Several years ago at work some of the guys were talking about people who are high maintenance. I innocently thought that because I don't wear much makeup and my hair is generally short or a mess that I couldn't be high maintenance. My friend Michael started to hoot, "Carol," he said, "you are extremely high maintenance!" I didn't understand it at the time.
I really am not that vain unless something I am attached to gets messed with. Then I am so self conscious, I become one pointed. In 1987 I needed to get a front tooth pulled but lived in total pain until the false tooth was ready. I would not go even one day without a front tooth.
I've been blessed with really good skin. It has few wrinkles. I have a fairly light case of rosacea that mostly shows up as pink skin. Little by little the pinkness is turning into tiny blood vessels close to the surface. Not like Uncle Bill the heavy drinker. I finally had the laser treatment and all I can say is "Oh my God! I have a pizza face."
They warned me it would look worse before it looked better. The first day it was swollen. The next day I did look like hard drinking Uncle Bill with the veins turning almost black. And now today, I look like an old witch with acne.
I didn't take my parents out today. I scared a delivery guy and I definitely did not go to a White Trash Party I was invited to. Hope springs eternal and I had a great costume complete with turquoise eyeshadow. But by this afternoon I knew that partying was out for me. My daughter tried to convince me to add a few false warts and I would fit right in. Um... no.
The old lady, 95, has a couple of sayings. She says that you have to suffer to be beautiful. After this treatment, I totally agree. She also says that every day of your life you are in a beauty contest. I opted out of the competition a long time ago and skated on being young and cute. It is quite a shock to pass the mirror and see someone not young, and believe me with a face like this, not cute either.
I've often heard that true beauty is on the inside. I don't really care what my innards look like. I'd rather be superficially good looking on the outside. So there you have it, my dark and vain high maintenance self exposed at last. (Bwahahaha!)
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Cleaning up loose ends
Blogging is two sided. I write for me, and I write for you. If it was only for me I would mark it as a private diary entry. Sometimes I hit a nerve and someone will send me an email or leave a comment.
I have been enjoying my own place and putting off going back to the house to deal with the den/office. Being back at the house is like a field full of unexploded and hidden mines. L is still in town and she promised to help me. We were in the process of throwing away a bunch of old paper and she said, "I told Dad he should get a shredder and he is going to get one." Bang! There goes one now. I said that I tried to tell him that we needed one and he said they were too noisy and we didn't need one. "Why will he listen to you and he wouldn't listen to me?"
After awhile I said that one can't help the way they feel, and sometimes feelings change. What I have the hardest time forgiving, though, is his assertion that he wanted to stay married while building a new life without me. I wasted so much time waiting for things to get better, to go back to normal. We each lied to ourselves and each other. I should have packed my bags as soon as I knew his feelings had changed.
So I am mad at him for not being honest and mad at the way I put myself in this position. I am sorrowful at wasting time, years, waiting for the bad patch to be over and laughter to begin again.
Tomorrow, today actually, is another day. We have some more sorting to do. I want to be able to look at the stuff as stuff and not assign an emotional value to anything. I want to walk in, do what needs to be done, and leave.
I have been enjoying my own place and putting off going back to the house to deal with the den/office. Being back at the house is like a field full of unexploded and hidden mines. L is still in town and she promised to help me. We were in the process of throwing away a bunch of old paper and she said, "I told Dad he should get a shredder and he is going to get one." Bang! There goes one now. I said that I tried to tell him that we needed one and he said they were too noisy and we didn't need one. "Why will he listen to you and he wouldn't listen to me?"
After awhile I said that one can't help the way they feel, and sometimes feelings change. What I have the hardest time forgiving, though, is his assertion that he wanted to stay married while building a new life without me. I wasted so much time waiting for things to get better, to go back to normal. We each lied to ourselves and each other. I should have packed my bags as soon as I knew his feelings had changed.
So I am mad at him for not being honest and mad at the way I put myself in this position. I am sorrowful at wasting time, years, waiting for the bad patch to be over and laughter to begin again.
Tomorrow, today actually, is another day. We have some more sorting to do. I want to be able to look at the stuff as stuff and not assign an emotional value to anything. I want to walk in, do what needs to be done, and leave.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Yeah, that is over
For some reason, I invited S and L to come over and watch Vikings game on my flat screen. I guess I didn't want to be alone and I thought they would enjoy it. I am not much of a football fan, although the coverage is much more exciting than in the old days before cams on cable. I used to like the Jets when Joe Namath played (boy does that age me) and I dated Bruce Taylor of the San Francisco 49ers back when I was young and stupid. He was young and stupid too.
L wanted to prepare a dinner with me. We picked out a recipe and she went shopping for the ingredients. I had to laugh when she came home with a rotisserie chicken and a bag of frozen french fries. Masala naan, humus and pickles rounded out the meal. S came over after working out. They ate watching the game and I ate at the table.
The first half of the game was pretty exciting and they were happy. I had enough football and went into the bedroom to read. Then the shouting started, the cursing, the hopes of the faithful being shattered once again. Nine minutes left in the fourth quarter and I decided to go to the grocery to get some fuzzy water. I didn't want to be here.
Lovely wandering the aisles, looking at fancy stuff, hearing the game in the background. Oh no, it went into overtime. Being the only person in Byerly's, I chatted with the staff who happened to be from Africa. We talked about crazy soccer fans, comparing them with football fans. Finally, I could put it off no longer and went back to my place. Still in overtime, you could cut the tension with a knife. Sudden death field goal and New Orleans had won. S got up and left without a word. L gave me a kiss and went back to the house.
I turned to the Smuckers cavalcade of stars on ice. Happy, joyous young athletes skating their success in winning nationals. I was smiling from ear to ear with them. S is the past, I don't need him and I don't want him. We will always be parents and grandparents, and on some level we will always be tied. But instead of in the past where he had a life without me, and I was lonely, I now have a life without him. I realize I might be alone, but my, my, my, it is so much better than being lonely with him.
Is there a time when we realize all we need to know? Is there a tool that measures understanding? I think it is only by living everyday that we achieve any understanding of ourselves or others. I do not subscribe anymore to the theory that any part of life should take a particular amount of time. Well, pregnancy is the exception to the rule. But a child walks and talks in their own time. Love is it's own timetable. Mourning, healing, taking steps towards health are all individual endeavors.
There is the realization that my time here on Earth is finite. There is the perception that after youth, life is all downhill. I am here to fight that perception. Maybe I will be able to create a successful career at 57. Maybe I will achieve financial security. But maybe I will only be able to work part time, maybe I will live on a fixed income counting all my dimes. I don't know. I have spent so much of my life worried about all the bad things that could happen. Now, in this time of rebuilding, I want to enjoy life and the blessings that are mine. There is a bunny that frolics in the snow outside. There is a warm bed and good book waiting. Yes, the Vikings have lost again, but for me, life goes on.
L wanted to prepare a dinner with me. We picked out a recipe and she went shopping for the ingredients. I had to laugh when she came home with a rotisserie chicken and a bag of frozen french fries. Masala naan, humus and pickles rounded out the meal. S came over after working out. They ate watching the game and I ate at the table.
The first half of the game was pretty exciting and they were happy. I had enough football and went into the bedroom to read. Then the shouting started, the cursing, the hopes of the faithful being shattered once again. Nine minutes left in the fourth quarter and I decided to go to the grocery to get some fuzzy water. I didn't want to be here.
Lovely wandering the aisles, looking at fancy stuff, hearing the game in the background. Oh no, it went into overtime. Being the only person in Byerly's, I chatted with the staff who happened to be from Africa. We talked about crazy soccer fans, comparing them with football fans. Finally, I could put it off no longer and went back to my place. Still in overtime, you could cut the tension with a knife. Sudden death field goal and New Orleans had won. S got up and left without a word. L gave me a kiss and went back to the house.
I turned to the Smuckers cavalcade of stars on ice. Happy, joyous young athletes skating their success in winning nationals. I was smiling from ear to ear with them. S is the past, I don't need him and I don't want him. We will always be parents and grandparents, and on some level we will always be tied. But instead of in the past where he had a life without me, and I was lonely, I now have a life without him. I realize I might be alone, but my, my, my, it is so much better than being lonely with him.
Is there a time when we realize all we need to know? Is there a tool that measures understanding? I think it is only by living everyday that we achieve any understanding of ourselves or others. I do not subscribe anymore to the theory that any part of life should take a particular amount of time. Well, pregnancy is the exception to the rule. But a child walks and talks in their own time. Love is it's own timetable. Mourning, healing, taking steps towards health are all individual endeavors.
There is the realization that my time here on Earth is finite. There is the perception that after youth, life is all downhill. I am here to fight that perception. Maybe I will be able to create a successful career at 57. Maybe I will achieve financial security. But maybe I will only be able to work part time, maybe I will live on a fixed income counting all my dimes. I don't know. I have spent so much of my life worried about all the bad things that could happen. Now, in this time of rebuilding, I want to enjoy life and the blessings that are mine. There is a bunny that frolics in the snow outside. There is a warm bed and good book waiting. Yes, the Vikings have lost again, but for me, life goes on.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I needed this
I have been such a crazy bitch for several days. Depressed, eating everything not nailed down and some that was. I picked a fight with the old lady. When asked what I was going to have for dinner, I told L, "Indigestion." Sleeping, not sleeping, easy to offend and probably offensive.
First I was blaming the grey weather, the nasty skies and roads and just missing the sun. Then it occurred to me... hormones. I was having a bout of PMS. Post Menstrual Syndrome. Good old menopause. My first impulse is to wail, "Does it ever end?"
On the way home I stopped at the store and bought chocolate and coffee ice cream, lace cookies, and other munchies. Got in the house and had some right away. I'd just had a healthy dinner of rainbow trout and spinach, two favorites. I wasn't hungry. But after eating the ice cream, I seemed to exhale for the first time in days. It makes no sense, but I feel better.
There is a party I was invited to tonight. Lots of interesting people, loud music, and not a chance anyone there wants to share my mood. I think I will stay home and watch figure skating. Beautiful young women in sparkly outfits jumping on the ice, falling on their butts, getting up with a smile and finishing. I am ready to be impressed and inspired.
First I was blaming the grey weather, the nasty skies and roads and just missing the sun. Then it occurred to me... hormones. I was having a bout of PMS. Post Menstrual Syndrome. Good old menopause. My first impulse is to wail, "Does it ever end?"
On the way home I stopped at the store and bought chocolate and coffee ice cream, lace cookies, and other munchies. Got in the house and had some right away. I'd just had a healthy dinner of rainbow trout and spinach, two favorites. I wasn't hungry. But after eating the ice cream, I seemed to exhale for the first time in days. It makes no sense, but I feel better.
There is a party I was invited to tonight. Lots of interesting people, loud music, and not a chance anyone there wants to share my mood. I think I will stay home and watch figure skating. Beautiful young women in sparkly outfits jumping on the ice, falling on their butts, getting up with a smile and finishing. I am ready to be impressed and inspired.
Friday, January 15, 2010
1. Three amazing minutes 2. Letting go and going down
1. Three minutes
Do you ever waste time? I do. I spend hours on the computer surfing, perving, playing games, and of course facebook. Do you ever wish time would go faster? If only it would be tomorrow or next week or the baby was born or in school, or all grown up. If only it was Friday or the next party. I have sat down to meditate and instead of meditating, wishing the time was over and I could get on to the next thing. It is so very rare that I am truly totally alive and present.
I am spending a few days at a resort in Wisconsin Dells with a friend. There is an indoor water park and an indoor theme park. Today we went to the theme park. We went on the bumper cars and I had a wonderful time. I loved driving the little cars and avoiding or ramming someone. I wish I could have had the whole floor to myself and gone around and around. As it was I could not believe how long we got to stay on the cars. There weren't that many people and we got to go again. Just for curiosity I asked the attendant how long the ride was. Three minutes!
Then we tried the go-carts. I rode around and around on the right side and no one was ahead of me. My cart had super tight steering and it took all my concentration to keep it going fast around the curves. This was a super long ride. No wonder there was a line. As I exited, exhilarated, I again asked the attendant how long the ride was. Three minutes!
How could that be? How could each second last so long? How could I be so totally in the moment that three minutes felt like fifteen? And how can I attain that degree of awareness in every day life? Suddenly I understood X-treme sports; for when go-carting just won't do.
2. Letting go and going down
Although I loved roller coasters and scary rides when I was young, I had an anxiety attack at the top of a drop about twenty years ago and have not gone on anything with a vertical drop since then. Today I went on a mouse ride, a one car roller coaster. I was very scared of the drop. I did not realize I was looking at the chain drive part that steeply brings the car to the top. We zig and zagged our way down the rails with two short vertical drops. When it was over and I had not died of a heart or anxiety attack I asked why we hadn't gone down the really steep part. It was the uphill. After a while I volunteered that I wanted to go again to desensitize myself about dropping and dropping dead.
Last night I went on a very high water slide on a two person float. I was apprehensive to say the least. I don't like letting go and not having control. I knew that once in the tube, that was it. Did I love it? No. Do I want to do it again? Not really. Will I do it again? Probably, maybe, for sure and surely not.
What have I learned? That the fear of the fear is worse than the experience. I have harbored the fear that if I would ever go on a roller coaster again that I would die. I did not die. I have learned that when circumstances say let go, to let go and let the water or the ride take me down. My crazy brain is not going to kill me.
Many years ago when I learned to meditate, I experienced this moment as eternity. I want to reconnect to that consciousness in my everyday life and not have to wait for a bumper car. I feel ready to try again.
Do you ever waste time? I do. I spend hours on the computer surfing, perving, playing games, and of course facebook. Do you ever wish time would go faster? If only it would be tomorrow or next week or the baby was born or in school, or all grown up. If only it was Friday or the next party. I have sat down to meditate and instead of meditating, wishing the time was over and I could get on to the next thing. It is so very rare that I am truly totally alive and present.
I am spending a few days at a resort in Wisconsin Dells with a friend. There is an indoor water park and an indoor theme park. Today we went to the theme park. We went on the bumper cars and I had a wonderful time. I loved driving the little cars and avoiding or ramming someone. I wish I could have had the whole floor to myself and gone around and around. As it was I could not believe how long we got to stay on the cars. There weren't that many people and we got to go again. Just for curiosity I asked the attendant how long the ride was. Three minutes!
Then we tried the go-carts. I rode around and around on the right side and no one was ahead of me. My cart had super tight steering and it took all my concentration to keep it going fast around the curves. This was a super long ride. No wonder there was a line. As I exited, exhilarated, I again asked the attendant how long the ride was. Three minutes!
How could that be? How could each second last so long? How could I be so totally in the moment that three minutes felt like fifteen? And how can I attain that degree of awareness in every day life? Suddenly I understood X-treme sports; for when go-carting just won't do.
2. Letting go and going down
Although I loved roller coasters and scary rides when I was young, I had an anxiety attack at the top of a drop about twenty years ago and have not gone on anything with a vertical drop since then. Today I went on a mouse ride, a one car roller coaster. I was very scared of the drop. I did not realize I was looking at the chain drive part that steeply brings the car to the top. We zig and zagged our way down the rails with two short vertical drops. When it was over and I had not died of a heart or anxiety attack I asked why we hadn't gone down the really steep part. It was the uphill. After a while I volunteered that I wanted to go again to desensitize myself about dropping and dropping dead.
Last night I went on a very high water slide on a two person float. I was apprehensive to say the least. I don't like letting go and not having control. I knew that once in the tube, that was it. Did I love it? No. Do I want to do it again? Not really. Will I do it again? Probably, maybe, for sure and surely not.
What have I learned? That the fear of the fear is worse than the experience. I have harbored the fear that if I would ever go on a roller coaster again that I would die. I did not die. I have learned that when circumstances say let go, to let go and let the water or the ride take me down. My crazy brain is not going to kill me.
Many years ago when I learned to meditate, I experienced this moment as eternity. I want to reconnect to that consciousness in my everyday life and not have to wait for a bumper car. I feel ready to try again.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
IMHO
IMHO: In my humble opinion. NOT!
"Everyone is entitled to my opinion", placard my sister sent me.
"My favorite way home is past the cemetery since it's about the only place in the whole town where people keep their opinions to themselves" www.storypeople.com
Uriah Heep was a character in one of Charles Dickens' books. He was a smarmy toad who referred to himself as humble. Other people can call one humble; a truly humble person never would.
I am one of the most opinionated people I know. My sister hit it on the head. I will stop people on the street to tell them how fabulous they look, or to disagree with the way they parked, although I am getting better at minding my own business. Is it age or exhaustion or am I finally learning boundaries?
It is hard to watch grown-up children make choices I would not make. It is even harder to shut up and not voice them. My in-laws were so good about that. I know they bit their tongue on everything from vegetarianism, to following a spiritual leader, to not baptizing our children. They were just there for us, loving and keeping their judgements to themselves. And when we started eating fish but not beef, they didn't argue, just made fish.
My daughter made a mistake and was quite upset. She came over and I made her some comfort food and listened to her. I wasn't quite as good as her grandmother. I could not help give advice and it wasn't what she wanted to hear. Sometimes my other daughter will have to preface her statements with telling me she isn't asking for advice or fixing, she just wants to talk.
So I am learning to let them live their own lives. It is what we do from when they are babies. We do everything to make them strong independent people. I heard someone say they would love to keep their babies in a bubble and not let them grow up. I know what she meant but what a hell that would be. A dear friend's child never aged, stayed newborn mentally as her little body got bigger. Hell.
Today, and I can't promise I will make it past the next ten minutes, I am going to try not only to keep my opinions to myself, (Ma, are you OK?) I am also going to try not to judge anyone harshly. Today is give the world a break from my humble opinions day, except of course, this blog.
"Everyone is entitled to my opinion", placard my sister sent me.
"My favorite way home is past the cemetery since it's about the only place in the whole town where people keep their opinions to themselves" www.storypeople.com
Uriah Heep was a character in one of Charles Dickens' books. He was a smarmy toad who referred to himself as humble. Other people can call one humble; a truly humble person never would.
I am one of the most opinionated people I know. My sister hit it on the head. I will stop people on the street to tell them how fabulous they look, or to disagree with the way they parked, although I am getting better at minding my own business. Is it age or exhaustion or am I finally learning boundaries?
It is hard to watch grown-up children make choices I would not make. It is even harder to shut up and not voice them. My in-laws were so good about that. I know they bit their tongue on everything from vegetarianism, to following a spiritual leader, to not baptizing our children. They were just there for us, loving and keeping their judgements to themselves. And when we started eating fish but not beef, they didn't argue, just made fish.
My daughter made a mistake and was quite upset. She came over and I made her some comfort food and listened to her. I wasn't quite as good as her grandmother. I could not help give advice and it wasn't what she wanted to hear. Sometimes my other daughter will have to preface her statements with telling me she isn't asking for advice or fixing, she just wants to talk.
So I am learning to let them live their own lives. It is what we do from when they are babies. We do everything to make them strong independent people. I heard someone say they would love to keep their babies in a bubble and not let them grow up. I know what she meant but what a hell that would be. A dear friend's child never aged, stayed newborn mentally as her little body got bigger. Hell.
Today, and I can't promise I will make it past the next ten minutes, I am going to try not only to keep my opinions to myself, (Ma, are you OK?) I am also going to try not to judge anyone harshly. Today is give the world a break from my humble opinions day, except of course, this blog.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Big Mac Disappointment
Not talking McDonalds here, talking Apple.
I am an old, old Macintosh user. My first computer was an Apple Lisa, the precursor to the Mac. In the 90's I owned two Performas. I was not happy to switch to a PC for business reasons and when I was ready to get a new Mac for home use my daughter gave us her Dell. When the Dell died we got another PC.
I was so attached to the Mac. I remember telling a brain surgeon who was computer illiterate to get a Mac. I told him, "It isn't brain surgery." (God I crack myself up) So when I moved to my own place I left the PC and ordered myself up a nearly new, refurbished ibook G4.
Frankly, I am disappointed. This is not the easy to use Mac I remember. I have a problem downloading anything because it will tell me it doesn't recognize the program and I have to choose another, yet whatever I choose is wrong.
I have downloaded Open Office but can't open it. I can't upload photos to LL. Now the Epson printer is not responding even though the right driver is loaded. And this morning the wireless mouse stopped working. I am so disappointed and saddened to be back at the library.
I don't have a lot of money so I am hoping to get a Mac wizard to help me on a barter system. Since most of them are probably young enough to be my grandchildren (provided I had kids at 18) I will offer home made meals.
Wish me luck.
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