlet. I want to look at his reactions, I want to see the sweat on his brow...I can't do that while trying to Periscope the experience.

3. It may be distributing too much information. I'm just as curious as the next person and yes, I like to see how my friends are doing, and what's going on with a sports team, or even the headlines of the day...but do I need minute by minute updates of Lindsey Lohan's whereabouts? Do I need to know what Kardashian is doing what? Do I need to see bodies on the ground after a plane crash? How many times do I have to watch that college football player or basketball player fall down awkwardly on his leg and end his career? (I remember watching Joe Theismann break his leg on Monday Night Football--I saw it once and that's more times than I needed to see it.)  Also, now that I live on the West Coast, those people that watch a program on the East Coast know what happened before I do and they tend to distribute that information without thought for others. I found out what happened on "The Walking Dead" last week just because I was scrolling through Facebook before I watched the episode. I found out results of the Olympics before they were televised. That's taking the fun and the discovery out of things. Why should I pay attention if I already know the outcome?

4. It's giving people a false sense of power. The good and the bad about social media is that you can be anonymous. How many people have tweeted something to someone that they would NEVER say to their face? I remember writing a letter to Jimmy Carter back when he was President and mentioning in the letter that some of my classmates didn't like him. Yet he still sent me a picture of the White House (or someone on his staff did). I'm sure he got lots of letters, some positive and some negative, but I'm sure he didn't get MILLIONS of letters the minute after he gave a speech. (And I signed my name to my letter---not many would do that these days.)  Many people have said it before, but I do wonder how many people would say what they tweet to someone's face. The "Mean Tweets" segment on Jimmy Kimmel is funny, but I'm sure if they had the tweeter reading them directly to the tweeted that not many people would show up. Social media makes it easier to say anything to anyone at anytime. That's not always a good thing.

5. There's too much of it. There used to be one newspaper edition a day (sometimes an evening edition if something breaking happened during the day). There was one news program, a few radio stations. Now it's all there all the time. I can hop on the internet or twitter or Facebook at any hour of the day and something is being written about something. I can turn on the TV and see news or weather 24 hours a day. Where is the break? When can I turn my mind to other things or do I have to be "connected" all 24 hours? How long do we have to talk about Justin Bieber's dick pics? Do we have to stay with the protest until the last person is standing on the street? I like finding out about bigger events when they happen, but I don't need to know everything all the time. I need some time to shut down, turn off, experience the world around me and the people in it.

Rambling Crap

This was supposed to be my assignment many months ago and I'm ashamed that I have let the months pass without writing every day. I do have a new laptop now so there should be no excuses. I have the time, especially since I seem to be suffering from insomnia every night between midnight and 3am. I have the tools. I just need to do it.

This post isn't going to be anything special. Just a few random sentences that have crossed my mind a lot in the past few months. Perhaps they will grow into something. Perhaps they will stay a sentence forever. I don't know. I just know that it's important for me to write. As I'm getting older, I realize that I need to do something with my thoughts, my active mind, and honestly, my talent. I may not be a J.K. Rowling or even a Gertrude Stein, but who's to say I'm not. And if I don't try, I can't possibly ever achieve something. So anyway, here are the few sentences. I have a short story partially written as well, but the sane side of me is telling me that if I want to be a functioning adult at work tomorrow, I can hold that off for another time.

"I just want to lay my head against your shoulder, close my eyes, and pretend, for just a moment that everything is going to be alright."

"He locks the door as soon as she leaves in the morning. She wonders if it's to keep her out. He wonders if it's to keep the secrets in."

"As she listened to the last stanza of the last poem at the last reading ever to be held at her bookstore, warmth enveloped her and she finally felt at peace."

"That extra nanosecond of contact between their fingers seemed longer to her than her entire life."

What, Where, When, Why & WHO?

Up in the pre-dawn hours writing, and wondering THE question: Who is going to read this? I suppose the other questions running through my mind are, who am I writing for, or am I writing this way because I know who is reading this?

From what I can tell, writers are fairly private people who are all insecure about sharing their work with a wider audience. Yet all our lives we have been sharing our writing with others. I've written birthday, anniversary, retirement and holiday poems for family members and friends. In high school and college, I'd write to please whatever teacher/professor had assigned the task. It would usually work, and when I went against his/her belief, I would see it reflected in a lower grade. I switched majors from journalism (where you had to answer the title questions in a specific order) to English because I didn't want someone telling me how to write. I felt I had more freedom for expressing my own ideas when writing about Dickens, Chaucer or Jane Austen.

I also wrote to save my life. An inexpensive form of therapy. Getting moods and feelings out on paper so that I didn't have to share my current state of mind with another person. There's also the letter written to my Mother after she died. Assigned to me as a therapy session. Never read by anyone but myself, but feelings needed to be expressed in some sort of way so that I could function like a normal human being again.

Diary/journal entries from younger years were never meant to be shared so were part fantasy and part reality.

I've written songs/lyrics that have yet to be shared.

As I've gotten older and been part of the dating pool, I'd write very explicit fantasies meant for an audience of one.

Now I have this blog that is out there for the world to read. Shared with anyone who may want to read it. And even though I post a link to Facebook and Twitter, I'm quite shy about telling new people (friends) about it. Do I not want to share myself with those I'd like to get to know better or have them get to know me better?

This goes back to my original question: who am I writing for and am I changing what I'd normally write because I know who's reading the words? Am I going to edit myself to make me seem more clever, more creative, less fucked up in the head? (I do admit to editing some things in this blog because I knew Eric was reading it.)

How do you write for someone you don't even know?

Telling someone new about the blog is like standing in front of them naked--here I am, lumps, tattoos and all--and then immediately wanting to cover up with a robe and hope that maybe they didn't see anything after all.

I guess every writer is writing for an audience whether or not they know WHO exactly is going to read their words.

I suppose, in the end, the WHO I'm writing for should be me.

100 Words on Suicide

Random events on a bus ride home lead to unexpected conversations.
Discussions with a new generation,
Repeated from the same age as your fellow traveller is now.
Thought about it then.
Think about it now?
Too big a topic to be summarized before the light turns green.
One journey and the conversation ends with a wave and a smile from both.
As the bus door closes,
Wheels start turning, literally and figuratively.
Assignment. Challenge. Inspiration. PUSH.
Words chosen carefully or stream of consciousness...simply belief?
Public. Private.
Desperation. Cowardice.
Chemical imbalance. Irony.
Spiraling out of control. Attention.
Hopelessness. Selfishness.

Done.

To Be Continued...

I'm back after a 6 month hiatus. Back due to the inspiration from someone I didn't expect it from, and from a few who I did. I turned 45 on Tuesday and based on recent events, I am feeling s bit old. I am also feeling restless, depressed, a bit lost and unsure of where I am headed. Good reasons to start writing again.

Last night I couldn't sleep with all the ideas for blog entries in my head. I wrote some topics down and will be working on them this weekend, next weekend, daily, whenever I can. So although I could go on with a really long, rambling entry, I'm going to stop myself and write out some of the ideas the old-fashioned way with pen and paper. (I even bought a sparkly purple notebook and some new pens).

Stay tuned.