One Little Polish Girl

When bad things happen to good people....

2012-01-31T13:16:00.001-08:00

We all have our share of bad things happen in our lives. I have seen my share of death. I've experienced the feeling of losing a loved one and a very close friend. One, my father, was at the end of a very long and fulfilling life. The other, my friend Dave, was taken far too soon by AIDS when he was just in his late 20's. Both times hurt like hell and it took me a while to get over the fact that those two great people were no longer physically in my life. But each time, I was surrounded by people who shared that loss and loved me enough to support me through it and so I did.

A couple of weeks ago, a man who was getting case management services though our program passed away suddenly of a massive heart attack. It was a shock to us all because he was someone who would come in every single day, often being the first one here and we all knew him very well. He was "a client". Another man, one who often came with him and lived in the same building, was his close friend. The man who passed away had many friends and family that cared about him. The man who was his friend only had him. These dark days since the man's death have been very hard on his friend. He still comes in but is lost and has no one close to him to support him through this. We reach out to him the best we can but we are "service providers" and its just not the same. He is struggling to make sense of a senseless thing and a loss that has cut him deeply.

These things haunt me. I see people on the street, obviously homeless, each with their own story, alone and it haunts me. How does someone get to a place in their lives where they have no one when there are so many lonely people out there wanting someone? These are good people, people worth knowing. Bad things happen to all of us but when there is no one to see us through those bad times it seems like the bad is amplified a thousand-fold.

This past week our agency participated in the "Count in Time" which is a state wide head count of homeless people in our communities. Groups of volunteers go out in the dead of night, looking in parks, at the lakefront, near the railroad tracks, in empty warehouses, to meet and count the homeless. They take them backpacks with warm clothing, blankets and food. This year the group found 37 people living under bushes, in tent cities and under viaducts between the hours of 3am and 6am and in the dead of winter. I can't fathom that life. I wonder how they survive. And I wonder still why they are there, lonely and alone, in a land of opportunity and wealth. Should make you wonder too.

How long until I can retire?

2012-01-24T16:33:00.000-08:00

You know how every year you get that friendly statement from Social Security stating how much your Social Security benefits would be if you retired at 65 and then at 68 and 70 and so on? How nice of them to remind every year that I will probably be working on the day of my own damn funeral! According to them, I can never retire. Well, not if I want to actually live in a house and have food once in a while.

And, because I am a twit and a do-gooder and decided that social work was a good "calling" I will have no retirement pension or nest egg to rely on whatsoever.

I could probably afford to live right here in my apartment for a while since I have dirt cheap rent to pay due to the fact that I rent from my sister and she doesn't want the hassle of finding someone else to rent to and, frankly, she knows she would have to do a ginormous amount of upgrades to rent it to anyone but me. But, she's older than me and it's likely that she will go before me leaving the house to her daughter who will probably kick me out! Maybe I should invest in a tent now while I have the income.

Now, I like my job, don't get me wrong. I just don't want to do it forever. I would like some time to rest and relax and just do whatever the hell I want to do when I want to do it. The first thing that goes is that damned alarm clock. Oh it's going alright. Right out the window, after I beat it to death with a hammer. I hate that thing.

I think I'll write a letter to the Social Security Administration. You think they take bribes? Maybe next time I get that notice it will bring me some good news. Like - Hey! You can retire next week! And we'll give you $5000 a month!

Is that too much to ask?

In praise of dentists...yes...dentists....

2012-01-23T15:03:00.000-08:00

When I was nine years old, I had my first horrible experience with a dentist. I had a cavity and he was going in with the syringe to numb my mouth. As he pushed the needle into my gums, it broke off and stuck there. Worse, he was putting so much pressure on my gums that the syringe cut into it from the back of my jaw to the front. Result? A nine year old with a mouth full of stitches and a lifeline fear of dentists.

My second horrific encounter involved no pain at all. What is did involve was a big conglomerate dental clinic where I was treated as if I smelled bad or had cooties. They were the rudest people who did nothing to qualm my already taxed nerves but, instead, took it upon themselves to yell at me and treat me badly the entire time I was there. I mean it, everyone from the receptionist to the hygienist, the x-ray tech to the dentist - rude, rude, rude.

So, between those two experiences, let it be known that I have not gone to the dentist as regularly as I should have.

Fast forward to last Thanksgiving. I got a drink of water at my sister's house. She has these heavy crystal glasses and I spazzed or something and hit my front tooth in just the right way that I made it loose. Not too loose, but loose enough that I couldn't' leave it alone for the next two months. By last week, it was hanging there and needed to come out. So, I had to find a dentist and I had to go.

I managed to find a great dentist. Dr. Terry Huff...seriously, he is the kindest man in the world. His whole crew made me feel so comfortable and they were so accommodating and friendly.

Naturally, since I hadn't been to a dentist in a long time there was much to be done aside from the tooth. I needed some deep cleaning and had a small cavity needing filling too. My tooth came out and now he's bonded another tooth in there. And all without pain or stress or yelling.

I can't recommend this doctor enough. I will no longer fear the dentist and I can only hope Dr. Huff never retires!

Whoa. We are connected...

2012-01-19T20:34:00.000-08:00

So. tonight I was playing Words With Friends with about five people. I was on my mac, on Facebook. Alex was using the TV, playing a video game he just got. I was waiting to watch Project Runway All Stars which started at 8pm when I realized I didn't need the TV because I can get that on my iPad. I could watch it on my iPad while still playing Words With Friends on the mac. While he played the game on the TV, he was working something out on his computer so would occasionally run over to it to click something.

It dawned on me then that we are probably most "connected" couple I know! Haha! Here we were in our little living room accessing all manor of electronics and "interacting" with other people. Yes, we are in the 21st century. So, while we don't have those cool hover cars they promised us in those futuristic movies from the past, we do have high grade communication devices and, frankly, I'm all for them!

I am one of those people who can say that knowing how to use a computer and the Internet has really changed my life. For one, I have connected with so many truly talented people that I have been inspired to nurture my own inner creativity which is something I have neglected for a long time. Another great thing, my world is smaller than most people I know. I have friends all over the world. True friends too, not just names and faces, but people I know would be there for me in a heart beat if I needed them. I met them because we share a love of Sweden and our friendships grew from there. We share our good and bad times and support each other and some of us have even met each other. It's been very good. The best thing that's happened to me via the Internet is, of course, meeting my husband! People sometimes raised their eyebrows when they hear we met on the Internet. They're thinking "Internet dating sites" or something and even those have changed dramatically in recent years. Alex and I met on an independent musician website. I was writing lyrics and singing on collaborative songs with other artists. He uploaded some music of his own that blew me away! We started corresponding and talking as friends. He got me through a rough time. And then he proposed!

I know I will embarrass him when he reads this but Alexander is the best person I know. Funny, kind, super smart and excited about life. I love him so much.

Okay, enough of that...where was I...oh, yes, the Internet. I have reconnected with people that fell out of my life years ago and that's been a blast. I've had lunch with grade school friends and we have laughed our asses off each time. I have dined with college friends and we have the same reaction. Time changes much but not what matters. That's important. Write it down.

So, I'm a big fan of the internet and electronic devices that allow us to multitask and connect to each other and other parts of the world. And you can find some really weird stuff too. And that's okay...as long as you know it's weird and move on!

Not a morning person...

2012-01-16T05:43:00.001-08:00

I admit it. I am not a morning person. I never have been yet every single job I've ever had has forced me to get up in the wee hours of the morning to get to work. Oh, there are some things that are typically good about mornings, according to some. Things like:

1. Sunrise. Yes, sunrises are great and living on the lake, as I do, I've seen some spectacular sunrises. But, I've seen just as impressive sunsets so I'm not overly excited about watching the sun rise on a daily basis. Call me jaded, but one sunrise looks pretty much like the next and, frankly, I'd rather still be in bed.

2. First cup of coffee. Yes, that first cup of hot Joe is about the best thing ever. But, honestly, I can enjoy that first up sensation whether I have that cup at 5am or noon. I prefer noon.

3. Breakfast. I'm just not a fan. Brunch - now that's a good thing. And I am a fan of those restaurants that serve breakfast at any time because breakfast for dinner is the bomb! Recommendation: the Ole Skillet at Marina Gardens. Try it! YUM!

4. Quiet alone time in the morning. This is entirely overrated. Maybe because I never seem to get it anyway. Either my husband is up and talking to me or the cats are all over me saying good morning. I like them better when they're saying good afternoon. In the morning, they are not cute...they are annoying.

5. Morning drive time. Now, granted, I live very close to where I work and my drive time is ridiculously short but I hate it. I hate going out to my car in the dark winter mornings. I hate scraping ice off my windshield in the morning. I have waiting for my beater bomb to warm up. I don't have a garage. I have me, in the dark, swearing and freezing my tuckus. It's not pretty.

There are more things I hate about mornings - that moment when I have to uncover and get out of bed, that alarm going off, that moment I realize I've dawdled too long and now I'm rushing, trying to form a coherent thought - it all sucks. I am decidedly a night owl. I can be completely worn out at the end of the work day but when I get home, something happens. Actually, when I leave my office something happens. I wake up! I'm ready! Let's go! I can stay awake very late. In fact, I find it difficult to fall asleep before midnight. So I am awake that late and then have to get up early.

It's a hellish, never ending cycle. Sigh...

A good day to be alive...

2012-01-14T21:09:00.000-08:00

Today was one of those days when nothing much happens but everything is right.
I did this:

Slept really late.
Ate some Chicken McBites at McDs.
Had some good hot chocolate.
Scanned old photos and had a good laugh at the memories.
Had some good egg nog.
Made a great dinner.
Soaked beans for ham and bean soup making tomorrow.

That's it. Nothing else. And it was great. Sometimes I need days like this. We all do,

The finer things in life...

2012-01-13T13:17:00.000-08:00

It snowed here yesterday and today is seasonably cold. I arrived at work this morning to find one of our early risers waiting outside in the cold. We have strict rules about letting our clients in early because 1. we don't officially open until 7:30am and 2. there's no one at the front desk to supervise them. What can I say? Things have gone missing from here once in a while.

But this morning, there he was. Standing out in the blowing cold in a hoodie and tennis shoes with no socks, hat or gloves. He asked me if would let him in and the "agency" side of me said no. At first. I explained that I wasn't trying to be mean but he really needed to try to time his arrival to get there at our opening hour so he wouldn't have to wait outside. I explained that this was an agency policy and I could get in trouble for letting him in. He explained he knew this and promised it wouldn't happen again. I explained that I really shouldn't.

Then I let him in.
And gave him a pair of boots.
And a microwave we had just gotten donated. And made arrangements for someone to take him home with it so he wouldn't have to carry it on the bus.
The boots were a neccessity. The microwave may have been me overcompensating for my own guilt. But he really did need a microwave.

I know he will be out there again Monday morning. Hopefully, he will keep his word and show up slightly later, closer to our opening time. We'll see.

In the meantime, I couldn't, in good conscience, make him wait out there, in tennis shoes, without socks. So, I might get in trouble. I'd do it again in a heart beat.

Punching through...

2012-01-11T05:51:00.000-08:00

There is a young man I work with who struggles everyday to reconcile the fact that he has a mental illness. He doesn't want it. Who would? He watches other people thinking they are "normal" and asks why he cannot be like them. I struggle each day trying to get him to see and understand that he is like them. We are they. They are us.

I give shoddy examples of how people live with chronic illnesses all the time - diabetes, painful arthritis, and others - and he answers, "Yes, but people don't think you're crazy when you have arthritis." And he's right.

He wonders how he will ever have a serious relationship with anyone because, though he wants that more than anything, his illness makes him paranoid and doubtful of everyone. Even those who love him. So he stays alone, purposefully isolating himself from others which, he says, makes him look even "crazier".

He wants a job but his illness has caused him to do things in the past that have tarnished his record so he cannot find an employer willing or able to take the time to give him a chance. He wants friendships but pulls away after a while because they become too taxing to maintain. The daily inner dialogue reassuring himself that his friends are not out to get him or harm him is exhausting.

He doesn't like his medications. Who would? There is no magic pill that makes the illness go away. Only pills that make the illness bearable and that is to varying degrees. The pills come with side affects - weight gain, hair loss, slow or slurred speech, sleeplessness, or too much sleep, no motivation, low libido, and sometimes Tardive Dyskonesia - involuntary muscle movements in the limbs or face that cannot be reversed, only masked by more pills.

He doesn't like not taking his pill though he hates them. Not taking them means the illness wins. It takes over. No one is to be trusted. No thought is real. No sound is true. Everyone, everywhere is out to get him. So he strikes back. He becomes "crazy".

How do you reach someone to let them know that they can have some quality of life once they can target their triggers and understand their symptoms? Even if that quality of life is altered in someway? How can I show a young man, with his whole life ahead of him, that he can handle this, that he is not crazy, that he is worth the fight and I am willing to fight with him? It's a lot to think about.

Broken people...

2012-01-05T05:53:00.001-08:00

In my work, I meet people who have gone through and are going through some of the worst events of their lives. I work with people who have been diagnosed with severe and persistent mental illness. My hope is that our program can help them understand their illness, work through it, and learn ways to live with it that will allow them some quality of life. It's harder than it sounds.

No one wants to hear they have a mental illness. The stigma that is placed on those two words - mental illness - is enormous. So much so that, often, their own families would rather not have anything to do with them because of it. Overwhelmingly, the people I work with have lived through horrible trauma in their lives as well. They are broken. Almost daily, I speak to good people who cannot see their own worth because they have lived through years of other people telling them they are worth nothing and will never be worth anything. It's very sad.

We all have incidents in our lives that cause us trauma. We are confronted with abuse, sometimes neglect, and deal with the deaths of loved ones that take us by surprise and knock us down. Most of us have learned ways to deal with these incidents and we get on with our lives. Some people, those who have an underlying mental health diagnosis, have an extremely hard time moving past those incidents. And sometimes those events of trauma, abuse and neglect are so severe that it stops them in their tracks.

The stories I could tell would make you cry. But, I cannot dwell in the sadness of their situations. I have to be the one to find that one tiny moment of hope and spotlight it so they can see it. When it works, it's magical. To show someone that they can achieve their goals in spite of their illness is really a miracle. To see someones happiness when they realize they can do it, that's amazing. And it's why I do what I do.

But, I'm not magical or a miracle worker. I'm just a person who can listen and ask questions and guide them as best I can. Sometimes, it's just the listening part that is the most important. Because, you see, like all of us, the people I work with have stories to tell. Life stories that I learn from every day. They give me more hope than I could ever give them. It's easy to pass these people by. They act weird. They might look strange. They may talk to themselves or someone who isn't really there. They might even smell bad. They are the ones who make us uncomfortable when we're riding the bus or in line at a bank or McDonald's. They are the ones we tell our kids to avoid. That's the saddest part because, without a doubt, they are people who could teach us all a lesson.

If you ever get the chance to volunteer at a shelter or a soup kitchen I highly recommend it. You will learn more about yourself and open your heart to so many good people that you will feel full. Full of hope. Full of honest love. Full of humanity.

Get over it already!!

2012-01-03T20:54:00.000-08:00

So, the holidays have come and gone. Mine were good. Really they were. But, I was in a funk for most of it and I have no reason in the world to be in a funk. Let's take note here...my holidays included:

Being with all of the family.
Great food.
Laughter.
Singing carols.
So many amazing gifts.
Quiet time.
A great husband who loves me so much and whom I love so much.
Drinks!
Seeing old friends.

So...why have I been in this funk?

Because I'm a selfish immature child, that's why. You see, for my whole entire life my Christmas has been the same. The same food, the same people, the same time, the same place. This year, I got the same people, the same food, but the time and place were wrong and I got held up in that thought and it just made me push all that is good and right with the holidays to the back and brood like a baby. To myself I say GET OVER IT ALREADY!

There are people, very close to me, who do not have this in their lives and I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself. What a ninny! I have so much. So much more than most people have or will ever have and I am grateful for all of it.

I will, from this day forward, never forget how lucky I am. The next time I start feeling sorry for myself, someone just kick me...HARD!

I know, in my heart, that life is what happens when you're not looking. It's the quiet moments that matter...those times that sneak up on you and make you stop in your tracks to work to hear them. They're easy to miss. We have to work at it. But that's what makes them so worth it.

Into the New Year I plow! Forward! Upwards! Onwards! With only a little bit of looking back.

New hope for the new year...resolutions and whatnot...and SHE'S BACK!

2011-12-31T13:25:00.000-08:00

She's back! And just in time to light up my New Year!

I have to admit, I have been a big whiner this holiday season. I just had a really hard time getting into the spirit of things and when I did, something would come along and yank it back out of me again. It all started when I couldn't find this angel. That started me a memory road a mile long that always led me to the shores of Lake Melancholia. Oh, I celebrated Christmas with family and friends and got many amazing presents and got to see all the new babies in our family and you'd think that would be enough of a blessing but something felt "off" to me and I couldn't shake it.

So, here I am on New Year's Eve...with the lost angel shining her brightest and I realize that I am the only person who can change whatever it is that's feeling off. So, though I am loathe to make New Year's resolutions, this year, I shall. And I will do my damnedest to keep them too.

1. Lost weight. I know, I know...this is always everyone's #1 but, seriously, this has to be mine. I have never felt worse in my life and it's due to my weight...and that has to stop. So, I will cut back, get moving and start to enjoy life.

2. Save money. I'm concocting a plan to get frugal in 2012. Not quite sure what that means just yet but I want to put a good portion of my paycheck in savings for this year...and beyond.

3. Be creative. I've let my creative side lay dormant for a while now. Other than writing, I have neglected singing and sketching and painting and, yes, even acting. That is the best part of me and to have let it go is a sin. I have to get back to it.

4. Learn Swedish. I got Rosetta Stone for my birthday and I like it! I've done a couple of lessons now and I have to get more serious about it so I can say, with pride, that I speak two languages! Hey, if I can learn Swedish I might take a crack at Polish too!

5. Say I love you. Everyday. And mean it.

That's it. My top five and I'm stopping there. I don't want to overwhelm myself with too many goals and then feel like a failure if I miss them. So, that's it. Five things I will do in 2012. Doesn't seem all that bad, does it?

Christmas Memories...s

2011-12-23T23:55:00.001-08:00

More memories....

2011-12-23T18:10:00.000-08:00

When I was ten years old, that was a very rough year for me. A lot happened to me that year, some of it very good and some of it very bad. I started the year out getting hit by a car in the neighborhood. It was my fault. I was riding my best friend, Janet's new blue Schwinn and I rode right out the end of her drive way and into traffic. I hurt my left knee, scraped it up good. From the outside, there were no other injuries so my Mom swabbed Mercurochrome on it and wrapped a bandage on it and sent me on my way with a warning not to be so stupid. Years later, of course, there was damage to that knee and I have a hard time with it ever since but that's neither here nor there.

That summer something else bad happened to me but I'm not going to go into that now. One huge bad thing that I will write about - it felt bad at the time - was that my Dad sold his bar/restaurant that had been my only home and moved us to the dreaded "South side" of town. South side at that time is pretty much midtown these days but back then moving anywhere south of 60th street seemed like a whole other city! I didn't want to go! I was leaving everything I knew and loved and I was NOT happy about it. My sister, the only other sibling left at home, couldn't care less. She was going to be one block from St. Joe's where she went to school and that was a good thing for her. I was going to St. George's, back in the old neighborhood. The only reason I didn't have to change school was because my mom taught second grade at St. George's. So I got to stay there. If I had lost that too I would have been a nutcase that year!

So, we moved. And guess what? I made new friends in my new neighborhood and they were all pretty cool kids. And the neighbor had a pool so I didn't really even miss Lake Michigan all that much.

Then came Christmas...
Now I'm not sure how my mom packed our stuff when we were moving. I know that for about two months we couldn't find my gym shoes so I got out of gym class for that! At Christmas, we always put each ornament back in it's original boxes and carefully placed in three large trunks. It was that way every single year. But the year we moved, we couldn't find our angel anywhere. We had the coolest old angel on our tree. I think my parents got it back in the 30's and she was a bit worse for wear but she looked like Greta Garbo in sparkles and when you got her on the tree she shined like a goddess and it all was right with the world. Putting that angel on the tree was the grand finale to decorating. She was the last piece...the one we all waited for...long after the last strand of tinsel had been placed. Once she was there we all stood back in childlike wonder. And now...we moved and she was GONE!!

I couldn't take it. After all the horrible things that I had been through that year I needed that angel. I needed that small tattered harbinger of hope that everything was going to be okay...but she was gone. I wailed. I cried. I accused my mom of throwing her away. I was inconsolable. My poor mom searched everywhere for that angel. She was just plain gone.

That was my dad's cue. Now my dad was a peace loving man. He never liked conflicts of any kind which, as a kid, often could work to my advantage. If I wanted something and my mom said no, I could pitch just enough of a fit to have my dad given in. I was sneaky like that sometimes. On this night, however, my dad was the knight to the rescue. He told me that this was a new home and a new year was coming and we had to make sure that our tree was ready for all the good changes that would be coming our way. He put on my coat and hat and took me right then and there to Wilson's. Now, if you are from Kenosha, you remember Wilson's. You could get anything there. Even a myna bird. They had a hundred angels to choose from. Well, to a grief stricken ten year old it seemed like hundreds. It was probably more like 15. My dad told me to take my time. He said this wasn't something you rushed because that angel was going to be with us for a long time and we wanted to make sure she was the special one with the special blessings. I looked at all of them. They were all very pretty. Some in white and gold, some in green and red. And then there was her. The one in white with silver trim. She held onto two small candles that actually lit up when she was plugged in. But her face...that was what got me. She had this tiny, half-knowing, comforting smile on her porcelain face. I knew instantly she was the one.

That angel was on our tree for the next 40 years. When my mother moved out of her home, I took that angel home with me. Last year, she sat in front of our tiny table top tree with her candles glowing hopefully in the night. This year, I couldn't find her. I know she is here somewhere, just as my mother knew our old angel was somewhere back when I was ten. Maybe that's how the angels do it. They are here when we need them most and then they simply disappear and it's time to find a new angel to bring you special blessing for the next part of your life.

Christmas Memories...

2011-12-21T21:34:00.000-08:00

I've had a lot of Christmases in my lifetime so I thought I'd take the next few days to share a few of them. Some are good, some are not so good but all of them I hold in my heart.

One Christmas I will always remember is one that happened when I was about three years old. I think it's my earliest memory and I think I only remember it so well because we have photographs to prove it happened. I was a rough and tumble kind of kid. I loved to play and when I played, I played hard. Family photos show me looking very "ragamuffin" most of the time with dirt and food and whatnot all over me. One set of photos from a Christmas long ago was no different.

What I remember about that Christmas was two things, mainly. The first was the realization that all my siblings were home together at one time. I don't recall living with my older siblings at all! We have that large an age gap between us but I clearly remember being very excited when I three because my brother and older sisters were all at home and they loved to play with me and it was just a time of out and out fun! I remember decorating our big natural tree and then once all the huge, hot lights were on it I remember having tinsel on it, piece by piece. My mom let me do it even though I mostly put big clumps on the tree and not the dainty way she did it. No one uses tinsel anymore, do they? I know it was pretty much banned when it was discovered to have lead in it but there was nothing so beautiful as that huge tree shining with all the silver tinsel. I loved that. I remember lying on my back with my head under the tree looking up at the lights and the silver and thinking it was as close to heaven as a three year old could get.

This was also the year that I wanted to give gifts to my family. My mom let me take things from around the house and wrap them and put them under the tree. I think I gave her her own spatula for Christmas that year and I remember giving my sister a potato. Haha! It's the thought that counts and I wanted to give them something.

But the best part of that Christmas was what I found on Christmas morning. Santa never let me down and I am still a firm believer that he does exist. In my stocking, every year like clockwork, there were peanuts, an orange, an apple and a banana and one Chocolate Santa. I got this same stocking year after year into adulthood and it was the best stuff on earth. There was no need for tons of candy or silly stocking stuffers. That orange, apple, banana and peanuts were like magic to me. I looked forward to them each year. But Santa also brought me something amazing that year. I got a baby doll almost as big as me who said "Mama" when you tipped her over and I got a red and white tricycle. I have a photo somewhere of me, with my Dutch boy hair cut, a mess of a sweater with some left over breakfast on it, my new tricycle and my brother all looking happy and having a blast.

I love Christmas to this day but I don't think we ever really appreciate it as much as when we were little. This year my family will have a whole new batch of brand new babies to celebrate with and I hope that seeing Christmas through a child's eyes will take me right back to that wonderful place of tinsel, oranges, baby dolls and tricycles.

Approaching Christmas...

2011-12-19T19:11:00.000-08:00

As the days wind closer to Christmas and the New Year, I've been doing a lot of thinking. A LOT! Mostly, I've been thinking about how I have to get control of myself and start taking better care of me. These past couple of weeks I have been in a lot of pain with tendinitis and arthritis and then a cold that keeps coming and going again and again. I have felt exhausted and achy and I hate that I feel so impaired! A simple trip to the grocery store just about did me in. I can do better than this for myself and I'm determined to do it.

You see, I have a lot of things I want to do and I have to be in my best health to do it. I want to go to Sweden and if I'm not walking well or aching all over, that long flight and traveling would be a killer. I want to be able to walk through the streets of Stockholm without feeling like I'm not going to make it! I just had a birthday and Ive been feeling rather old and useless ever since. Now I know that's all in my head and I have to do the things I need to do in order to get it out of there!

I am not worthless...or old. I'm totally worth it.

So, today I started to take care of me. All day long, thinking of what's best for me and why. And you know what? It feels pretty damn good. Not selfish, like I thought it might, but just really good.

So, as I approach Christmas, I will celebrate. I'll celebrate the togetherness, the quiet peace that is Christmas. I'll celebrate my family and their individual gifts. And, best of all, I will celebrate me. The me I was meant to be.

Winding down...

2011-12-07T07:46:00.000-08:00

This year has been an incredible roller coaster full of ups and downs and loop de loops. Some of it has been exciting and very good. Some of it has been stressful and very sad.

Last year, my mother made the decision to move in with my sister and her family. In her 90's she was not able to care for her home any longer. She came to this decision on her own and that was a blessing. I've heard horror stories of families having to force their elderly parents out of their homes leaving them traumatized and angry. Mom decided this for herself in her own time. It was also a blessing that she was there with my sister last Christmas Eve because that was the day, while getting ready for our Christmas Eve get together, she suddenly had a stroke. That was the event that defined how the next 12 months would be.

Initially, we were hopeful, yet scared. Mom did all the therapy asked of her and tried very hard to regain her movement and language skills. But, at 93, it was too much for her. For the next 12 months she showed a steady decline and now can barely speak anything that makes sense. She eats very little and so has lost an enormous amount of weight and the pressure of her bones against her thin skin has left her riddled with sores that will not heal. She is assisted in every aspect of her life - eating, dressing, toileting and communicating. This frustrates and tires her out. My sister, who is an angel, patiently altered her own life to become my mother's chief care giver. She has made the journey from task master - getting my mother to cooperate with therapy - to gentle companion - making mom as comfortable as she can. My mom is on the end of her life rope and it's been painful watching her natural decline. She never wanted this end for herself but she is tolerating it with quiet wisdom and deep faith. One of these days, her God will bless her and finally take her. It will be a blessing for us all.

Also this year, another person in my life had been fighting the good fight against cancer and leukemia. My brother in law's cousin was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and underwent treatment that ravaged her health and took her hair. She made it through and triumphed over the cancer, started growing her hair back and started living again. Her victory was short lived because shortly after she was diagnosed with leukemia. Still not 100% after the initial cancer treatment, she began treatment for the leukemia. Apparently, it didn't work. Judy passed away Sunday morning. She was 62.

Those were the low points of the year. But the year wasn't all low because this year my family welcomed the birth of four new babies - Isaac, Logan, Chelsea and Indy. Our family continues to grow and, in spite of our losses and sadness, we have had many chances to celebrate with great joy.

I guess such is life. We cannot know the good times if we do not experience the bad. We would have nothing to compare it to. So, we say good bye to those we loved and will love forever and hello to new souls who will fill our dark days with smiles and laughter. Such is life. And life is good.

Holding onto Christmas...

2011-12-04T17:12:00.000-08:00

Most people who know me know that I love Christmas. I do..truly. I'm one of those people who get a real kick out of crowded shops, Salvation Army bell ringers, snow, and decorating. I love planning what I'll get everyone, going out to get it and even wrapping it up.

This year, however, feels different to me. I'm mildly excited that Christmas is coming. I'm trying to put together a good one with a tree and lights and other decor. But everything I do seems so haphazard, without much thought, and basically is being done just so it gets done. Yesterday I went to Stien's to get a tree. I had hoped, once again, that the spirit of Christmas would somehow seep in while looking at all the colorful lights and decorations. But it didn't. The trip there became a lesson in patience and basically got cut short because it was obvious that the spirit wasn't showing up.

I even watched "It's a Wonderful Life" last night. I teared up a bit at the end but not like I used to and there was no camaraderie or popcorn or hot chocolate to enjoy with the movie. So it was me, playing on my computer, half watching the film and half not caring that it was even on. That's so unlike me.

I don't know where the spirit of Christmas went. I'm grasping at anything that will bring it back in my life. Even now as I sit here next to our little tree, all decked out in it's holiday finest, it just looks like a "thing" to me. No special meaning, no awe, no nothing.

There is some time before the actual holiday for me to get the groove back. I hope I do. Christmas was always a time of joy and wonder for me. A time to feel like a kid again. I hate that I feel that being slowly sucked away. I will hang onto it as long as I can and maybe, just maybe, I will get a Christmas miracle.

Ending the weekend with a boo hoo...

2011-11-28T12:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was weird. I just had a really bad day overall. I'm not sure when it started because I seemed to just wake up in a funk and stayed there pretty much all day.

I think the problem was that I had sort of geared myself up for a romanticized first day of Advent. Now, I'm not the most religious person and the only reason the first day of Advent is important to me is that it's the day I start getting ready for Christmas. This is definitely a throwback to my Catholic days. I know that in the Catholic doctrine, Advent is the time to prepare for the coming of the Lord. So, I guess in the same vein, it's what I do...just without the religious take. Anyway...I'm getting off track.

So, I got up all ready to get stuff done.

The first thing that went wrong was I couldn't find the lights for the windows anywhere. I searched high and low. And I mean it...high and low and all over the place. I got bupkiss. Alex later reminded me that we had thrown out the lights from last year because one of the cat's chewed through the cord. Ah yes...now I remember. He found the suitcase of Christmas ornaments and there were extra lights in there so I was able to get them up but still it was a very frustrating couple of hours.

The next thing that happened was that the very beautiful large Swedish Advent star that I recently purchased needed to be put together and hung in the window. I've wanted one of these stars ever since the first time I ever went to Sweden. Everyone puts them in their windows (And I mean everyone!) and they light up the long dark days and nights. It's almost magical to see it. So I was chuffed to find them at IKEA and couldn't wait to get it together and in the window. Well, it went together easily but they neglected to include the light bulb. I went to the store to get one that would work but they didn't have the right ones. So, no Advent star. I got so frustrated I took it all apart and threw it in the closet.

The final thing that happened was the kicker. Last year, we sold my mom's house and one thing I saved from her home was the angel that my Dad and I bought years ago for the top of our tree. She is all silver and holds two small candles that light up. I searched everywhere. I can't find her. And that's when I had a complete meltdown and just sat there and cried like a baby.

Maybe it was the culmination of the long weekend of celebrating and being over tired or something. Maybe it was just two many frustrations coming at me at once or maybe it was the silly thought that the angel was gone for good. Whatever it was...it wasn't pretty and I was glad when the day ended.

On the upside, Alex made sure the night ended in a good way and for that I am forever grateful. Love that guy...I really do.

Rethinking prosperity...

2011-11-25T09:59:00.000-08:00

This morning, the day after Thanksgiving here in the US, I am sitting at my desk, nursing a hang over, and reading. Ironically, I just read two separate articles that have started me to think.

The first was about a group of individuals who have forged ahead and are what we call "self made" millionaires. They found something they loved to do or believed in and stuck with it until they got others to believe too. Now, they are among the richest people in the US but, overwhelmingly, they're advice to others is "Live within your means" and "Do what you love."

The second article was about how the average citizen is beginning to "rethink" their personal definition of prosperity. As the line between the rich and poor becomes an even greater divide these days and as the middle classes dwindle to non-existence, people are beginning to take note of what is really important in their lives. Because they know they will never see great wealth, they're beginning to see the wisdom of "living within their means" and "doing what they love".

I've been a long time proponent of doing what I love. I'm realistic enough to know that I have to work for a living so I made sure that what I do for a living is something I really love doing. It will never make me rich in monetary terms, but it has made me a millionaire a thousand times over in personal growth, inner satisfaction and self worth. I did find it interesting that in both these articles the wealthy and the not so wealthy have come to the same conclusion. Perhaps the emotional divide between the classes is not as great as the financial divide. And maybe, if enough people find a way to do what they love the world would be a little happier over all.

Rest in Peace...Imemine

2011-11-19T11:36:00.001-08:00

Yesterday, I got some news that made me very sad. Someone I have worked with making music passed away suddenly. I have written songs and recorded them with a number of talented musicians from all over the world. I have never met any of them face to face except for Alexander.

The man who passed away went by the artist name Imemine. His real name was Roger. I don't even know his last name. What I knew of Roger was this - he loved his family, worked hard to make a living and that included traveling for work which constantly took him away from that family he loved. He was a grand musician who, because of his work, didn't get nearly enough time to make music. He was funny and enjoyed a good laugh. He was opinionated and didn't shy away from hot topics. He sometimes blew up and would get angry and let people know it. Even though I never met him I considered him a friend, of sorts.

There are many people "in my life" whom I've never really met. My Internet life is full of people that I have come to know and, yes, care about. I wonder how that's even possible. How is it possible to feel grief over someone I've never laid eyes on other than a blurry digital photo on a website. For some of the people I'm "met" on the Internet, I have at least heard their voices either through their music or from chatting. For others, I only know them from their status updates, their tweets and the occasional email. Yet, in some small way, they are my friends. Not the kind I'd feel comfortable with stopping by their house or anything. But I do feel their sadness when they are sad, their joy when they are joyful. And when I heard that Roger died yesterday, I did cry.

Once Roger was flying into Milwaukee and had a short layover for his work. He emailed me that morning and asked me to drive up there to have a beer with him. It was a weekday and I was at work so I couldn't go. I wish I had. I really wish I had. I know Roger was somebody I would have really liked in real life, not just Internet life.

Cheers, brother. Have a beer on me. And thank you for all of the wonderful music, my friend.

Please...I've asked you....no photos!

2011-11-13T12:24:00.001-08:00

Sometimes getting a picture of Arnie is difficult. He can be such a diva!

World Traveller...

2011-11-11T19:19:00.000-08:00

So, next year, sometime around the Swedish Midsommar (I hope), Alex and I will be taking off to spend some time in Sweden. I can't wait. I love traveling. I watch travel shows with a passion and shows where people up and move to a new country. It's my dream and one day I hope it will come true. Until then, there are several places on my bucket list. So, there they are in no particular order.

Sweden. What's that, you say? I've already been there? Well, yes, that's true. I have been to Stockholm, Karlstad, and Gotland but there are so many other beautiful areas of Sweden that I have to keep it on my list. Who am I kidding! Sweden is my dream home but I do want to see it all. Goteberg, Uppsala, the great northern Laplands, spend a couple of night in the ice hotel and see the Northern Lights as they are meant to be seen. Beautiful!

Ireland. This is the land of my grandparents and I have friends who have been there and they've reported that it's the greenest, most friendly place in the world. I long to have a pint at the local pub and sing songs with the locals.

Poland. Also the land of my grandparents. I want to walk the historic streets and see where the world took over and tried to kill the Polish spirit. I want to revel in the tenacity of a people so strong in their country and conviction that they survived it all and still have a national pride and quiet soul that cannot be matched.

Russia. As a kid I used to look at travel books and marvel at the surreal beauty of Russian architect from the days of Czar Nicholas. It's all still there and I want to see it for myself. There is a mystery and romance to old Russia, not to mention the political history that once challenged the world.

Japan. As a teen ager I had a pen pal in Tokyo who, for a short time, would send me the most amazing photos of temples and Japanese gardens. So serene. Later, I would see images of modern day Tokyo with it's bustle and lights and all I could think of was I want to see that for myself! My brother was stationed in Japan for a while and I had always hoped to go over to visit him while he was there but I never got the chance. Now, Japan is on my list so one day...

Thailand. My brother was also stationed in Thailand for a time. The photos he would send back showed a land of great beauty, people of deep dignity and views of panoramic proportions that took my breath away. I watched in horror ask the tsunami ravaged Phucket and the coastal areas and tales of death and destruction came daily on the news. Now, it's all coming back. Returning to it's natural beauty and previous stunning glory. I want to see it.

China. My friend Arsh just came back from China and his photos of him standing on the Great Wall are amazing. I have to see it. I just have to!

New Zealand. I've seen views of green tree covered cliffs falling off into waterfalls of crystal blue. Seriously. Who wouldn't want to go there?

Africa. I know, that's an enormous continent and there are so many parts I would love to see. I would love to see the Zinder bush in Niger. I've befriended a fellow blogger who works for an organization there called the Eden Foundation which teaches local indigenous people what can grow and be harvested for good, nutritious meals thereby erasing famine. Want to see that! Also want to see Victoria Falls! Want to go on safari to see wild beasts close up and sleep under the African stars while hearing lions panting just yards away. I want to wash an elephant in a river and see hippos in their natural habitat.

Not to be outdone, the US has some places I have yet to see and they are also on my list.
Hawaii. Again, a nephew was living there and I missed the chance to go visit him. Ah well, Hawaii is still on the list and I have to see it.

Alaska. I want to take one of those Alaskan cruises to see whales beaching and sea lions playing. Alaska is one of our last wild lands in the US and I hope I can see it before it's gone.

Yosemite! I have never been there! I want to see it and camp there and take it all in!

Oh there are so many places I want to see. I wish I was independently wealthy and could just plan these trips and go. Until then I will be reading about them, and watching the Travel Channel and wishing and hoping and dreaming.

Why We Love Kim Kardashian...

2011-11-02T07:01:00.001-07:00

The other day when I left work there were emergency vehicles about a block away. A landmark Kenosha restaurant/hall was on fire. Traffic was blocked from going anywhere near it. Even though my car was parked facing north, I made a u-turn to go take a look or get as close as I could to taking a look. I was compelled to see what was going on.

I recall last summer, I was driving to Racine, a city just north of Kenosha, and there was traffic stopped on Highway 31. We were slowly diverted past a car accident where there were ten squad cars, three fire trucks and two ambulances. Clearly, it was a very bad accident yet, as I made my way past it, I couldn't help but look to see if I could see what happened. There's something fascinating about accidents and fires and whatnot. Our human nature makes us have to look.

Thus it is with the Kardashians. Or the Snooky's or any other of the so-called "stars" that take up space in our weekly magazines, newspapers and nightly news shows. If we step back and ask ourselves, just what is it that these people do anyway, the answer is...nothing. There is no discernible talent there. They don't sing. They can't act. They're not particularly bright. They are just there. The product of some remarkable marketing and P. R. wizardry that make them as compelling as a car wreck. We don't want to see it, but we can't help but look.

A few weeks ago, Kim Kardashian got married. It was all over the news. Her smiling face peering back from the magazine racks at the grocery store. Hurrah! She got married. This week, she is getting divorced. Again, all over the news. (Hey, isn't there a war going on somewhere? A financial crisis? Something??) Her mother is on TV talking about how strong Kim is and how hard this is on her. Her sisters are on TV talking about how she'll get through this because they're so close. Kim Kardashian is getting divorced. Hurrah!

Those who know me know that I love reality TV. I am a huge fan of Survivor! I watch American Idol. I confess...I have been known to sit through several episodes of Big Brother. For the life of me, I cannot see the attraction of the Kardashian's or any of the so-called "stars" of her ilk. (Yes, I used the word ilk...) To me they are useless reminders that we - the collective we - are not rich enough, pretty enough, go to enough or the right parties, can't travel enough, will never have enough money to open our own businesses, will never have enough money to care if those businesses fail. We will never be Kardashian. For some people, being Kardashian becomes an unachievable goal. Especially for those girls who idolize her. Maybe she is a nice person and wants love and caring like the rest of us. But, maybe living her life on TV and pushing her life into ours might not be the way to go about it. She, and others like her, are a train wreck and we are all craning our necks to see it.

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-29T16:03:00.000-07:00

This is Halloween weekend and I am stoked! I love this holiday almost as much as Christmas and the funny thing is that I do very little for this holiday. Well, little is relative, I guess.

For the past few years, my sister and I have put on costumes to hand out our trick or treat candy. We sit outside and swarms of kids come to our house. I love thinking of what we can be each year. One year we were the creepiest clowns ever! And I hate clowns. Last year, we got Alex into the act and we were two zombie brides and he was the zombie groom. We looked creepy and, most appropriately, dead! This year, in honor of Alex's Swedishness, we three are going to be Vikings! And not the purple Minnesota loser football kind either. We're going to be the horned helmet wearing, sword bearing, fur covered kind. I have about half a costume right now and yards of fake fur that I have to contend with yet but, rest assured, by Trick or Treat time tomorrow, we'll be ready!

This year we carved some jack o'lanterns too. I haven't done that in a while because that's always been more fun if someone is there to do it with you and this year someone was. I ended up doing both but they turned out pretty good, in my own humble opinion. They're out on the porch right now, awaiting the tea lights so they can glow in the Halloween night!

I remember looking forward to Halloween as a kid. We rarely spent a dime on our costumes. If we had anything purchased it was usually a mask of some sort. Everything else was left to us and Mom to create. One year I was Batman. The old Adam West Batman too...not the new Christian Bale Batman. I had a mask. That was it. My mom made a cape out of an old towel and my Dad let me wear his old tool belt for the Batman utility belt. The thing was, everybody knew exactly who I was supposed to be and they thought my costume was great! So did I. I wore it around the house until Thanksgiving!

Trick or Treating back then wasn't during special hours or during the day, for that matter. We freely scoured all of Kenosha, parent-free, with not just a small pumpkin candy bag but a huge pillow case and by the time we were done we had been to the far ends of town and that pillow case was full! Mom would go through all of the candy when we got home but homemade treats were okay to eat and most of them were delicious! I used to hate the people that gave out raisins. RAISINS! Really? EW.
Of course, our town was smaller back then and we knew mostly everyone in it. People were more trustworthy then. Or were they really? Or was it just that we were less scared of each other. We live in a world of media that keeps us on high alert at all times. It's no wonder we won't eat a cookie made by our neighbors. They're probably murderers, child molesters, or terrorists. Funny thing is, in my entire life, I have never personally known or even heard of anyone in our town that has been harmed in any way by a home made caramel apple. Ah, well...I digress.

Anyway, I do love Halloween. I love the darkness, the scariness, the fun of dressing up and being a little silly for a while. I love it so much I already know what I'm doing to be for next year! :)

How do you measure personal growth?

2011-10-28T08:21:00.000-07:00

I work in Social Work. For the past 17 years, I have seen trends in Social Work come and go. Currently, we used Motivational interviewing and Illness Management and Recovery techniques to help people move forward in their recovery journeys. Now, the people in charge of our mental health programs are looking for "measurable" goals. I get it. It means, if someone has a goal for themself how do we, the workers, measure their progress. It makes sense from a beauracratic point of view because in this day and age of cut backs and diminishing budgets, the government wants hard data to show that people are getting better.

I'm conflicted about the methods being bantered about as to how to do this. I believe that individuals are their own best measuring tool. Unfortunately, the tools we're given want to measure things in percentages. For example, if someone states their goal as "I want to be more socialable." The tools ask us to give this a percentage which might look like "Joe will attend Social Group 3x per month." Now that doesn't look so bad except I have to wonder if Joe only shows up for 2x per month, does make Joe a failure? Or what if Joe increases to 5x per month, does that make him an overachiever? The problem I have is that these measurable goals say very little about Joe's personal experience at that social group. It leans more toward making poor Joe another statistic than seeing him as a human being.

I remember 17 years ago, when I was just starting out, these types of percentage goals were very much the norm. Case management was like being a broker and all we managed was numbers, not people. It saddens me to think that we seem to have come full circle. I hope that there is a way to keep the person at the center of it all. I wish there was some way to convince funding sources and government agencies that just talking to people is the best measure of how successful a person is in achieving their goals. And, when someone is living with a mental illnes, those goals are fluid, they change, they take small steps and relapse is expected but not devestating. Isn't that the way it should be for all of us?

Ah, memories...

2011-10-25T16:19:00.000-07:00

So I was derpin around Facebook trying to think of something to write about here when I heard the neighborhood kids playing outside. They were playing that great old game, "Red Light, Green Light". I'm not sure if that's played elsewhere in the states or the world but I clearly remember playing that when I was a kid. It's a great game where one kid is "it" and the others line up. "It" has his/her back to the line up and then he/she yells 'Green light" which means the line up gets to try to sneak up on "it" but...then "it" quickly turns around and yells, "RED LIGHT!" meaning "STOP!" of course. If "it" catches even the slightest movement the offending party is sent back to the start line and has to try again.

The first part of the childhood was spent playing games like this on what was then known as the "north side" of Kenosha, across the street from Union Park, a few blocks from the small boat harbor. Funny but we never played much in the park because we would have to cross two lanes of traffic on 7th avenue so instead we played down at the harbor. Because, you know, playing near a large body of deep water is so much safer. What? But that's how it was back then.

We had a rule in our house. If you weren't cleaning your room or doing your homework you had better be outside - rain or shine! We came back for dinner and then out again until the street light came on. Once that happened we had to get home for baths and to get ready for bed. Red Light, Green Light was just one of the great games we played. We also played Kick the Can, Round the Moon, Graveyard, and Statues. I have no idea where these games came from or who started them but all the kids knew them! Statues was a particularly strange game. Again, someone had to be "it" and someone was the museum owner. The rest of us would get spun around until we were senseless and frozen into whatever heap we landed in. Then the person who was "it" would come to the museum to purchase a statue. The owner would take "it" to each one of the statues and "it" would ask "what does this one do". We then had to come up with some kind of animated statue like "I'm a puppy" and the owner would push an imaginary button and the "puppy" would crawl around barking until he pushed the off button. Then, once they had seen all the statues, "it" would choose one to buy and that person then got to be "it". Like I said, strange game but we all liked playing it!

Another really strange game was something we called "Chinese Tag" though I have no idea why it was Chinese. It was your basic game of tag, someone is "it", chasing everyone else around to try to tag them but the catch was if you got tagged, you had to kiss whomever was "it". This was a great game for the more mature girls in the neighborhood who were already swooning over who we thought was cuter by age 10. But, inevitably, that one kid in the neighborhood that always had a runny nose and drooled a lot would get the short stick and have to be "it". Well, we weren't stupid! We would take off and run away and hide and it would be game over. No one wanted to kiss that kid!! EW!!

When I was in the fourth grade my family moved into a new house on the "south" side of town, near St. Joe's High School. I was terrified because I didn't know anyone and I wasn't sure what to do. Imagine my surprise when the kid next door turned out to be way cool, best friends, and the "south side" kids played all the exact same games we did on the "north side"! I fit right in!

The great thing about these games was you could play them with any number of kids and you didn't need any special equipment to play them. All it took was a little energy and a little imagination and you were golden. Some of them, like Graveyard and Round the Moon, were best played in the dark, just before that streetlight came on. We'd often try to stretch that time out as much as possible until you could hear mom's calling out all over the block.

"Mary! Janet! Time to come home!!"

Funny how just taking time to listen can spur on the memories. Even now, the kids are still out there and I can hear them yelling, "Ollie Ollie Oxen Free!" which, if you don' t know, is the all clear sign to come out, come out, wherever you are!

A brief moment of hamster...

2011-10-20T17:57:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, we lived within walking distance of the downtown Kenosha area. In those days, pre-mall, downtown was where it was at! Our downtown had all the stores anyone would ever need. There was Lepp's and Garb's - high end ladies fashion. Those were two stores we could only dream of shopping in because they were priced way out of our league. There was Bidinger's - the music store. That was one of those great places where you could listen to the album before you decided to buy it. There was Phillip's. Phillip's was the store everyone went to when they needed a wedding gift. Lots of crystal and glassware, silver sets and china. Very upscale! There was Barden's - another mostly clothing store but not too pricey. It was the only store in town that I could buy those cotton handkerchiefs my Mom used. I would always get her a couple of new ones for Christmas. Barden's had an elevator! That was almost unheard of back then in Kenosha. There weren't a lot of two or three story buildings that had elevators for public use. And they also had this cool system when you purchased something. The sales clerk would attach your receipt or check on a chord and pulley thing that sent it to the main office upstairs. To me, as a kid, that was mysterious and cool! Another great store was Dickelman's. Dickelman's was the premiere toy store in town. Remember, this was before Toys r Us or any of those big chain store. Dickelman's was magical! Just looking in the window made me want everything in the store. I would make a mental Christmas list whenever I walked by!

But, by far, my all-time favorite store in downtown Kenosha was Woolworth's. At Woolworth's you could get anything you wanted. You needed buttons? They had 'em. You needed shoelaces and wanted to pick up the latest teen magazine? Woolworth's was the place to be. They had a great lunch counter where you could get real french fries and a soda and they even treated you nicely if you were a little kid. There was a photo booth to stick a quarter in and take goofy pictures with your pals. If you went up the escalator, there were knickknacks galore! My favs were the posed horse statues. I used to collect those when I was 8 or 9 years old. In the back of the store, past the Notions, you could even buy a pet!

Way in the back, Woolworth's sold small pets - parakeets, turtles, gold fish, white mice, gerbils and hamsters. I loved that aisle. I would go in there and watch those critters for hours and, sometimes, the lady back there would let me hold them too. My Dad got some parakeets there once. Mickey and Mikey were the terror of our living room because my Dad thought they should have free range. My Mom would curse at them as they would swoop down and try to nip the bobby pins from her hair. My brother brought home a series of doomed turtles. He would get them and keep them in one of those little plastic turtles dishes with the island and plastic palm tree in it. I say they were doomed because most of the time he would forget about them and they would die! Once he thought his turtle looked cold so he put it's habitat on the radiator. Well, they're supposed to be cold, you see, so that one didn't last long! My sister brought home a white mouse once. She carried it around in her sweater pocket where ever she went which, it seems, did not amuse the nuns at St. Joe's. I guess they frown upon bringing rodents to school. Go figure.

Oh, I had about a thousand goldfish from Woolworth's. Goldfish are a sort of disposable pet though. None of them lived very long in spite of my best efforts to keep their bowl clean and feed them everyday. My favorite pets to get at Woolworth's were hamsters. Cute little furry hamsters that I could hold and play with. I had three of them. Not all at once but three in a row. I think the first one I got was sick when I got him. I have always had this thing about taking in those creatures that look like no one else would ever want them and it was no different with that first hamster. I think the sales lady knew it was sick too because she gave me a discount and some free hamster stuff to go with it. I named him Rocky. Not after the Stallone character, he was named after the flying squirrel. If you're too young to know who that is, google it, you baby! Rocky died after about one month. I was so sad. My Dad helped me bury him in the back yard. He even gave him a little Irish blessing.

"May you be in heaven a half an hour before the Devil knows you're dead!" That was my Dad!

The second hamster, Priscilla, lived almost a a full year. He was great! Yes, Priscilla was a he. Hey, I was a kid! What did I know? I'm not exactly sure what killed Priscilla. I came home one day from school and he was lying motionless in his cage. Another sad burial and that was that! I was completely freaked out one day later when I saw that my dog, Do-Do, had dug poor Priscilla up and was batting him around like a hockey puck! The third, and final, hamster had the briefest existence known to hamsterdom. I saved my own allowance money and walked down to Woolworth's on a Saturday morning with the sole intention of getting myself another hamster. My Mom gave me her blessing and off I went. I took a long time deciding which one to get. The lady in the store let me hold and pet all of the available hamsters and finally;...FINALLY...I decided on a cute little red furry hamster whom I immediately named Georgie. The sales lady put him in one of the those cool small animal boxes with the breathing holes on the side. I gladly paid my...what was it...$2? Maybe $3? (I can't remember what hamsters were going for back then) and I ran all the way back to my block. Before I went home I stopped at my friend Janet's house to show her my new little furry friend. Sitting at her kitchen table, I gently opened the box and carefully lifted Georgie out to show her. Just as I was lifting him up he bit me! I mean, that little sucker really bit me!! He chomped down on my finger so hard and it took my by such surprise that I flinched, instinctively, and flapped my fingers as if flicking a booger! Georgie let go and flew across the kitchen suddenly smashing into the wall. He fell to the floor...deader than a doornail. That's right. My hamster Georgie lived all of 20 minutes in my care. I couldn't believe it. I was numb. I picked up his limp, lifeless body and put it back in the box. I walked home, all alone, and buried him in the back yard. When I walked into the house my Mom saw that I didn't have a new hamster with me and wondered where the heck I had been! I just walked to my room and lay down on my bed. I didn't talk about Georgie for the rest of the day. And, I never had another hamster in my life!

I see hamsters now, at Petco and Petland, and I think they're cute and think maybe it would be nice to have one. But then I think about Georgie and his short, traumatic life and I just walk on by!

In praise of Mucinex...

2011-10-18T20:30:00.000-07:00

Every year about this time, my seasonal allergies kick in and my sinuses conspire to kill me. My head fills up like a balloon and my nose either runs like Niagra Falls making me choke at odd intervals or stops up completely and prevents me from breathing normally. This year it is particularly bad leaving me to hope for that first hard frost when finally all that nasty pollen and leaf junk will stop blowing around.

I live for Benadryl at this time of year. Benadryl is that amazing little allergy medicine that takes the itchiness out of my running eyes and blocked up ears. But most of all I live for Mucinex!

Mucinex is a wonder drug. It's a huge horse pill that you can buy over the counter but costs an arm and a leg to get. Just choke down one of those lovely large pills and suddenly the nose is clear, the drainage stops, the eyes stop running, and, ahhhhh, I can breathe freely.

Today at work I was out of Mucinex. Around 3pm I couldn't take it anymore. I wasn't even able to talk on the phone because I kept choking on my own...well, you know. I knew my co-worker had some Mucinex...in her desk...and she was not at work. What to do!?
I mean, I am not the sort that rifle through other peoples' personal space but I was in desperate need! Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I really couldn't. I had to get it. So I did it. I opened her drawer and opened her medicine box and here it was...one last lovely Mucinex. So I took it! I felt horrible for doing it too but I was going downhill fast.

After work I 'fessed up. I met my co-worker for dinner and told her I had rifled through her drawer. She didn't care. But I was still full of guilt and couldn't rest until I told her! All those years of Catholic school I guess!

So all's well that ends well. But seriously, if you have allergies...Mucinex D. Highly recommend it!

Growing up Irish...

2011-10-17T07:54:00.001-07:00

The other half of me is Irish. My Dad would say that's the "good" half. My Mom would beg to differ.

My Dad was fully Irish, through and through, and no one could have been prouder of his heritage than my Dad. He was born in the US, the son of an Irish immigrant and and a US beauty. My Dad inherited my Grandfather's love of whimsy and story telling. My Dad could tells some whoppers! He could also sing in a brilliant Irish tenor tone. But one of his best talents was his ability to argue almost anything at all. This, unfortunately, was one of the traits I got from him.

Growing up with an Irish Dad and a Polish Mom, each of whom were equally as headstrong, I can attest to witnessing many interesting and amusing arguments. My Dad would argue to the point of frustration, barely getting his voice over a normal volume and never resorting to name calling. He was, in fact, one of the master's of remaining calm and collected even when in the heat of an argument. That, of course, made his opponent, most notably my Mom, go completely crazy by the end. I don't know if making a Polish lady usually results in their losing the ability to make sense but that's what would happen to my Mom. She would reach the apex of shear frustration and finally end her part of the argument with something like "You don't know your arse from a hole in the ground!" Occasionally, it would come out as "You don't know your hole from an arse in the ground!" which would always send us kids into fits of laughter.

My Irish Dad often dreamed about going to Ireland one day. He read book after book about County Clare and County Cork - the areas from whence his people came. He loved Joe Feeney. Remember him? The Irish tenor on the Lawrence Welk Show. Lawrence Welk was from North Dakota, as were my parents, and they had, on several occasions, seen Mr. Welk and his Orchestra when they were just a travelling band in the Dakotas. Whenever Joe Feeney was on TV, we kids had to "shut it" and not make a peep. Once, when I was in high school, Joe Feeney came to St. Joe's. I think I was the only kid in my class that actually knew who he was!

Every St. Patrick's Day, we got dolled up in as much green as we could find. My Dad had a Kelly green cardigan sweater that he wore year after year. When he passed away, I took that sweater and held onto it for a long time. I could smell his Old Spice after shave in it and holding onto it brought back such good memories.

Ah, me Dad...for him we bastardized the words to the song "Harrigan" from the old James Cagney film, "Yankee Doodle Dandy". My maiden name was Kelleher so, for us, the song goes like this...

K-E-double L-E - HER spells Kelleher!
Proud of all the Irish blood that's in me,
Devil the man who says a word agin me!
K-E-double l-E-HER you see?
It's a name that no shame
Has ever been connected with,
Kelleher! That's me!

Erin go bragh, Dad!

Growing up Polish...

2011-10-14T13:07:00.000-07:00

I realize that the name of my blog indicates that I'm Polish but I have said very little about what that has meant to me throughout my life. I am Polish on my mother's side. She is 100% Polish. Her father, my Grandfather, was born in Poland though we have two birth certificates for him and one of them says he was born in Germany. That's because at various times throughout it's history Poland was occupied by Germany, then liberated, then occupied again. He was definitely Polish. Stanislaus Rezske was his given name. When he came to the US he was called Stanley. My Grandmother was born here in the US, the first US born daughter to a Polish immigrant family. So, you see, I have strong Polish roots.

Growing up, my mother would lace her conversation with "splashes" of Polish language. When we asked what was for dinner, which we did incessantly, she was get frustrated and tell us we were having "piat". Later, I found out that was the slang equivalent to crap. If we were acting like fools, which we did frequently, she would calls us a "bunch of dupas"! Again, later I realized she was calling us asses. When my mother would be with her sisters they would talk about growing up on the old farm and the great Polish food my Grandmother used to make. For us, Polish food is now synonymous with Christmas.

Being raised before Vatican 2 meant that we good Catholics (well, I was at that time) could not eat meat before Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. We would have an early dinner of smoke salmon and salads. Then later, after Midnight Mass, which back then was truly at Midnight so after Midnight Mass usually meant 2 or 3 AM, we would have a Polish Christmas breakfast. This consisted of kishka, kielbasa, cookies, cakes, eggs, and home made cinnamon rolls. Kishka is a Polish sausage made of pigs blood. Kielbasa is a fattier smoked sausage. Delicious! We would sing carols and open our gifts on Christmas Eve staying up into the wee hours of the morning. It was magical. It still is and we still always have kishka and kielbasa each Christmas Eve.

A while ago my sister came across a cassette of my mom and one of her sister's singing Polish Christmas carols in Polish. It's priceless.

So what does it mean to be Polish? It means good food, good fun, hard work ethic, and strong, unbreakable family ties. I thank Stanislaus and Anna for that. My Grandparents instilled that in their girls and they've passed it on to their children. I'm proud of my Polish side. And my Irish side too. But there will be more about that side at another time!

Why are women so weird?

2011-10-13T13:48:00.000-07:00

As a woman, I am often flabbergasted at the things I hear that some of my fellow women put up with or do in their relationships. Chalk it up to the way I was brought up but if any man in my life put his hands on me in a threatening or intimidating way, I would have his ass locked up faster than the proverbial speeding bullet. I work in the field of social work and I hear, again and again, of women who keep going back or attracting the same type of brutes. Some of them have been seriously hurt, almost to the point of death. I know it can take years of therapy to get the woman to break the cycle and realize she deserves better but it still disturbs me when I hear of this.

It also disturbs me when I hear someone talking about their partner cheating on them and they are angry with the other woman but want to stay with the man whose done the cheating. Seriously? He slept with someone else. That means he's not that into you any more and has probably done this before and will do this again. I cannot think of any reason compelling enough to stay. I say take the butthole for all he's worth and move on with your life. He's a loser.

In that same vein, what is with these other women who are fully aware that this dreamboat they just slept with has a girlfriend or, even worse, a wife and kids. I've heard co-workers talking about their "situations" like this were the "other woman" wants to confront the wife and fight her! REALLY??? We live in a Jerry Springer world, for sure. All I can say is LADIES HAVE SOME SELF RESPECT!! Any man that will cheat on his wife of 14 years with you will turn around and cheat on you sooner or later. And where are your morals that you would tear that family to shreds so easily. There are a lot of men out there. Go get one that's unattached and doesn't come with baggage. If he does leave his wife, and that's a big IF, he will be paying her alimony and child support for a very long time so don't expect diamonds and roses or even a night out on a date any time soon. And if he's one of those losers that will duck out of his child support payments so he can get you roses, why would you want to be with a jerk like that anyway?

I grew up in a family of strong women. One important lesson my mother taught us all is to be true to ourselves and never compromise our integrity for anyone. It surprises me that so many woman out there will choose to beat down another woman for some chucklehead that probably doesn't deserve either one of you in the first place.

Get some backbone. Hold on to your dignity. And, for heaven's sake, hold out for the good ones. Because you know what? They are out there, ladies. And when you find them they will treat you like a queen!

Happy Birthday Jan!

2011-10-11T21:18:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my father in law's 76th birthday. I wish we could be there celebrating with him. He's a bit what we call a "character" here in some of his mannerisms and ways of speaking. But, he is also very intelligent and keen on speaking to the standards of education and learning. He was, after all, a teacher at one time in his life.

The first time I ever met him I was afraid of what he was going to think of me. After all, there is an age difference between Alex and I that some people have a hard time understanding. Then there's the fact that I am an American! Haha, no one will ever admit that to my face but I feel that "silent knowing" feeling when I am there. You know, "oh, she's an American..." feeling. Swedes are very polite and would never make one feel uncomfortable but over the years I have heard bits and pieces of how we Americans are perceived in other countries. So, yes, there was that! I was nervous meeting Jan for the first time. It was completely uncalled for. He made me feel completely at home, welcomed and part of the family right away. Being that he is somewhat of a loner, meaning he prefers to not have a lot of people around at once, I knew our brief visit was taxing but he made me feel so good while I was there. He was so interested in talking to me, getting my point of view and, his favorite thing to do, getting my take on all things Swedish.

The next time we visited he had moved from his old home and into an apartment. We spent long evenings eating shrimp, drinking beer and talking well into the night. One other thing I found we had in common, we liked to watch some television. Though he would not admit it, he did like some reality television - mainly of the Swedish variety. We watched one that was as interesting as it was entertaining. A group of well known Swedish singers from different eras are brought together in one place. I think there might have been 7 of them. Each night, one of them is the host/star and the others all talk about how that person's music influenced them or good memories they had from listening to their songs. Then, one by one, they'd get up and sing one of the host's songs in their own style. It was all very entertaining though I had no idea who these people were or understood much of what they were saying. Jan filled me in on what I might be missing.

I speak very little Swedish though not for lack of trying to learn. I understand a little bit. It was pretty amazing though that while I was there the more I heard it the more I was picking up. I even dared to speak it once in a while if only to say "Tusen tack" or "Nej, tack!" which means "a thousand thanks" or "no, thanks". Jan got a kick out of hearing me try and would always make sure I got the right pronunciation. I liked sitting in the living room listening in while he and Alex talked and talked. I could only make out a few words here and there but I could tell from the tone that they deeply cared for what the other was thinking about and saying. I like watching Alex with his Dad, I know their road has sometimes been rocky but they have a great father/son relationship now.

Jan has a terrible time seeing. His eyesight has been gradually going and he is almost blind. I hope that when the time comes that he needs someone to take care of him we can do what we need to do and be there for him.

So, grattis Jan! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Happy Birthday Pappa! Wish we were there to celebrate. We'll see you as soon as we can.

With love and affection,
Mary

Annoyance...and a dream...

2011-10-10T11:22:00.000-07:00

I am slightly more than annoyed at work these days. There's not really one thing that does it. It's a culmination of things that build up over time and they grate on my nerves which eventually causes me to want to say "f... this" and get away. Last week was prime example. Just a lot of chuckleheads getting on my nerves. By Friday evening it was all I could do to get home, away from people, and hide.

It is not that I hate my job, because I don't. I like my job. The job stuff is a symptom of a greater problem. The problem being...I want to go away.

I am longing for a change. A change in scenery would be a good start. I keep watching those House Hunter International shows hoping to see one that takes place in Sweden. I want to move there so badly I can taste it. I can see myself living there. I can see myself learning to get out and about my new community and making new friends and spending time with my Swedish family. I can see Alex and I deciding what to do on a weekend and going into Stockholm to take in the sights, sounds and smells. God, I want it so bad.

Problem is, we just cannot afford it right now. Sweden is hugely expensive - so much more so than here - and, we know, we have it pretty good here right now. Still, I look at photos and videos of Sweden daily and deep inside wish there was some way we could go. I know we'll get there next year for a visit but I mean, go, really go! To live there, forever. That's my dream. I hope one day it can come true.

Blog ideas for women...really?

2011-10-06T09:40:00.000-07:00

So, I was googling some ideas for my blog and entered the search phrase "blog ideas for women" and this is what came up...

"ideas for decorating, fashion, entertaining, holidays, family, gift giving, shopping and more!"

Really? This is the first thing that pops up for that search phrase? I'm quite insulted! I mean there must be other women out there who think about more than decorating, fashion, entertaining, holidays, family, gift giving, shopping and more! More what? Why not just continue this with helpful hints on cleaning your oven or fabulous fun cookie recipes! Don't get me wrong, I love holidays and family and whatnot but, seriously, women DO have other things on their minds, you know!

Granted, as I searched further down the page, other topics came up but not before a plethora of mind boggling sexist topics that make it seem like women are still making pot roast while wearing high heels and a lovely strand of pearls. June Cleaver, I am not! And, the thing is, I'm not exactly Gloria Steinem either. I'm just a well rounded human being with deep interest in my community, my city, my state and my world that goes beyond how to create a festive holiday decor for the in-laws!

Conversely, when I searched "blog ideas for men" I got a list of how to's to pick up women and how to be a "manly man"! Seriously people, if that's the best you can do, keep your crazy lists to yourself. I'll think of my own topics from now on.

SHEESH!

Arnie and Belle...

2011-10-04T16:21:00.000-07:00

Belle is a gray beauty!

Arnie, my big boy!

Big round head!

Belle likes to be upside down!

October is National Adopt a Pet Month so I thought I would write more about my experience being an "adoptive" mother to Arnie and Belle. I know I've written about them before but they really are two unique and individual personalities. I thought this time I would compare some of their routine activities and show you just how different they are.

1. Sleeping - Now anyone who has a cat or has had a cat knows that they spend an enormous amount of time sleeping. They're really good at it! Arnie and Belle are no exceptions. I think Arnie has taken his sleeping to a professional level. They each have very distinct ways they like to sleep. Arnie, for example, tends to like "holing up" in covered spaces like the inside of the condo/tower thing we have or the inside of his little tent house. He curls up in there and I won't see him for hours. Belle, on the other hand, loves a box. Any box. She'll squish her way into a box and stay there snoring for a while. Yes, she snores and it's adorable. One then they do share in common is where they like to sleep during the winter months. That would be on top of my legs pinning me to the bed until I lose all circulation. More than once I've awaken startled from a dream that I am being held down in a pool of water by cement blocks only to find the cats are weighing me down in bed!

2. Eating - When Arnie and Belle first came home I was told a mixed diet of both wet and dry food was best so that's what they got. Arnie has been a-okay with that since Day 1. In fact, if he doesn't get his wet food by 5pm each day he makes a real pest of himself until someone gets it for him. At first, Belle loved it too. She would scarf down the wet food like there was no tomorrow. When she first came home she was super skinny and somewhat undernourished so I think she was making up for lost time. Now though, Belle doesn't really eat more than a bit or two of the wet food but, instead, chows on the dry. Sometimes she eat the dry food so fast she will immediately throw it up. I know...sorry...not a pretty visual image but oh well! One thing they do agree on is that there is almost nothing better in this world than Whiskas Temptations Cat Treats. I keep a bag of them in my desk drawer and if I even open it to get a pen they are here at my side waiting. They could probably live on those things if I let them!

3. Affection - Both Arnie and Belle crave affection but in this they are very different. Arnie is a very insistent cat when he wants to be held, which is very, very often. If I have my back to him he'll climb across the couch and over the back of my office chair and up and over my shoulder clinging onto my clothing in the hopes that I'll lean back and let him perch over my shoulder. if I do, he'll rub his big round head into my face and ears and nose and neck until I stop what I'm doing and pet his head. Oh yes, he has a big round head. Occasionally, I call him Charlie Brown because of it. Belle likes affection on her terms. When she wants attention she'll come bounding over in her stumbling way and BAM she's on you. She does this at night sometimes too. Nothing like having a 9 pounds dead weight with claws just PLOP on your chest in one leap from the floor to get your heart racing!

4, Curiosity - All cats have a natural curiosity but in this Arnie and Belle are very dissimilar. Alex called Arnie "Inspector b' Larnie" because no matter what we are doing - cooking dinner, taking a bath, putting on make up, putting together book shelves, typing a blog post - Arnie has to be there, sniffing around, making sure it's all up to par and then we can go on with our day. Belle will stand aside and watch and doesn't really get involved. Which is much appreciated when what we're doing involves doing something big like putting in the window air conditioners. Arnie is also unafraid of most household items where Belle is terrified of the vacuum cleaner. I mean TERRIFIED!! She screams and runs and if you've never heard a cat scream you haven't lived. It's blood curdling.

5. Playtime - Both cats love to play and, by far, their favorite plaything in this house is Alex. I often protest when, late at night, the three of them start a romping game of chasing each other into the kitchen and back again. Alex will take off with the cats chasing him and then he'll turn around and they'll run into the other room and hide around a corner or a chair until he comes running in and then they're all off running again. It's actually pretty funny and cute to see. We've purchased a thousand little cat mouse toys which are always a hit until Arnie hides them all over the house and we don't see them again for months. We've had other toys too. Toys that hang from door knobs or are attached to a stick. Those last for a while and are popular until Belle chews the mousy thing or the ball thing off the end and then all that's left is a stick or a thing on the door knob. The mousy thing or ball then get hidden with all the other mousy toys. I swear I have no idea where they go. One day, when we move our couch there will be a million mouse march going on under there, I'm sure.

The whole point of this post is to tell you about my cats and how much they have enriched our lives. When you have a pet, cat or dog, you finally understand what true, unconditional love means. There's always someone waiting at the door when you come home that's really happy to see you and they don't care what you look like, who you are, how much money you make or if you really screwed something up at work that day. They'll always listen and commiserate with you when you need a friendly ear. And they will always, ALWAYS, make you smile. So many dogs and cats are out there right now that need a home. Please consider adopting and, if possible, adopt an older animal. They have so much to give you and they're just waiting for you!

To breathe, per chance to sleep...

2011-10-03T10:31:00.000-07:00

My apologies to William Shakespeare for bastardizing his words for my blog title today but breathing is on my mind. As is sleeping.

I have seasonal allergies so in the Spring and Autumn my nose is either the flood gates of hell or the Garrison Dam. I am always somewhere between being able to breathe but constantly blowing my runny nose or being a mouth breather who can't sleep at night. I have the one nostril clear, the other stopped up syndrome all night long and nothing I take seems to work for very long. Right now, I have taken both a Benadryl and a Sudafed and my nose (and head) are still stuffed up! It feels like someone is sucking all of the oxygen out of the atmosphere and I'm not getting my fair share. Subsequently, I am tired. Dog tired! I opted to leave work early, taking four hours of paid vacation time, just so I could come home and try to get some rest!

When I'm not battling my nose and sinuses, I am rubbing my eyes which feel very much like two tiny porcupines have been placed into my eye sockets when I wasn't looking. They're itchy! I dream about taking them out and soaking them in something to get the itch to stop! They, like my sinuses, are in a constant battle between being dry as a bone or running uncontrollably which make it looks like I'm crying about something all the time.

I suppose I could go see an allergist but I know that this will last only until the weather gets cold and then it all rights itself again. Until spring. But even then, summer comes and its all okay again. I'm not one for taking a lot of medications anyway. I take the odd Ibuprofen when my gamey knee acts up, Tylenol if I get a fever (rarely) and, if I get a cold, I'll break out the Nyquil. Being a woman of a certain age, I do take daily vitamins with iron, Vitamin D (because I am D deficient) and one tablet of fish oil each day (good for the bones, joints and brains, doncha know!). The last prescription medication I took was a Flexeral when my back went out and I was having muscle spasms. That was a while ago now. So, basically I'm a healthy broad! So, I'll suffer the stuffy/runny nose and the itchy eyes and know it will go away eventually.

Right now though, I'm going to take a nap!

A crush...

2011-10-02T18:08:00.000-07:00

Did you ever have a crush on anyone? I mean one of those irrational if only he would realize he loved me too kind of crushes. I have to admit that I have had those in my life time. Of course, most of them were over some teen heart throb that I was enamored with at the time. Don't even get me started talking about the Bay City Rollers! Haha!

I also had an enormous crush on a kid in grade school. He was a quiet, broody type of kid with big brown eyes. He was kind of shy which just added to his 6th grade mystery! One day he came up to me on the play ground and asked me to meet him there after school so he could ask me something. OMG!! I was thrilled!!! I couldn't think for the rest of the day and when the time came to meet him I was there early! He came over to me and looked at me shyly which just made me sure he was mine, all mine!! Then he said, "Could you tell Liz that I kind of like her?" My heart dropped to my feet. Liz was my best friend. I told him I'd tell her and played it off like I was happy he liked her. Bullshit! I was devastated! My 6th grade heart was broken. That might have been the first time but certainly not the last.

I remember a sort of reverse crush that happened years later. I was on the Parish Council at a church I attended at the time. There was a new young priest there who was filling in because a permanent priest hadn't been assigned to our parish yet. A lot of people at the church thought this young priest was really something special. They talked about his charismatic personality and what a nice looking young man he was. Working with him on the council, I just thought he was a jerk. He appeared arrogant and full of himself and thought that just because he wore a collar he deserved some special modicum of respect without really earning it. I didn't like him at all. One evening, after the council meeting was just about finished, I asked him for some pamphlets I had been waiting for which needed to be distributed the following weekend. He said they were in the rectory. So he took off toward the rectory door with me following behind. I was thinking I'd get the pamphlets and go home. As we approached the door he stopped, turned and made a LOUD proclamation (so the other people standing nearby could hear) about how I was NOT to enter the rectory and how WRONG it was that I was following him (say what???) and how THIS SORT OF THING ALWAYS HAPPENS TO HIM, and how it will LOOK VERY BADLY IF HE WERE TO ALLOW ME IN THERE!! Now, here's the thing...I just wanted the pamphlets so I could get the heck home. I wasn't in the least interested in this putz and the idea that he even thought I was made me throw up a little in my mouth! Yish! What a jerk!! I walked away after I assured him that I was not in the least interested and he was mistaken about what I was doing there. I never did get the pamphlets either. There was no way I was going to ask him again. Now, years later, I was telling someone this story and they said, "Maybe he's the one who really had a crush on you!" I never thought of that. Maybe that was the case, I don't know.

Nah...he was just a jerk who was in love with himself! LOL

In praise of animals...

2011-10-01T20:24:00.000-07:00

Today, Alex and I did something we do once in a while...we visited a couple of local animal shelters. We both love animals and dream of the day when we can have a dog.

First we went to Kindred Kitties. Kindred Kitties is a store front place in down town Kenosha whose sole purpose is to rescue kitties and find them forever homes. We got three kitties from Kindred Kitties. Arnie was the first. They were showing him at Adoption Day out at Petco and I fell in love with him and brought him home. He's been my special guy ever since. We have a solid bond, Arnie and me, and I think even Alex knows that Arnie is really my first love! LOL

Next we brought home Brigitte. She was less than a year old when she came home and Arnie wasn't too sure about her at all. But, over time, and much hissing later, the two of them became best buddies. Brigitte took some time to warm up to her new human family but once she did she was a lover! Unfortunately, Brigitte became ill and started to have a series of strokes. Eventually she couldn't take it anymore and I had to make that horrible decision to have her put to sleep. I was there with her when it happened and it was one of the saddest days of my life.

Soon though, Alex and I knew it was time to get another kitty. We went to Kindred Kitties again. The best part about Kindred Kitties is that all the kitties run pretty much free throughout the two rooms of the store. You can pick them up and pet them and get a real feel for their personalities. Well, there was a skinny, scrawny, grey kitten with runny eyes and a cough that looked like she had seen the hard streets in her short life. I am immediately drawn to those cats who aren't as cute or cuddly as the rest. The cute ones get adopted easiest. The others tend to get overlooked. This kitty kept coming near to us, wanting some interaction, and then would go away. But if any other kitty came over, she would immediately come back and push her way near us again. We didn't take her right away. We left and went home and talked about it again and again. We went back to see her again and then went home again. Alex wasn't convinced she was the one. He was hoping for a cat that would warm up to him right away the way Arnie had done with me. Finally, we decided she needed a forever home and brought her home. Her name at the shelter was Zingers which is a stupid name. We called her Belle.

Belle quickly let Arnie know she was in charge. He's an easy going guy so he didn't really care about that. She was still sick when we got her but she soon got well and started to put on weight and thrive. And, much to his enjoyment, she completely fell in love with Alex and, to this day, she is his special girl.

The point of all of this is simply that we couldn't imagine our lives without these two furry, funny creatures. Yes, when we leave to go abroad we have the hassle of figuring out who will take care of them and then we talk about them everyday, hoping they're okay and aren't too upset with us. We worry if we think they're not feeling well or acting lethargic. I can't say they're like our children but they are a very special part of our lives.

Today as we played with the kitties at Kindred Kitties and saw the dogs at Safe Harbour Humane Society, we wished we had a bigger place to live. We would love to have a dog and a another kitty or two to share our days with. If you don't have a pet, get one. You cannot imagine how much they enhance your life. Adopt a stray. Avoid puppy mill dogs and go see the beautiful animals waiting for a loving family at your local shelter. Get them spayed or neutered. Then, sit back, relax and realized you are in for life time of unconditional love.

Living off the grid...

2011-09-30T23:22:00.000-07:00

My sister didn't have power in her house for a couple of hours today. That got me to thinking...how long could I live off the grid? I mean, we could all last a couple of hours for sure but what things could I do without in order to save energy. I'm talking all energy here not just electric. Hmm, let me see...

Well, first of all, I could take a cue from my dear husband and walk to work! I don't live that far away from my office. It's easily within walking distance and I could probably be there in 15 minutes or so. But the truth is, I'm so not into getting up, getting dressed and then walking to work. Alex does it all the time, rain or shine, even in winter. Maybe if I was in better shape I would do it. Maybe I need to get in better shape! Aw, there's no maybe about that part..I do...but I digress. Walking would save me many dollars in gas and be better for the environment. It would actually work to get me in shape too which might lead to me walking more places!

Another thing that has bothered me for awhile is bottled water. First, I like how our tap water tastes and prefer it but, second, all those plastic bottles take an enormous amount of energy to make and they last forever in landfills. To me that's a lose/lose situation. I'm not fanatical about it but I try really hard to not drink bottled water. I have a refillable water bottle at home and at work and I use them constantly.

I would have a very hard time living without any source of electricity. I love to write using my computer, I love to watch television and I love to read and I need lights to do that! Now, having said that, I know I could use library computers and not spend a dime on my own computer usage and I could read by daylight or use lanterns or something at night. I dunno...I think I would have a really, really hard time with that! So, in that respect, I would not be able to live off the grid for very long.

I think it some respects I am an "average" consumer of energy but in others, I might tip the scale and be an energy hog. Maybe in the coming year, I'll take some steps to reduce my carbon foot print and use less energy where I can. I do think it's important to think about this. We are the care takers of this planet and we all have some responsibility for it.

Clowns...ew!

2011-09-25T15:18:00.000-07:00

I love scary movies. Ever since I was a little kid and would beg to stay up late to watch Creature Features, I have been a fan of good horror movies. Or, for that matter, I am also a fan of bad horror movies. I mean, face it, there are only about 4 - 5 plots to any horror movie you can think of with only the slightest variations.

There's the "family moves into a new home and find their not alone" plot. This, of course, covers everything from The Amityville Horror, Poltergeist, Ghosts, 13 Ghosts, The Grudge and even the classic, The Shining (interchange the hotel for the house and you got it! There's also the "group of friends gets together at some remote site". Of course, they all (or most) end up dead by either a local crazed killer or killers or one of them goes over the edge/gets possessed/was already crazy and kills them all. This is only slightly different from the "group of students are enlisted by a professor of the occult to spend the weekend in a mystery house/mansion/hotel". That last plot tries to lump the best of the previous two together but rarely hits the mark. Unless you are the great film from the '60s (I think) called "The Haunting of Hill House" (sometimes also called "The Haunting"). Shot in black and white, special effects are limited to only sound and one breathing door and it's one movie that to this day I will NOT pass up. Another usual plot is anything that has demon possession in it, either to an adult or child. Demon possessed children are much scarier. Think of Linda Blair and you get my drift. Another type of demon possessed movie worth note is The Ring and Insidious. I count Paranormal Activity 1 and 2 in this bunch too. Both movies scare me senseless and I love it.

There is, however, one thing in life and in the movies that scares me more than any of the stuff I've seen in the horror movies I so dearly love. That would be clowns. I see no reason for clowns to exist. They are not funny, or heart warming, or precious. They are creepy old men in frightening make up acting like their children in big shoes and rubber noses. I hate them. I even count the two most beloved clowns among them - Bozo and Ronald McDonald. Even when I was a kid and watched the Bozo Show, and don't get me wrong, I liked the Bozo Show in spite of the clowns, I couldn't help thinking that those guys were all a bunch of soused idiots that probably smelled bad in real life. I knew kids who's parents got the tickets to the Bozo Show and I was forever grateful my own parents never did. What a frightening way to spend a day! As a grew older and really saw Bozo and his friends I could see the weird make up running into his hair line and the red rim around his eyes. SCARY!!! Ronald McDonald is not much better. Freaky red haired weirdo that scares the snot out of me when I see him.

So give me your demons, ghosts and things that go bump in the night and I'll take them on and love 'em! Throw a clown into the mix and you're on your own! I wonder if I started a petition to ban clowns worldwide if anyone would take me up on it!?

One weird thing...

2011-09-24T12:24:00.001-07:00

I have this weird habit that people have noticed at work. I am an incessant doodler. Whenever I am in a meeting or a training session, which is a lot of time, I have to have a note book with me and, at least, two good pens. I start out taking notes as does everyone else. But then, I start doodling. My doodles aren't just stick people or funny animal drawings either. They become these elaborate designs that cover the page, one swirling into the next, until the entire page is covered and there are no more notes.

Now, most people, at first, take my doodling as a sign that I'm bored or not listening to what's going on. That's their mistake. Actually, my doodling is somehow directly connected to how intensely I am listening. I get everything their saying and retain the info better than if I was forced to put the pen down. This is somehow connected to how I remember things too. For example, as some of you know, I have done some acting in my life and with that comes the fact that actors have to memorize lines. Sometimes many, many lines. I discovered very early on that I could memorize my lines easily if I wrote them down. So, I would first sit down with a script and manually write out my lines in a notebook. Next, I would go through the script and read my cue lines and then write my response lines in a notebook. By the time I did both those things, I had a "visual" in my head of the words I was going to speak in the play in my own handwriting in my brain. I then knew my lines. Forever! I don't know why this works for me or when I realized it did but it does...even now.

I've always been a visual learner. If you simply tell me something, don' t expect that I will remember it or learn it. Show me, and I can usually get it. If you give me directions, better write them down or I can't follow them. Write them down and include landmarks I can look for? Even better! Perhaps this is why I have always loved visual art so much.

So there you have it - one weird thing about me. I'm sure there are many other weird things about me but that's fodder for another installment of One Little Polish Girl.

One Last Thing...

2011-09-22T17:34:00.000-07:00

(I'm taking a cue from the latest PEOPLE magazine. On the last page, they have a feature called CHATTER and there is a bit on a celebrity where they ask her questions about the "last" thing. Since I finished the 30 Letters thing I thought I'd give this a try!)

LAST MEAL I PREPARED:
Easy peasy! I cook dinner almost every night. Tonight I made a stuffed pork roast with new fingerling potatoes in a mushroom cream sauce. And, yes, it was as good as it sounds. My siblings don't think I know how to cook. My husband begs to differ!

LAST DATE NIGHT I HAD:
A couple of nights ago, Alex and I went out for some coffee after dinner. We went to McDonald's, the drive through. But then we drove to Harbor Park and sat talking by the harbor while the lights from the docks and the moon shimmered on the water. It was quite beautiful and nice to get away for a bit. Last week, we went to a movie. We get out two or three nights per week - even if it's just for coffee and talking.

LAST BIG TRIP I TOOK:
We spent a few days in Chicago a couple of weeks ago but the last big trip was last October when we travelled abroad. I love traveling! I want to do more of it!

LAST ITEM I BOUGHT:
I just ordered a new duvet cover and pillow cases from Amazon. I would have gotten it at IKEA but they don't sell them on line! Now that's just wrong! Of course, a trip to IKEA sounds good to me. Since it's pretty far away I'll have to plan ahead but I can get all sorts of Swedish goodies there. Hmm, must make note of this...

LAST DESSERT I ATE:
I had an Edy's Tangerine Fruit Bar for dessert tonight but that doesn't really count. The last really great dessert I had was the Irish Chocolate Pudding at Ashling on the Lough here in Kenosha. OMG! This is not Bill Cosby Jello Pudding I'm talking here! This is a deep, creamy, dense, chocolaty pot of rich heavenly goodness topped with real whipped cream. GO! GO NOW! You must try this stuff!

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 30. your reflection in the mirror

2011-09-20T07:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Mary,

You know what? You're really okay! I know there were times in your life you didn't really believe that. There were times that felt chaotic and out of control and times when it felt like there was nothing you could do that would ever be right. The teen years were particularly dark and you felt very awkward and very alone. But, no matter what damage you tried to do, you got through it!

Look at yourself now. Sure, there are some things you still don't like and can't admit to yourself but those things are changeable and you can make that change for the better. Look at where you are in life. You have a good job working with good people - people who appreciate you and look to you for answers.

You get hard on yourself, ya know? You have days when you are you're own worst enemy. I guess that's natural but take it easy on yourself. You do okay. So lighten up once in a while.

And, once and for all, admit it. You like yourself. So there!

With a big me-hug,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 29. the person you want to tell everything to, but are too afraid

2011-09-19T11:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom,

There's so much I want to tell you but I know there is so much that you would either not understand or you would disapprove. So I never told you.

I want to tell you, first, that I know you always wanted the best for me and wanted me to be happy. I can honestly say, Mom, that I am happy. I want you to know that.

I want to tell you some of the crazy things I did while I was growing up and why I did them. Like, those times when I was experimenting with reacreational drugs. I know you'd be upset with me. I did it to fit in. I did it for fun. I thought I had to. And, you know what? I didn't really like it and that's why I stopped. I never did it to excess but I know, for you, even trying it once is excessive. I'm sorry, Mom, because I know you'd be disappointed in me. I never wanted to disappoint you. But I also want you to understand that what I went through then has made me who I am today. I know what to stay away from, to avoid and to run from because of some of the things I did back then. I hope you can understand how even the bad choices we make mold us into who we are.

I want to tell you about my job. I get pretty frustrated sometimes. The thing is, I love my job. I love that I work for a not-for-profit agency that really cares about people. I love working with people with mental illnesses. But I also feel trapped sometimes because I completely neglect my creative side most of the time. It starts to stifle me. I want to let you know that you were primarily responsible for me getting into this line of work. You taught me to care. And, you're also responsible for my creative side. You nurtured it and allowed me to express myself throughout my life. Thank you for that!

I want to tell you about my life...where I'm at right now. I want you to know that I deeply love Alex and know that he deeply loves me. I know you were worried about that because of our age difference but you can relax, Mom. It's the real deal!

And one last thing, I want to tell you that it's okay to go. I know you're suffering and struggling and, for some reason, hanging on when you know what awaits you is so much better. I'm okay, Mom. We all are. And it's okay for you to go if you want to. You raised me, and all of us, very well. We're going to be just fine.

Love you forever,
Moochie

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 28. someone that changed your life

2011-09-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Lee,
You were the best teacher I ever had. You instilled in me a love of the theatre and the knowledge that I had certain skills, acting skills, that were actually good! You gave me confidence and understanding. You were tough on me when you needed to be and soft when I needed you to be.

Your enthusiasm for acting and the theatre was contagious and I was like a sponge...so eager to learn. I know that you gave me chances I wouldn't have gotten at other schools or with other professors. And, above all, you were a friend.

I don't act that much anymore. Not at all for the last few years, but, I use the techniques you taught me every single day in so many ways. Because what you taught me was an effective way to communicate with as many different and varied people as possible. Priceless lesson that! One that changed my life, gave me confidence and wings.

I will always be grateful to you for that!

With love,
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 27. the friendliest person you knew for only one day

2011-09-16T09:50:00.000-07:00

Whew...this one is hard!! Okay...here goes...

Dear Lady in the Brown Sweater at Jury Duty,

I can remember heading into the court house for jury duty and thinking, "What the heck am I doing here?" I was scared half to death because I had no idea what to expect. I got in the court room and sat near the back as the room started filling with other people who'd been called. We all sat, quietly, as the Court Commissioner explained our duties and how we would know if we were going to be called in. Then, he listened patiently to those who were desperately trying to get out of it. Then, we all got numbers. I thought that was it but no. My number, along with a bunch of others, was called and told to go into the other court room and wait. Apparently, we were starting immediately!

The antechamber of the court room was full of anxious people - me, being one of them. I sat on a ledge, as there were not enough chairs, and you sat next to me. You brought a book with you which I thought was a genius move because this looked like it was going to take a long time. You smiled and said you were nervous. That's the ice breaker and that's all it took. We stuck together all morning waiting, answering questions, more waiting. Then they let half of us go home, but not our half. We were ushered into a court room and into the jury box. We were going to go through viore dire. I'm sure I've spelled that wrong. Attorneys asked us questions over and over again to determined if we would be a good juror for an upcoming case. Then, just as suddenly, we were sent out for an hour to lunch.

As I was walking toward the exit I heard you say, "I'm going to run out and get a sandwich, you wanna go?" Why not! So we were off to Marina Gardens. Your name was Jane, you told me. I'm Mary Beth. Neither of us had been on a jury before. This was all new and strange and a little bit fun. Before we knew it lunch was over and it was back to the court room. More questions, more answers. More people dismissed.

At the end of the day, you were dismissed and I was chosen. You smiled and said, "Thanks for being my buddy today!" I joked and said, "It wouldn't have been the same without you!" And that was that.

Two people, tossed together in a call of duty, scared and nervous, making friends for one day. Thank you for that, wherever you are!

Judiciously yours,
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 26 - The last person you made a pinky promise to

2011-09-15T10:59:00.000-07:00

Dear A,

I don't know if this qualifies as a "pinky promise" but it is the last promise I made to anyone and one I intend to keep no matter what. When you made the enormous decision to move here to marry me, I knew whole heartedly that you loved me unconditionally and forever. That decision could not have been an easy one. Moving to a completely different country, into a part of the world you had little experience in, and far away from your family and all that was familiar was a huge sacrifice to make...for us.

When we took our vows I promised to love and honor you for the rest of my life. And I intend to do that. Everyday you show me that this is promise that will be easy to keep because everyday you show me more and more how much you love me.

I promise to always be there for you. I promise to always stand by you. I promise to live with you, laugh with you, cry with you, stand in awe with you, and sometimes just be present when no words are adequate and nothing needs to be said.

Forever. That is my pinky promise to you.
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 25. a person you know who is going through the worst of times

2011-09-14T12:01:00.000-07:00

Dear K,
I haven't known you very long but in the short time we've known each other you've shared some personal information that I know is difficult. You've been struggling through the days and, sometimes, I see tears and know how hard it is for you.

Divorce is never easy. I know yours has been particularly hard on you what with now having to figure out your financial situation and how to live as a newly single mom. I just want you to know that those decisions that are made at those difficult times are never easy, always hurt and sometimes you hurt people you never thought you'd ever hurt. But it does get better.

You have to trust that. It gets better. Time heals the wounds and you find you have a strength inside that you never knew you had.

And if you ever need an ear or a shoulder...I'm here.

With care,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day 24. the person who gave you your favourite memory

2011-09-13T05:48:00.000-07:00

Dear Dad,

You and Mom gave me so many good memories but one of my favorites came only from you. I was at Parkside and starring as Dolly Levi in The Matchmaker. It was a big role and I was nervous about carrying the lead for the first time. I worked my tail off at rehearsals and felt pretty good about my performance. I felt ready for opening night. And, man oh man, was I nervous.

I don't remember anything about that first opening night performance. It's like that sometimes with acting. You get into a role and become that character and you really zone out the rest of the world. What I do remember is that the audience loved it...and me...and there was an enormous wave of applause at my curtain call. I was completely blown over! But, the best memory part came a little while later when I walked out of the dressing room and you were standing there Dad. You grabbed me in a bear hug and said, "I'm so proud of you!" That was the first time you actually told me that out loud even though I knew that you were always proud of me. I loved that moment and think of it often.

Later, another treasured memory also involves you. I was performing in a series of summer shows at Parkside when you passed away between show weekends. I missed the pick up rehearsal because of your death. I just couldn't rehearse. And I wasn't sure I was going to be able to perform that following weekend either. My director, Lee Van Dyke, a wonderful man to whom I owe a lot, called me and let me know that the decision was purely mine and he would back me either way. I decided to perform. The show must go on.

I tell ya, Dad, I was numb that first night. I vaguely remember being there but what I do remember is giving myself over completely to my performance. It was like surrendering my grief to my art and it was something I'd never felt before or since. When I walked out to take my bow at the end the audience ERUPTED in a standing ovation and applauded for the longest time. I looked to my left and right and my co-stars were all standing there applauding too. I walked off stage with tears streaming down my face and Lee said, "You're Dad would be proud of you." And he was right. I know you would have wanted me to do just as I had done. To soldier on, moving forward and getting on with life even though I was hurting so badly inside.

Oh, there are so many other great memories, Dad. I treasure all of them. I love you...always have, always will.

Your scoochbug,
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 23. the last person you kissed

2011-09-12T13:19:00.000-07:00

Dear Alex,

Well, you know.

Jag alskar dig!

Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 22. someone who deserves a second chance

2011-09-11T20:52:00.000-07:00

Dear S,

A while back you came to me for a job interview. You did a great interview, I have to tell ya! I liked you instantly and wanted to hire you. So I did.

Later, after working for me for a month or so, you came to me, very upset, because something that happened on your previous job was now coming to a head and it was important that you told me. It was something that could have killed your chances of ever working again. Something you did, breaking the law, and now were having to pay the consequences. You never told me this at the time you applied for the job I had open. Now, after hiring you, I saw that you were actually a good employee and trying really hard to keep it all together.

That day you cried in my office, begging me not to fire you. I had to go to HR with what you told me and ultimately the decision would be theirs. But...

I also thought you deserved a second chance. You admitted, albeit later than you should have, that you were going through something awful when your actions took that turn for the worse. In the time you worked for me, I only saw a good employee, a team player, someone intent on doing the right thing and working your hardest. I also took that to HR. So when the question came, "do you think we should let her go?" My answer was "No!" Second chances don't come around very often. You just don't get them when you need them and you don't often get the chance to be the person doling one out.

But that day, I did. And you got your chance. And you didn't let me down!

Later, when our agency moved onto another program and you were faced with finding work again. I was more than happy to give you a glowing recommendation. I was honest with those who called and they told me that you had already been upfront with them about the other trouble you had dealt with. I was happy to hear that you learned from our experience together.

I don't know where you're working now but I hope your life is in order and you are in a good place. And I hope someday you get the chance to pass along a second chance to someone else. It really is worth it!

With good thoughts,
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 21. someone you judged on a first impression

2011-09-10T17:54:00.000-07:00

Dear C,

When I first met you I saw your longish shaggy unkempt hair and your tendency to go whichever way the crowd went and I didn't give you too much attention because I thought you were just one of those people who came in, stayed a while, and faded away without having anything to contribute. Then, I spent that one hysterical night with you where we ended up at some gold lame piano bar with a guy named Turk who kept buying us drink after drink. I remember being in the ladies room with you, both of us knowing that we'd feel a whole lot better if we could just get rid of some of the alcohol that was now inside us, but neither of us having the guts to make ourselves throw up. We laughed ourselves silly. My last sight of you, as I exited the very ornate middle Eastern cab, was of you waving through the back window, a huge grin on your face, your braces shining in the street lights.

I have to admit. That one experience with you changed my impression of you forever. You were no longer expendable. You were a real live person and one that could kick some serious ass.

I've seen you since then, working with your puppets, your hair now short and tidy and you have grown into an amazingly beautiful artistic woman.

So, what have I learned? Probably not much. I think I still make rash decisions about people's character sometimes bases on my first impressions. But maybe I'm not quite so quick to judge...maybe I will find the butterfly in that cocoon.

Now, don't get me started about that Turk guy! LOL

In friendship,
Mare

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 20: the one who broke my heart...

2011-09-09T11:14:00.000-07:00

Dear R,
A long time ago, in another lifetime, I was head over heels, act like a fool, in love with you. Everyone we worked with thought we would be perfect together and I feel right into that trap and started thinking that too.

Oh, it started out all nice. You showed some interest. Even took me to dinner and a movie a couple of times which led me to believe that you liked me too. But, you didn't really.

So, while my heart was getting caught up in "does he like me" and "I love him", yours was showing indifference. I let myself get caught up in the drama of wanting a relationship so badly that I wasn't even seeing the signs clearly.

So, I can't blame you that my heart was broken. That is fully on me. I've learned since then to be more aware of what the reality is and not get caught up in the fantasy.

Sincerely and now fully healed,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...OOPS!

2011-09-08T19:36:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I missed hitting the 30 Letters in 30 Days...but wait! I had a good reason! I was in Chicago with only my iPad at a hotel that didn't have wifi! While I could access the internet via my phone that wasn't exactly the best way to write a blog post. So, I had to take a break.

I will get back to it. I plan to finish all 30 letters though clearly not in the 30 days. It's been interesting to see what I come up with each time. So, for now...enjoy these great photos from Chicago. If you've never been there, go. Spend a few days, indulge yourself and enjoy. It really is a great city.

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 19: someone I can't get out of my head...

2011-09-04T12:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. Bingham,
A day or so ago I listened to the voice messages that were released of your mom and those who loved you trying to reach you on September 11, 2001. You mom was calling and telling you what little detail she knew about what was going on that morning. You were on Flight 93. The last message she left told you that these were terrorists on your plane, and they meant to crash the plane into some building as the others had, and then, in a show of bravery she told you to get with the other passengers and take over the plane if you could. And that's just what you all tried to do...

I've been thinking about you and the others since hearing her voice. I've also been thinking of the incredible strength of that woman who, knowing this was not going to end well, encouraged you to try...to do...in a calm voice, matter of factly, in a situation where others would probably be overrun with emotion. Her words, and your actions, saved lives that day even though yours was lost.

Sept 11 impacted us all in ways that we may never really be able to explain. I have memories of that day and the following nights and months where there was an overall numbness in everyone you'd meet. I still have trouble explaining the feelings I had at that time to anyone who didn't experience it as an American.

I'm proud of you, Mr. Bingham. And proud of the others who stood up in their last moments to try to stop terrorism. That's why I keep thinking about the extraordinary measures you took, the strength of a mother telling her only son to fight them, and I wonder...would I have been that strong, that brave?

With respect,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Eighteen: the person I want to be...

2011-09-02T05:38:00.001-07:00

Dear Me,
Okay, listen up. While I think you've been doing pretty good for the most part there are some areas of you that need a little work. Yes, yes...you've gone quite far as you are but, honestly, there is room for improvement!

1. Lose weight already! Life long struggle aside...you know there is more you can do to make this happen. So do it!

2. Stop pushing away your creative side. You love to draw, sing, paint, act...so...go and do it! What the hell are you waiting for! You're much happier when you're doing that stuff so why aren't you doing it? You know how many people wish they could do those things? Yes, you do. Yet you just do it.

3. You always say you want to travel. So travel already! There are places right here in the US you haven't seen so what's stopping you. Yosemite? Grand Canyon? Rocky Mountains? Alaska? All places you want to see in your lifetime and yet you haven't seen any of them! Get to it!

Okay, there are some things you're pretty good about too. You're kind. That's a very positive thing. You're a good listener without being overly sympathetic. That's also a good thing. You have a good sense of humor too. Always a plus. But, c'mon, get working on the rest of you!

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Seventeen: someone from my childhood...

2011-09-01T12:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr. Freeman, When I was a very little girl, my mom would often send me outside to play just to get me out of her hair. I would wander down the street, past the back door of my Dad's restaurant, past the rickety fence, and past your shop where you would be working all alone on a car or two. If I timed it right I would get past your shop just about the time you would be opening up the brown bag that held your lunch. I think Mrs. Freeman made your lunch each day. At least I like to think she did. If it was lunch time I would wander in the big open garage doors and say hello. You'd always smile and pick me up to sit on one of those big metal oil drums and then you'd open the brown bag and we'd share your sandwich or cookies or fried chicken and I'd ask you a million and a half questions and you'd answer them as best you could. You were one of the kindest people I'd ever met and I was absolutely fascinated with your dark brown skin and white, white teeth. You see, back then, I didn't see too many African American people. In fact, until I met you, I didn't even know there were African American people. I know that sounds insane but that was a different time and place. Not one for the better either because I have to believe that we have taken some steps to live as equal partners in this world. But then, you were it for me! I vaguely recall how volatile that time was. I remember seeing race riots on the TV news that my Dad watched. I was too young to understand what was going on but the sight of the police pushing angry mobs back or using fire hoses scared me! I didn't know why they would do that because my Mom always told me that the police were my friend but those police officers on the news did NOT look very friendly. They looked mean and that scared me! I remember meeting your son once. He was a teen ager or older back then. I was about 4 years old I think and at your shop sharing a root beer. He came in and was very upset that I was there. I don't remember everything he said but I do remember him calling me a "stupid little white girl" and I remember you became upset too. I think he called you some names and said some more stuff about white people and then he left in a hurry in the car you fixed up for him. I remember that so clearly. When I told my Mom about sharing your lunch once in a while she told me that you were a very nice man and that I shouldn't bother you when you were working. But later that day she sent me over with a brown bag of my own - this time filled with sandwiches and cupcakes for both of us. It was her way of saying thank you for being so tolerant of a mooching little kid like me. My Dad liked you too. I remember you came to the bar once in a while and my Dad would like talking to you for a long time. I would sit at the end of the bar and listen. My Dad was a talker, for sure, but you also seemed to enjoy those conversations. When I went to kindergarten I met my teacher, the second African American person I can remember, or at least the second to impact my life. Her name was Mrs. Listenbee. She was the smartest, most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I remember asking her if she knew you. My kindergartener mind thought all people with brown skin must know each other. I know now that's crazy but at that age I didn't know any better. She smiled at my question and said that she didn't know you but then asked me about you and listened intently when I told her that you were one of my best friends. The old bar and restaurant are long gone and so is your shop. I still wonder what ever happened to you and if you ever remember me. I also wonder if your son still feels so much hatred for "stupid little white girls". I hope not. I hope he has met some white people who have been decent and kind and not prejudiced. Thanks for the sandwiches, Mr. Freeman! And thanks for the life lessons too! Your friend, Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Sixteen: someone not in my state or country...

2011-08-31T21:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Jan,I want to be able to tell you that I love you as my father-in-law. I can see that you are very important to Alex and how you have influenced him in many ways. Ways he may not even realize. When we come to Sweden, I enjoy spending time with you so much. I love how openly frank you are in conversation! Sometimes, I have to admit, some of the things you say take me by surprise but they are always interesting. I like how you try to engage me in debate about how things are in the US compared to Sweden. Or how "these days" things are so much different or worse or better than "those days". I know it's hard for you. I think you are, by nature, a loner. I don't know if your other children understand that about you or, if they do, understand why you would be that way. Yet, when I have been with you I get the sense that deep down you do enjoy the company of others, just a level you can tolerate. I find you pleasant to be around and interesting to talk to and I always get the feeling that you feel the same way about me. I thank you for accepting me in your life. I know the age difference between Alex and me is something not everyone understands. But you have embraced me as your family and I love you for that. I worry about you. As you age and as your eyesight gets worse I know that you will want to stay in your apartment and be as independent as possible and that might not be possible. I often talk about moving there to care for you in your golden years or talking you into moving here to be with us. I know we'll have many more opportunities to talk, to laugh and to get to know each other even better. I look forward to it! I feel that Sweden is in my future. Living there is my dream. And to be near family would be wonderful. Please take care of yourself and know that you have a friend in me!With love, Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Fifteen: someone I miss the most...

2011-08-30T11:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom,
I miss you. Seems silly to say that since you're still with us but I miss the you you always were. I know hard these last couple of years have been on you. I know how difficult it was to have to move out of your home when, I know, that was the place you had hoped to be at the end of your life. Then, who could have imagined that you would have the stroke and now would be trapped in a body that does not work and does not let you say what's on your mind. I feel your frustration.

I miss your laughter. There hasn't been much of it lately. You always had a mischievous sense of humor, often making jokes at our expense, and then giggling at your own jokes. I miss how you would ask me if I wanted something to drink and that almost always meant you wanted me to make you a good martini. I miss those times when we were the only ones at home together, after Dad passed, and how we would talk about anything and everything. I just miss you, Mom.

I intend to spend as much time as possible now with you because I know these moments are passing quickly and you will soon be gone. I will miss you forever when that happens. I hope you know that it's because of you that I am the woman I am today. You taught me well and made me think and challenged me to be the best, most decent human being I can be.

I love you. Always.
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Fourteen: someone I drifted away from...

2011-08-29T11:12:00.000-07:00

Dear P,
I'm going to start out by saying, I love you and always will. You're my sister, after all, and nothing can ever really get in the way of that. We used to be so close though we didn't start out that way. I know that when we were kids I was more of a pain in your butt than I will ever admit out loud! LOL But over time, we got closer and used to confide in each other all the time. We were especially close in those days right after your divorce. You would always tell me what was on your mind and I'd try as best I could to support you through the rough time.

Oh, we still see each other every week but there have been some noticeable changes in our relationship. Our views on life in general have changed drastically. I no longer believe in god and you are a devout Catholic in the way our mother has always been and with that change you tend to try to "guilt" me into believing. I have my reasons but know that you won't hear them. You have also become, for reasons unknown to me, a staunch Conservative in your political views. I find I cannot even discuss anything remotely political with you because you only see things in the broadest terms and refuse to see the grey areas in life. A lot of good, hard working people fall into the cracks of those gray areas and it scares me a bit that you think they are there because they haven't worked hard enough or wanted to succeed strong enough. So, we do not speak to each other as much as we used to and I have to say that makes me a bit sad.

But know this, I will defend your right to believe what you will and defend you against anyone who makes personal attacks on you because of your beliefs. I love you as a sister and that is stronger than politics, religion or whatever. Maybe one day we'll find some middle ground where we can actually discuss what's happening around us without falling into heated battle. Maybe...we'll see! :)

I love you, P!
Moochie

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Thirteen: Someone I wish I could forgive...

2011-08-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

Dear Me,
You spent a lot of time hurting yourself. Too much time. And you've come a long, long way. But there are things in your past that, when brought up or thought of, make you instantly feel that guilt all over again.

Take your first marriage, for instance. You said "for better or worse" and when it got worse, you got out. Part of you will always feel that you failed. It's okay to forgive yourself for that but you probably never will. Hearts were broken, people got hurt and that was because of your decision to act on your own behalf. Does that make you selfish? Sometimes it feels that way. That's why you can't forgive yourself.

Take growing up, for instance. Some of what happened should never have happened. Certainly, you did nothing to make it happen but you still feel guilty and wrong. Probably always will. You've gone a long way to get over that crap but there is still that seed of guilt that pops up once in a while. It's what makes you feel responsible for the world, taking on other people's problems and trying to counsel everyone but yourself. Let it go already, girl. Just let it go!

Some things have changed for the better though. You're starting to see yourself through the eyes of someone who loves you very much and that has made a huge difference. You still haven't totally forgiven yourself but you are beginning to see that it's possible.

Hang in there, girl. You're getting better. It all takes time. Just breathe...and remember, you can forgive yourself. Whenever you're ready.

Love,
Me

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Twelve: a person who has caused me pain...

2011-08-27T22:57:00.000-07:00

Dear N,
Years ago you did something that altered me for the rest of my life and I have hated you for it ever since. Over time, I've learned to let go of that hatred and think of you only when absolutely necessary which, thankfully, is almost never. Your actions, perpetrated on me when I was so vulnerable, made me hurt myself for years. I kept my feelings inside for so long that I could almost imagine that you did nothing at all. But that, you sorry bastard, is a lie and a couple of years ago I let that inner child have her voice for the first time and I will never again pretend that everything was okay.

I've seen you lately. Old and ruddy, limping and bloated and I have to think that karma is a beautiful bitch. I always notice how you can barely bring yourself to say hello on those occasions when we're forced to be in close proximity. It's just as well. The thought of making small talk with you turns my stomach.

I want you to know that what you did was sick. Just plain sick. The after effects that I had took me years to get over. I blamed myself for a long time. I know that was wrong. I didn't deserve your sickness and I sure as hell won't hold onto it any longer. I am strong now. I have cleansed myself and forgiven me for a time when I thought I should have known better or done better. I almost forgive you...almost. I don't hurt myself anymore. I know better now. I'm not the one who should have been hurting.

One day you will pass and I will think of you then. But I will not weep. My tears will be saved for someone who deserves them. Our paths may cross again, I know. If they do, I will say hello and move away to keep my inner child safe and away from your dark aura.

Have a good life...if you can,
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Eleven: a deceased person...

2011-08-26T08:45:00.001-07:00

Dear Grandparents,
You don't know me but I'm your grand daughter. I was born long after you had passed. I've seen your photos. I have them hanging in my apartment actually. And I've heard your stories. That's what has always made me a bit sad that I never knew you.

I loved hearing about how you all came here from somewhere far away and how you had to struggle to set down roots. And I loved hearing about how you all flourished.

Grandma Kelleher - I love that, at the age of 16, you road one of the last existing legs of the Pony Express. That was just before the railroad came to the Dakotas and took that away forever. I have visions of this beautiful girl, long hair streaming behind her in the wind, riding her horse as hard as she can to get the mail to the hand off on time. I'm sure I have romanticized this somewhat but that's how I choose to think you were back then.

Grandpa Kelleher - The picture I have of you on my wall is one where you're standing there, casually leaning against a chair, wearing a vest, holding a watch that's connected to you by a watch fob. You look like you just stepped out of a movie. I know that was taken at the time you were the Sheriff in Park River, ND. I love that. Because even if I didn't know that I would guess, from the picture, that you were the Sheriff of some small western town.

Dad spoke fondly of you...and often. His stories were how I know you. I'm glad he shared them with me.

Grandma Reszke - I've seen pictures of you looking weather worn and hard at work on the farm. There is always great joy in your eyes. I've also seen pictures of you laughing out loud. Many pictures of that, in fact. That tells me, and my mom agrees, that you had a wonderful sense of life and humor. I wish I could have see those joyful eyes in person.

Grandpa Reszke - For you, I feel especially slighted for never knowing you because you actually lived with our family until your death which was right before I was born. My siblings have memories of you in your later years...some good, some not so good as your last days were particularly hard and gruesome. But in photos I see your pride. The photos with your "girls" - Grandma and your 4 beautiful daughters - show a light in your face and smile that tells the world you know how blessed you were. I know how hard you worked on that little farm in Minto to provide for those girls and make sure they had everything they needed to become the strong, beautiful women they are. And I know how you grieved when one of them passed on before you. No father should bury a child. I wish I had known you.

Grandparents, I hope that when you look down from wherever it is you are, you see me as someone to be proud of. I hope that my life is a testament to your collective strength and ability to survive. I love you all, even though I never met you.

Love,
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Ten: Someone I don't talk to as much as I would like...

2011-08-25T19:57:00.000-07:00

Dear Scott,

I remember meeting you for the first time back at good ol' UW-Parkside. You had already been there for half a semester and I was fresh out of high school and full of acting dreams. I liked you instantly and you and I became the very best of friends. We saw each other through a lot of college freshman angst and beyond. I don't know that I could have made it through those years quite as well without you.

You were there when my Dad passed away and stood by me in my grief, silently supporting me and keeping others at bay, because you knew me well enough to know that at times such as that I needed to be alone. I'll never forget that, Scott.

Remember the silly summer jobs we had? Directing the local traveling children's theatre. What a hoot that was! And all those Friday nights tearing up the dance floor at the local gay disco. We were so full of ourselves then! The Za-Za Girls strike again.

When it was time for us to grow up and move out, we clung together and faced the wild streets of Chicago. We were so naive but eager to be part of it all. Our apartment there was the bomb! Remember how we almost didn't even go see it because the rent was so low we were sure it was going to be a dump? Who knew that for under $500 a month we'd get two bedrooms, two baths, built in cabinets, exposed brick walls, hard wood floors AND a fireplace. And it would be right down the block from Wrigley Field! And we would have the crazy naked lady for a neighbor! Haha!

I'm excited that we're getting together this Sunday. I can't wait to see you. I love how we now live in two different cities, almost never actually speak to each other except for a text or a status update on Facebook but when we see each other it's like we were just together yesterday. That is the mark of a true friendship.

I love you, Z also known as Scott also known as Chris, and I always will. You are one of those people who've made an indelible mark in my heart and that special place will always be yours. If you ever need anything, you know I'll be there. No matter what it is, I'm there. Always.

With deep love and constant friendship,
Me

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day 9: someone I wish I could meet....

2011-08-24T07:15:00.000-07:00

Dear Gunilla,
I know that, technically, I have met you but, in your condition, I'm sure you don't remember me or even know why you met me in the first place. I wish that I could have met you when you were younger and had your full mind and body. I wish for this because you are the mother of the man I love and I've always wished I would have a mother-in-law to talk to, confide in, and care about.

I feel that I do know you in some ways. Ironically, I knew of your valuable work in the field of pedagogy long before I ever dreamt of even knowing your son! I became familiar with your books when I was studying early childhood education so imagine my surprise that first time Alex told me who you were! I still have your book on my shelf...next to the one you signed long ago for Alex. I've heard such great stories from Jan, a man who clearly sees you as the love of his life, about how you were when you were younger and I can hear in his voice and see in his eyes how much he still loves you though you cannot reciprocate. I know that there are stirrings of discontent within your family about past circumstances but I also know the power of true love and how sometimes choices are made in it's name that don't always make others happy. I know you're son loves you very much and that means a lot in my book!

I wish I could meet you back then, have a fika, and listen to the story of your life. You are important to me even though you may never know it. I look forward to seeing you again soon and wish that you would remember me but I know you will not. Still, I know the woman you were in your younger days is someone that I would have loved to know!

With love and admiration,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Eight: my favorite internet friend...

2011-08-23T19:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Brady,
First, I have to say that you were probably my first Internet friend. The first I can remember looking forward to chatting with and cracking jokes with and just plain being weird on DMusic with. We had an awful lot of fun, you and I. And we did an awful lot of great music together too. That's one thing I hope we get to do again sometime.

We've also been through a lot in a strange, far away Internet kind of way. We've talked our way through relationships, weird feelings of depression and being down, odd moments of complete joy...yet we have never really met in person. I feel that for that time we were in contact we got to know and trust one another. I still feel that way though we haven't contacted each other in a while. I know we keep track of each other on Facebook. I know that your life has taken some incredibly wonderful turns and, as your distant friend, I am so happy for you! I can tell from your photos that you are completely in love with your new baby and you will be an amazing Daddy! You also know that my life has taken some incredibly wonderful turns and I know you wish Alex and I the best. We both think of you often and wonder how you are.

So, Brady, my vampire friend :), I hope you will always know that I am there for you. If you ever need anything...someone to collaborate with, someone to bounce ideas off of, or just someone to listen, you can count on me. Always.

From my heart,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days....Day 7: the ex-boyfriend...

2011-08-22T08:33:00.000-07:00

Dear T.,
I want to thank you for dumping me. Seriously, I know I was wrecked when it happened but it was the best thing you could have ever done for me. At the time we dated, I had no self esteem. Frankly, though I wouldn't admit this at the time, I was pretty sure you were the best I could do. And that, my dear ex, is the saddest revelation I could say. Sad, because you treated me like shit. And at the time, I thought I deserved it. I thought if I was only prettier, kinder, more fun, better in all ways, that you would see how great I was and stay with me forever. Well, you didn't. What you saw was me groveling, with no back bone and no character of my own. I can't blame you for not loving that.

I was devastated when you left me. I went through a dark time, sad, lonely and full of self hate. I made myself spend time thinking, reading, drawing and, you know what? I found myself. That self that was always there but that you so successfully pushed down on a daily basis. And you know what else? That self was a pretty cool chick! I started to like her and. guess what? I love her now.

So thank you, you big prick! I would say I hope you get what you deserve in life but I don't believe in hate. Hatred just makes me ill and what's the good of that? I'll just say this...wherever you are, whoever you're with...I hope you are treating her better than you treated me. Because all women deserve to feel needed, wanted, sexy, beautiful, loved and appreciate. And right now, I do. I feel that every day of my life and I couldn't be happier!

With no regrets,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Six: A stranger...

2011-08-21T13:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Lady who walks around town in the bright miss matched clothing,

I like your style! I have a feeling though that you are dressing that way not so much out of choice but because there is some underlying reason, an illness perhaps. Still, I see you everywhere! Northside, Southside, East and West...always walking and always in a more colorful get up each time. People in town have their "stories" about you. They talk about who you are, why you do what you do, but no one really knows. You've become something of an urban legend albeit one that we all see from time to time strutting down the street. I'm kind of glad no one really knows. That makes you a true character in this town and someone that we all will remember long after you're gone.

On the other hand, if no one really knows you, it's hard to say that you are okay then too, isn't it? I believe that no one should be totally alone in life and I pray that you have a friend or a relative that you can turn to, spend time with and feel supported. No one should be alone. I've never seen you walking with anyone. You always walk alone. And the thing is, your clothes are not old or worn. They are clean and just put together in extraordinary combinations that are part 1960s remix with a hint of Steampunk thrown in. The lime green fuzzy trench coat with the purple patent leather belt worn with the striped stockings and furry boots was my particular favorite. And sometimes you wear a hat. So few people wear good hats these days!

Anyway, stranger, I always look for you when I'm out and I feel happy inside when I see you. I hope you're well and live long! We need your sense of fun and color in this city. God bless you stranger!

Sincerely,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Five: my dreams...

2011-08-20T23:02:00.000-07:00

Dear Dreams,

First of all, I want to thank you for being there for me to get me through the really rough times in my life. I know I have always been a dreamer. Even though some of you will never come true - my chances of winning an Oscar are slim to none - I will always remember you fondly. Honestly though, many of you have come true which has been a really good thing.

For instance, I've always dreamed of traveling and now I can say proudly that I have been to Europe and Scandinavia and will be going back there soon. I've also seen more places in the US than most of my family! I love that I have been able to fulfill that dream.

I've also always dreamed of having someone in my life who loves me for me and makes me feel good about myself every single day. And I have done that too! That particular dream came true in two parts. I can honestly say that my first husband also loved me very much. If we hadn't grown so far apart that might have been good enough. But I needed more than that and now I have exactly what I need. I have a husband who is like me in every way and who keeps me going even when I feel like giving up.

I still have dreams that haven't been realized yet. My dream to live abroad for one. I have a deep feeling that will come true one of these days. I will hold onto that one and never let it go.

So, my dreams, you have been good to me. I know some of you I will never see but just having you at the time kept me going. I can let those go now. On to bigger and better dreams! And one day they will all come true!

With love,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Four: the siblings...

2011-08-18T22:05:00.000-07:00

Dear Verda, Butch, Kathy, Terry and Patsy,

You are my siblings and my closest friends. I grew up knowing that there was someone who would always have my back, support me through anything and keep me grounded by checking my ego every so often. I love you all for so many reason.

Verda, you're a full 20 years older than me. I don't even have memories of living in the same house as you because you were already off to nursing school by the time my memory starts. Still, we have had some times, haven't we? When we got older, all those crazy camping trips and fun day trips just hanging out and laughing at life. You've worked for the KAC for almost 30 years now and that, in a way, has inspired me in my work too. I like that we have that common bond of working with the disabled. It's good to have someone to vent to who understands.

Butch, you're the shyest person I know but also the funniest person too. I wish you could let others see that side of you more often. You make me laugh out loud! I know how difficult it's been throughout the years as you were bringing up your kids while your wife was away. You did a great job! They're all good people and that's because of the time spent with you. You should be proud. You gave 28 years of service to this country and still work hard every day to make ends meet. I hope that one day you can retire and enjoy those beautiful grand babies you have!

Kathy, I love the crazy way you constantly talk to yourself. Chattering away, narrating your every move. I love how devoted you are to your family. Even in the tough times, you stood by with a quiet strength that reminded me so much of Dad. I love how you shine when you talk about your Grand baby Sophie and how you almost always have new photos of her to share. I hope that when you retire you and Ron see some wonderful sights in that new recreational vehicle! I wish I could come with you!

Terry, you and I are closer than the rest, probably because I rent from you and see you all the time, but there's more to it than that. I know I can tell you anything and you will never judge me or shame me. You have supported me through some very tough times, financially and emotionally, and I will never forget that. I was scared when you told me you had cancer. I could only see the end. But you faced it with grace and a spirit of life that was indefatigable. I'll always be there for you. I promise.

Patsy, oh, how you hated me when I was born! I don't blame you! You were the baby for a full seven years and then, SURPRISE, I came along all cute and dimpled and irresistible. Then Mom made you take me everywhere which only added to your resentment but guess what? We grew up and we grew close. One thing I need to say is I don't think you will ever really know how much I and the others appreciate you taking such good care of mom. We couldn't do it. You stepped up and made it happen and I know it hasn't been easy. You work from morning to night, lifting, feeding, toileting, Mom can't thank you. I love you so much for doing it. I'm going to find some way to show you how much it means to me. I truly am. You're a remarkable woman. I know we don't always agree about a lot of things but you are one hell of a strong woman and I admire you for it.

I love you all so much. I love how close we are. I know I'm spoiled having you all right here in town and I can see you all weekly and spend time with you. I love that. And I know I have friends that envy us because of that! I hope you will all be around for a long, long time!

With deepest love,
Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Three: the parents...

2011-08-17T11:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom and Dad,
Wow...it's hard to know what to say to you. Dad, you've been gone for so long now I don't really remember what you looked like anymore. I have photos and that helps but as more times passes, you become a distant memory. Yet, you taught me so much when you were here. I learned how to be a decent human being from you. I remember when you worked to bring that Hmong family over from that horrible camp in Cambodia and how much you did to change their lives for the better. This was in sprite of some of your friends expressing their somewhat ignorant racist fears that it wasn't your business to be doing that. I watched you patiently explain to them why it was everyone's business and how that Hmong father hugged you for so long when they arrived at their new home. That made a huge impression on a me, a little girl at the time. You were a good man, Dad. A great father and good friend to everyone you met. At your funeral, we never expected the outpouring of emotions from so many people. I remember that night, and how the funeral director was stunned at just how many lives you touched. He had to open two more room to accommodate them all. In my sorrow, I was proud of you all over again.

And Mom...whew, what to say. I've been seeing you struggle daily in the tenuous place between life and death. Your once "fluffy" body is skeletal and you eat like a tiny bird. I want you to let go, Mom. I don't know why you're staying so strong right now. But I want you to know it's okay to just go. We'll all be okay, Mom. You raised us well and we're strong like you. We will all be fine. Your work here is done now and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Sophie, Uncle Ted and so many more are all waiting for you. I pray that you will close your eyes one night and see them there and take that walk into the light with Dad on your arm as it is meant to be. I love you so much, my strong, smart, funny mother. I love you enough to let you go.

Mom and Dad, you two shaped the person I am today. You each gave me unique gifts and skills. And you taught me to care about people more than things. You showed me that there is good in everyone and sometimes we have to coax it out so they can see it for themselves. You gave me my great siblings! I love them all and don't know what my life would have been like without them. You instilled in me a sense of peace. You showed me the benefit of having high tolerance levels for people and how that helps me in my work and in my life. You gave me a sense of humor and sense of fun! You showed me that hard work is always worth it. I love you both more than these words can ever express and I hope that soon the two of you will be together once again.

With all my love,
Mary Beth

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Two: the crush

2011-08-14T14:44:00.000-07:00

Dear D. B.,
I was there, sitting on the floor in front of the television, watching The Midnight Special, and there you were. I was stuck on you from that first time I saw you.

You were special. I had never seen anything like you before, standing there, commanding that stage with your bright red punked out mullet, pale make up and glitter eyes. You sang like a bird, words that suddenly made sense to me. From that moment on, I was changed. So much so that the nuns at St. George Catholic School had no idea what to think of me when I walked into school with my usually shoulder length hair cropped into that shade and dyed red.

My mother would kindly tolerate my playing and replaying of that album. She never knew how much I loved you from afar. She never knew that, in those dark nights, long after she went to sleep, I would play that album and I would wish so hard I would actually become you. I was Ziggy, dancing on the imaginary stage, taking over the world, just like you.

Even now, I can honestly say, I stop in my tracks when I hear your voice. You've aged well. And the constant chameleon you are has made it possible for us to grow old together. Sure, you had some musical moments that I did not understand but, underneath it all, I knew that Ziggy would prevail and, usually, your next step in the dance would be better than the last.

So, there is it, for all the world or the two readers I have to see! You are and have always been my crush since that night in 1974 when I saw you on the Midnight Special. Long live the thin white duke!

Mary

30 Letters in 30 Days...Day One: my best friend...

2011-08-12T23:08:00.000-07:00

Dear A.,
I don't know if you know this but in addition to all of the other labels I could give you or ways I could describe you, you are my best friend. You have been for some time now. I think you sealed the deal the day I told you that secret that I never shared with anyone and you just quietly supported me through that very dark time. Right now you're waiting beside me for the inevitable bad time that we both know will happen one of these days. I have no doubt that when I need your shoulder you'll be right there with arms wide open.

I love you for that.

I know that I can always rely on you. I know that you take my moods, my silliness, my changing of my mind, my stubbornness and all those other parts of me in stride and accept me for who I am. One of the best things you do for me is make me laugh. Probably harder than anyone has ever made me laugh. I can't tell you how important this is to me.

You've opened my eyes to the big wide world, made me stop and think, and made me believe that I have something to offer this world.

You're my best friend, A. And I love you for that!

Mary

30 Letters In 30 Days...

2011-08-12T07:45:00.000-07:00

So I've seen a couple of variations on the "30 somethings in 30 days" theme but this one intrigues me because I love to write. It's 30 Letters in 30 Days. Here are the categories.

Day 1. your best friend
Day 2. your crush
Day 3. your parents
Day 4. your siblings or closest relative
Day 5. your dreams
Day 6. a stranger
Day 7. your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend
Day 8. your favorite internet friend
Day 9. someone you wish you could meet
Day 10. someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like
Day 11. a deceased person
Day 12. a person who’s caused you pain
Day 13. someone you wish could forgive you
Day 14. someone you’ve drifted away from
Day 15. the person you miss the most
Day 16. someone that’s not in your state/country
Day 17. someone from your childhood
Day 18. the person you wish you could be
Day 19. someone you can’t get out of your head
Day 20. the one who broke your heart
Day 21. someone you judged on a first impression
Day 22. someone who deserves a second chance
Day 23. the last person you kissed
Day 24. the person who gave you your favourite memory
Day 25. a person you know who is going through the worst of times
Day 26. the last person you made a pinky promise to
Day 27. the friendliest person you knew for only one day
Day 28. someone that changed your life
Day 29. the person you want to tell everything to, but are too afraid
Day 30. your reflection in the mirror

I'm going to try and do this one. I'll start later today and post the letters here in my blog. I may choose to do them to "anonymous" to protect my friends and family or I'll use initials or something. Anyway, I won't use their full names. That ought to keep them guessing! LOL

Thoughts on the Second to the Last Day before I get a week off....

2011-08-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

1. It's a most beautiful day in Wisconsin today. Too beautiful to be sitting at work. Yet, here I am.

2. I have just "blown off" an hour of training to "get ready for an upcoming appointment at 1pm". Yet, here I am, writing my blog.

3. I have to work tomorrow. It's Friday but it's the last day before I get a week off. Yet, I still have to work tomorrow and I really don't want to.

4. All of the "personalities" in this office are killing me. I'm over trying to placate grumpy people. Yet, I am the supervisor so it's part of what I do. Hence, looking forward to my week off.

5. I just ate pizza for lunch. That made the day a little bit brighter but I would rather have eaten pizza at home. Or eaten nothing at home. I just want to go home! Yet, here I am.

6. I do a job search every once in a while just to be sure there's nothing better out there. I've seen some things that have been intriguing. Yet, here I am.

7. My old boss is off today. I'm secretly hating him for it because I want to be off today. Yet, I know my time will come. Patience is a virtue.

8. My desk is a real mess. I should probably clean it up before I leave tomorrow. Yet, I don't think I will. I just don't care enough about crap like that.

9. I owe my friend $5. I've seen her here three times today. Yet, I haven't given her the money. I don't know why.

10. I think I'm starting to run out of ideas for this blog. I mean, there's stuff going on but I'm not sure I want to keep going into it. Mostly sad stuff that I try not to think about. Yet, I'm not ready to give up on this thing. Even if I use it for silly stuff like this.

In praise of McDonald's...

2011-08-09T19:28:00.000-07:00

Yes, McDonald's. The often maligned undisputed king of fast food. Oh there are others out there that have their good points but today I praise McDonald's.

"Why?" you may ask.
Well, lemme tell ya.

I LOVE...yes, LOVE...and that's a strong word there....LOVE the iced mocha frappe with whipped cream that they have at McD's now. It is a large container of coffee/chocolatey/whipped creamed heaven. Just had one tonight as a special treat. Had it two hours ago and I'm still thinking about how good that sucker was! LOL

So, hail to thee, McDonald's! Sure, you may add to the over weight problem in the United States by serving up deliciously cheap fried goodness and mouth watering shakes and coffee drinks but you know what? I applaud thee! Because every once in a while, no matter who are, what you do, how thin or fat you are, how much you SHOULD watch what you eat, how bad you KNOW that crap is for you...you know you need it. You know you want it. And you know you let your vehicle make it's way into that drive thru lane so you can, once again, taste the inherent goodness that oozes forth from those Golden Arches.

If you haven't tried the Iced Moch Frappe....what the hell are you waiting for???

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly or I'm Getting Pretty Cautious When Spending Money on a Movie

2011-08-06T22:53:00.000-07:00

We went to see "Cowboys and Aliens" tonight. The experience of this led me to write this blog entry. You see, we don't go out to movies very often unless it's something we really want to see for one reason or another. Sometimes we see things because we are interested in the genre, like Insidious or Paranormal Activity. We love horror films and so we'll pay the $9 to see them...sometimes. Other times we see things because we hear the film is a stinker but it's fun to watch simply because it's such a stinker. For example, The Devil...now that was a stinker but so over the top predictable and goofily stereotypical it became campy and it was funny, though unintentionally funny at that.

So, Cowboys and Aliens. I have to say I had high hopes for this movie. Starring Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford, it already had promise. I saw the trailer in the theater and thought, "This has potential!" I was hoping for camp, some humor - I mean, c'mon, there are cowboys and there are aliens and that could be a wonderfully humorous mix. What I got was a cowboy movie with ALL of the stereotypes in it that takes itself WAY too seriously. No campy jokes, no humorous takes, no innuendo. Just straight up die hard cowboys, each with their own BORING story, trying to fight aliens. I kept waiting for more alien action because, frankly, when the aliens were attacking that was the only time anything interesting ever really happened in this film. However, when you actually get to see the aliens running around - they are the most non-scary aliens ever. They are the visual equivalent of giant toads with tiny baby heads and little, itty bitty hands with three toes on them. The actors in this film do a good job with what they got. Daniel Craig is suitably broody with his steely blue eyes. Harrison Ford is adequately gruff as the weather worn war hero turned cattle man with an attitude. Everyone else, the spectacle wearing saloon owner, the wimpy cattle man's son, the adopted Indian who adores the cattle man, the tired out Sheriff - they all do their part and do it well but it never really gives them teeth or anything to work toward. This film, directed by Jon Favreau, is a stinker! I should have waited for it to come out on Netflix and saved the $9.

So that was the Bad and the $9 is the Ugly. For two of us, $18 to get in the theater. Two small popcorns and two medium Cokes later was another $18. $36 just like that. OUCH!!! That is ugly!!

So the Good...well, the good happened last week. We went to see Horrible Bosses starring Jason Bateman, Jason Sudeikis, and Charlie Day. It also stars Jennifer Aniston, Kevin Spacey and Colin Farrell (in a role I did not even recognize him in!). I have to tell you that I rarely go see comedy movies in the theatre. One, they usually aren't funny and, two, the crowd is usually full of people who think they are in their own living room and talk to the screen. This film was hilarious! I can't remember the last time I actually laughed out loud at a movie. This one had me rolling. The premise is three guys who hate their bosses and decide to kill them off but they will kill each others bosses, not their own. These three could not kill a fly with a hand gun so they "hire" a pro who takes their money only to give them tips rather than do it himself. (Jamey Fox in a hysterical role!) Just let me say the next series of circumstance, one after another, each one funnier than the last, makes this movie worth paying to see. Jason Bateman is great as the deadpanned mastermind. Jason Sudeikis is funny as the horny sidekick who keeps letting himself stray off the path. But the one that really made me laugh was Charlie Day. I've never seen this guy in anything else and he was so damn funny. There's a scene involving cocaine which he accidentally spills and then start cleaning it up that just cracks me up even thinking about it! Anyway, this was a good one. Well worth the cash and definitely a hit with me!

A few words about Winehouse...

2011-07-25T13:05:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about Amy Winehouse since hearing of her death. I was somewhat of a fan of hers. Not a huge fan, mind you, but I did enjoy her music when it would play on my shuffle. She was talented. She went back and dug into the music she loved and made it current and relevant.

She was also an addict.

Though the toxicity report on her is still out, I'm sure there will be some link to her almost constant use of drugs. Whether she had them on board when she died or not, a little body such as hers cannot last too long under all that abuse.

I've heard so many disparaging remarks made about her since her death. Things like, "No big surprise" and "I'm surprised she lasted this long" to "what a freakin' mess she was". It's sad really. Sad because her death will now supercede her talent and she will always be known as the sad addict who couldn't control herself. I'm sure she was much more than that.

Addiction is a funny beast. To addicts, their drug of choice seems so fun and exciting until the day when they realize they cannot control it anymore. Then they begin living for the beast. They do it in spite of knowing they are killing themselves, hurting the ones they love and ruining their lives forever. Even those who manage to beat it cannot go back to truly make amends. The damage, physical, mental and emotional, is done. The best they can do is to live the rest of their lives trying to prove they've changed. And sometimes the acceptance they so need just never comes. That's why so many relapse. It takes courage to kick it and learn to love themselves. That courage is hard to find.

I work with addicts every day. Some are addicted to alcohol, some to cocaine, some to other harder drugs. Some are addicted to seeking approval. Some, to hurting themselves. Addictions come in many forms. But one thing I know for sure is this - all of these addicts are real people, with real hopes, and dreams and stories that you knock you on your ass. They've lived through some of the worst abuse you could ever imagine. They have felt unloved and unwanted their whole lives. Yet, they are funny, personable, talented, caring individuals. They just can't see that in themselves.

I'm sure Amy Winehouse had a story too. No one just starts out "normal" and becomes "an addict". There is a significant amount of "footwork" that happens when they are children or teen agers. There is a feeling of loss, of nothingness, of being less than everyone else. There is abuse, in some cases, and neglect, in others. Drugs, for that brief moment, take that away and fill that void and make people feel bigger than they are. That's how they get you. And once they have you, you are theres. Sometimes, unfortunately, right up til the end.

The arbitrary time detail...

2011-07-22T05:47:00.000-07:00

So, about a year ago, the mental health program I work in was managed by another agency that was located directly across the street from us here at this agency. They would open their doors to their clients at 9:30am each morning. All morning, starting somewhere around 8am, people would start lining up outside their building in the rain, sleet, snow, heat, whatever. When the agency I work for got the contract for the program, we decided to extend our "open hours" times so that people would not have to wait outside while braving the elements. We decided to open up at 7:30am.

Now, you'd think that change would have made a difference and folks wouldn't be lining up. Well, guess again. I come to work each day at 7am and there are at least 6 people already out there waiting. They get demanding and the other day rang the bell demanding to be let in because it was so hot out there.

The humanitarian in me wanted to let them in to get out of the heat but the realist in me knew that once they were in at 7am they would be here at that time everyday demanding to get in no matter what the weather. So, we made them wait that extra half hour.

I'm not sure what compels them to be here before the building opens. They can't really get anything before 9:30am anyway. That's when all of our nurses are here and our med room can open up. So they sit. They wait in the waiting area and sit. We don't have coffee there. No donuts. Not even a cookie! They just sit and wait for two hours. I don't get it. I have never in my life wanted to be somewhere that early for no reason. I'm prompt to my appointments. Maybe even a wee bit early. But never two hours! I just don't get it.

I'm sure if we changed the time to 5:30am they would be out there at 4am. It's unexplainable.

Another bitch rant about the heat...

2011-07-20T11:50:00.001-07:00

No, seriously, this heat is all that's on my mind right now so that's what I'm writing about. Today we cancelled "Bingo" for our clients due to the heat. What kind of crazy heat does there have to be in order for "Bingo" to be cancelled!? This kind of crazy heat, that's what. The kind that sucks out your will to live in just minutes. We told everyone to stay home, drink water and stay cool. Of course, some of them didn't listen and those that didn't were here screaming at us for something or other. Normally, the screamers are few and far between but today, what with everyone's will to live sucked out of them, they were rampant.

It is too damn hot here today.

It's too hot to even go to the beach.

It's too hot for clothes (though they appreciate it when you keep those on at work).

It's too hot for chit chat. That just makes my boiled brain hurt.

It's too hot to concentrate on anything. People are walking around the office like zombies.

It's too hot to get up and refill my water bottle. But I will because I need the water.

It's too hot to eat.

It's too hot for shoes. Flip flops at work? Hells yeah! I dare someone to call me on it...I just dare them! (insert stern mean mug photo here)

It's too hot to drive. Have I mentioned my AC in my car doesn't work? I drove Alex home from work so he didn't have to walk and it was like driving him home in a microwave. Without the added benefit of popcorn.

It's too hot to listen to music. My ear buds make my head sweat.

I want to be somewhere cold having one of these.

I love summer. It's my favorite time of year, next to Christmas, but please, for the love of all that's holy, please make this heat wave stop.

Crazy from the heat...

2011-07-19T05:58:00.000-07:00

It's hot here. Seriously, ungodly hot. I keep watching the weather just to see if and when we can expect some relief but it never comes. I keep looking at the sky hoping that haze is really a cloud formation that might, just might, drop some cooling rain but it never does. It's horribly, miserably, disgustingly hot.

Yesterday, when we were getting in my non-air conditioned car, Alex asked, "What kind of weather is this???" My sentiments exactly.

When it gets like this people get crazy. Oh not right away, no. First, they get lethargic then the crazy sets in. It's a quiet sort of brain boiling crazy that makes people snap at a moments notice for no real reason except that it's hot. Yesterday at work, people were snapping all day long. There was no predicting it either. Some of the quietest, nicest, most unassuming people just went off and it can only be attributed to this heat.

When you work with people with mental illness, there are things you have to remind them of. One, dress for the weather. Medications make people's body temps go kerflooey and we get a lot of people walknig around in 90+ temps with sweatshirts and ski caps. Two, drink water. Lots of it. We try to have water here by the case on days like this so we can give them all some when they stop in. Three, GO HOME! Why people want to be out and about in this crap is beyond me but I swear I shooed more people out of here yesterday and told them to go home to sit in their AC.

I'm not immune to the heat. I hate it. I get cranky and know I am usually on the verge of my own snap. Today it's hot again and I hope I can hold it together.

Because I hate this. Have I said that? Well, I do. I like warm summer weather but this humidity has to go. I'm gonna go out and look at the clouds. Hoping...

What to feel...

2011-07-15T22:25:00.000-07:00

It's hard to know what to feel these days. I mean, as you know, my mother is dying. I go to work everyday and deal with other people's problems. I can't say as I am upset all day. I'm really not. I get through it and even manage to have some laughs. I come home to my loving hubby and we have a good time relaxing or reading or going out for a Mocha Frappe...just normal stuff. And I really enjoy it. I got over to my sister's to see my mom. I talk to her for a minute or two and then she waves me away so she can sleep again.

In my heart, I know I will fall apart when she finally closes her eyes that last time. In my head, I wish she would take that last breath and go peacefully into the next adventure. And I don't know how to feel when I see her in pain and unhappy and deep down I am wishing she would just go already. She is suffering and even though I know my thoughts are coming from a good place, I just don't know how to feel about secretly wishing my mother would pass away. It seems wrong but I know it is right.

I get sad sometimes. And Alex pointed out that I seem quiet at times. I guess I do. I don't mean to. It just comes and goes.
Other times I am very happy. I celebrate this strong woman's life and think of all the great lessons she taught me and all the wonderful times we've had. I love her. For everything she is, everything she gave me, everything she taught me. She deserves a celebration.

Still...how do you tell someone you love that it's time to let go and it's okay to surrender? How do you tell someone to go ahead and die? And even though, deep down, you know it's the right thing, how the hell are you supposed to feel about wishing every night that this night will be her last?

Dignity...

2011-07-09T09:18:00.000-07:00

My mother is dying.

Sorry to be so blunt but there is no other way to put that which both gets right to the point and illustrates the abruptness of death, regardless of how long a person lives.

She is dying.

Over the past months, I've watched her struggle to come to terms with her own mortality. When she had her stroke, she fought with each breath her 93 year old body could muster. She worked hard through her therapy and always, always, always lamented each day she had to be in that nursing home. She was being tube fed and all she could think about was solid food. She's ask us, every single time we visited, what we had to eat that day. When the day came when she could eat solid food again, she told me to "go home" when I came to visit her at that first dinner hour. She wanted to savor that dinner roll all on her own without the interruption of having to also make small talk! When she finally came home, she continued to work through her therapies but it was difficult. She was tired. Her body couldn't take much more.

She became frustrated. This was taking too long, this recovery. And it was harder than she could imagine. And she was stuck in a body that wouldn't cooperate, wearing adult diapers, not able to make sense of her words but with a mind as sharp as a tack which made it all the more frustrating. She became sad. She never wanted to be a burden, to have someone have to do anything for her let alone now do literally everything. She suffered the embarrassment of having her son-in-law have to lift her to the toilet while someone else pulled her pants down exposing her just so she could eliminate herself. She choked, often. Her ability to swallow was compromised so even the slightest bit of food or water could set off terrifying bouts of coughing and gasping for air. She ate less and less and now eats so little she is barely getting any nutrition at all. She went from a robust 148 pounds to about 90 pounds, if that. She cannot heal. She has a sore on her bottom and backside that is eating into her muscle and bone and oozing all the time in spite of the nurses packing it daily. Her pain increased in spite of her trying to keep up with therapy and now she is on morphine all the time.

My mother is dying. But...

She is dying at home surrounded by her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. She has at least one moment every day when she still gets a good laugh. She hears someone say "I love you" several times each day. She gets to sit and pet Bella, her best canine friend. She has time to sit outside with the sun warming her thin face. She has been able to smell the spring flowers and see the first summer veg come up in the garden. She has been able to watch and bemoan her beloved Chicago Cubs while gently sipping a Miller Genuine Draft that she is never able to finish. She can still play cards every weekend. And win. She quietly welcomed her sisters for a visit a few weeks ago and tolerated that as best she could. They were understanding and grateful of the time they had together. It will be there last. She prays everyday. She asks if she will get to heaven. If she doesn't, none of us have a chance! She wonders what heaven will be like and we assure her that it will be just as she always believed it to be with Dad and my Grandparents and Aunt Sophie all waiting to welcome her in.

One day soon, I know, my mother will stop breathing and go into that great last adventure. After watching her struggle and hurt and suffer and wane away to almost nothing, I know that day will be a blessing for her. I'm ready for that day. I think she is too. But what I am most grateful for is that my mother could spend these last months, weeks, days, in the bosom of her family. Family has always been the most important thing in her life. We grew up with nothing but she always made us understand that we have each other. And now she has us and this is the proof that there can and should be dignity in life and dignity in death. No one should die alone and unloved. My mother will be celebrated when she finally passes. She will be celebrated by her former students, her colleagues, her friends but most of all her family. We are all who we are today because of her. We owe her so much. And I know that my life, in some way, has been a testament to this amazing lady.

My mother is dying.
And we are all at peace with that.

The Aftermath...

2011-07-05T10:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, we got together with family and friends to celebrate Independence Day as we always do. My niece throws a ginormous party that starts mid-afternoon and goes on long after the fireworks at night. Everyone brings food and drinks and, let me tell ya, we do it up right! Here's just a partial list of what was served:

Home made meat ball bombers.
Brats and wienies.
Potato salad
Oriental rice noodle casserole (my sister in law is from Taiwan and the woman can COOK!)
Grape salad
Home made buffalo chicken hot dip.
Deviled eggs.
Fresh fruit!
Chips chips and more chips
Brownies
Cookies
Home made mini- cherry pies
More brownies
Chocolate chip cake
Confetti cake
Cupcakes
More cookies
Don't even get me started on the tequila soaked watermelon!
Rum Chata!
Shock Top Raspberry Wheat Beer
Mille Lite and Genuine Draft (C'mon...this is Wisconsin, after all!)
Pina colada slushies!
Did I mention the tequila soaked watermelon??? Oh yeah, I did!

We ate and drank and ate and then drank some more. It was a blast! Literally. We ended the night sitting on the shores of Lake Michigan watching the fireworks. Well, we didn't end the night there. We went back and ate and drank some more and then ended the night.

This morning came WAY TOO EARLY!! And it is a work day. And that sucks...big time! But it was fun in the biggest way and a well needed party break for everyone. Good times all around. Hope your Fourth of July was just as fun wherever you celebrated!

The Ritual of the Parade...

2011-07-03T09:26:00.000-07:00

This morning, very early, Alexander and I performed what is an annual ritual. It starts out with an early morning hunt. We equip ourselves with as many chairs as we can handle and, this time, a very long piece of rope. We get up before the birds are waking. And we drive. We scope the entire downtown Kenosha area for the exact spot to pounce! Then, after we're satisfied that we have the place - we set up the lawn chairs on the spot for watching the parade later on in the day. Thus begins the Fourth of July Independence Day celebrations. The parade here is on the 3rd. Go figure.

There's method to our madness. You see, there's much to be considered when choosing the right parade viewing spot.

First, you ask yourself, which way with the sun be coming from at parade time. This is an important question to ask and it was learned after one horrible year when we faced the sun and then spent the next week in agony from the sunburn we received on our face and legs.

Second, how far away from the spot is the nearest restroom. (and also, is that restroom a "port-a-john" or a real, honest to god restroom!). Also, very important question to ask! Probably more important now that we're all older and our bladders can't hold it as long!

Third, consider the area closely and ask, "How many doofus, chucklehead, yahooligans will be wandering through this area come parade time?" Another lesson well learned. We used to sit on 60th street, near uptown Kenosha. After a couple of years of our Patriotic music, floats and high school band having to compete with the "F" bomb and the "N' word being yelled around behind us, we moved. Free public events sometimes bring out the dregs of Kenosha behavior, unfortunately.

So that's the criteria! I think we got a good spot this year! And I came back home and slept some more from the early morning hunt so I'm good to go!

Happy Fourth Everyone!!

July already?

2011-07-01T12:45:00.000-07:00

It seems this summer is passing me by! I can't believe it's already the Fourth of July weekend! I confess this is my favorite time of the year and this weekend is probably my second favorite holiday. The first is Christmas, of course.

What's to like about this holiday?

1. The Kenosha Civic Vets Parade - I have attended this parade every year since I was born. There've been some good years and some not so good year, in terms of parade attractions. There used to be way more clowns...which I hate. But they were also kind of fun...especially the one in the bathtub that rode around and would douse us with cold water. That was refreshing after sitting out in the hot sun all day waiting for the parade to start. I love the bands. When I was a kid I had friends who marched in the local bands. Now I have nieces and nephews who march in them. I always make a fool out of myself screaming their names as they march past. There used to be those great Kiwanis peanuts but they don't sell those anymore. But there are still cool and useless things to buy and I always do! Last year, it was a funny hat. The year before it was a blow up Superman thing. We get out there early, about 8am, and sit there all day until the parade starts at 2pm. We get McDonald's food and eat Twizzlers and drink copious amounts of water and slather on layers of sunscreen and we laugh and have a great time. I highly recommend it.

2. Our annual July Fourth back yard party. For the past couple of years it's been at my niece's home across the street from mine. We all bring food, sit around, do crazy things, play silly games, drink loads of beer and just generally have a good time. It ends with us walking up the street to sit on the rocky shore of Lake Michigan to watch the fireworks. That brings me to...

3. The fireworks - Now when I was a kid our fireworks used to be down on Simmons Island. We'd stake a spot on the grassy hill and ooh and awww as they shot out bursts of spectacular light over the lake. We'd listen to patriotic music as played by the Kenosha Pops and there was always some chick twirling flaming batons just before they started the big show. Then one year there was a terrible accident. The stand the fireworks were connected to tipped over toward the crowd just as they went off and those beautiful bursts of sparkly light became horrible shots of hot sparkling flames that shot directly into the crowd! That was the end of that. Now they shoot them off the North pier, far away from crowds. We can still see them and ooh and awww but it's never really been the same.

4. Sparklers and snakes - As a kid, we always had sparklers for after the fireworks. And snakes, those little pellets you light that cause an acrid stench of yellow smoke but squirm out into a long, black snake pattern before going out. These were the only two things we ever got. Now, in my neighborhood, there is a constant blast of bottle rockets and M-80s long after the "official" fireworks are over. Supposedly it's illegal to have this stuff in Kenosha but the police mostly turn a blind eye and it goes on all night.

The sad part comes in knowing that once it's all over the summer is waning and the end is near. But I won't think about that now. For now, I'm thinking about funnel cakes, brats, and beers! Happy Fourth everyone!

Family...

2011-06-27T19:22:00.001-07:00

My brushes with greatness...

2011-06-24T16:20:00.000-07:00

I have to confess. I am in a bit of a slump these days. Just got a lot on my plate and feeling a wee bit low. But I read my friend Paul's blog today. It was all about women who love the Three Stooges (which I still think is a myth!) and he had a couple of anecdotes from readers about times they actually met or spoke to one of the Stooges. This got me remembering my own "brushes with greatness"! No, I never met one of the Three Stooges but I did meet a handful of great actors back in the day - John Cusack, Aidan Quinn, Tom Cruise and Robert Deniro, to name a few. Let me tell you about meeting these four.

Awhile back, I lived in Chicago and I was acting and working with a theatre company called, igLoo, the theatrical group. No, that's not misspelled. We were cool like that. LOL Anyway...

We did some very avantgarde stuff and it started getting the attention of the local press which then got the attention of other actors that wanted to come and work with us. One of these was a great broad named Elizabeth Bracco. She is the sister of Lorraine Bracco and the wife of Aidan Quinn. Through her I met Aidan. Lizzie and I were in a few shows together and occasionally we would pal around. One Monday night, Lizzie called me and asked me to come over to her apartment and hang out making jewelry and ordering in sushi. Aidan was watching the World Series and she wasn't interested in that. So, I went over. Now, at this time, the movie "The Untouchables" was filming in Chicago. Many of my friends are in that movie as extras. I can spot them sitting in the train station and lying face down in pools of blood throughout the film! But I digress...

So, I go over to Lizzie's. She lets me in and we go to the dining room where all the jewelry making stuff was laid out. Then she takes me into the living room where Aidan is watching the game with a buddy. I look up as Lizzie is saying "this is my friend Mary, Mary - this is Bob" and I am met with the enormous smiling face of Robert Freakin' Deniro! Deniro was in town shooting the movie. He was playing Al Capone to Kevin Costner's Elliot Ness. He shakes my hand and says, "nice to meet ya" and goes back to the watching the game. I'm sure I mumbled something but I honestly don't remember what I said! What I remember was retreating to the kitchen where I chastised Lizzie! I mean, she could have warned me that I was about to meet one of the greatest actors to ever live. You can't just spring Robert Deniro on someone like that!! Sheesh!

At this time, when we weren't doing our own shows, we would rent out our theatre space to other companies who needed some place to rehearse or perform. One day, my friend who ran the company asked me to meet with a new potential renter because she and her husband were going to be out that day. So I waited at the theatre for about an hour. She didn't tell me who the potential renter was. So imagine my surprise when John Cusack walked in! He was the nicest guy in the world too. I showed him the space and he ended up renting it. Unfortunately, some of his people got into our costumes and pretty much trashed them which ended the rental relationship badly. But oh well...

The one day Lizzie invited us over for Aidan's birthday party. We went out and bought an old bowling trophy and wrapped it up for him! The apartment was packed! People everywhere! My friends and I were pretty much stuck in the living room but we were thirsty so I volunteered to squeeze my way into the kitchen to get us some beers. I pushed my way through the crowd, down the hall and into the kitchen. I grabbed 5 beers to take back to my friends. When I turned around to start back through the crowd I was face to face with Tom Cruise. He laughed and said, "Those aren't all for you, are they?" I laughed and said something really clever, "no". And that was that. By the way, Tom Cruise is short. Seriously short. Shorter than you can even imagine he would be. I had a good two feet on him.

So, those are some of my brushes with greatness. There are others - Elizabeth Taylor, William Windom, and a few more. But those four all happened at a very good time in my life and with the mood I'm in lately it did me some good remembering. So, still not a Three Stooges fan but there ya go! LOL

All about my Dad...

2011-06-19T20:21:00.000-07:00

I've been without my dad for a long time now. He passed away in 1978. So...Father's Day tends to come and go with me and other than a quiet "thank you", I really don't think much about it anymore. But, today, as I was reading some friend's blogs and various post around the Internet, I started thinking of my Dad and some of the things I learned from him.

Things I Learned From My Dad:

1. I learned how to argue. I mean seriously argue. Argue to the point where the other guy just gives up out of shear exhaustion! My Dad was a master at this. While some may see this as a flaw I can honestly say this lesson has had it's good points as well. I was able to haggle a decent price on a new car all by myself. I've been able to negotiate decent pay raises and additional time off with pay at work. So, even if I can make my loved ones crazy at times, I can also talk my way out of a speeding ticket...all thanks to Dad.

2. Spend a little more to get the right one. This is a lesson that was completely lost on my mother and it was the cause of many a husband/wife tiff in their marriage. My mother was/is a firm believer in paying as little as possible for anything. She "settled" for cheap products made to look "like" the more expensive, more durable counterpart and she was always upset and disappointed when the cheap crap didn't work right or broke. My Dad, on the other hand, was of the mind that, for some things, you paid for the better brand, the better product and it would reward you by lasting a lifetime. Some things he would not scrimp on - stereo equipment, steaks, television sets, phones, golf clubs, and candy. Yes, candy. My Dad always had the best candy. And he always shared it with me.

3. Take time to learn about the world. My Dad read books and encyclopedias about other countries all the time. He poured over their cultures, their traditions, their taboos, and their politics. He encouraged me to live beyond the four walls of our house, the side streets of our small city and the borders of our country. My Dad would be proud that I have travelled internationally. He would love spending time talking to and arguing with my Swedish husband. My Dad was Irish and always dreamed of seeing Ireland one day. He never got there. I intend to go there one day, just to share that with his memory.

4. In golf and Scrabble, a little white lie goes a long way. My Dad cheated. He did! He would forget to add strokes to his golf score and turn Scrabble tiles over when we weren't looking so it would look like a blank. He would vehemently deny doing this when caught but he would try it again and again!

5. My Dad could sing. My Dad would walk around the house once in a while singing songs that he made up. He had a beautiful Irish tenor voice and he only sang for us.

6. Every time my Mom told my Dad she was pregnant he would respond in the same way. He would take my mother in his arms and hug her tight and say, "Isn't that the best news you ever heard?" I love thinking of that moment. Of course, I've never witnessed it since I'm the baby of the family but just the thought of them in that embrace makes me smile.

7. My Dad worked every day of his life until he retired. At first, he was a day laborer working for a gardener in Illinois. Then he was a Union man, working at J. I. Case in Racine, WI. Then he owned and operated his own bar and restaurant. He worked 7 days a week until he retired in the '70s. Then he made every free day count!

8. My Dad's chili can beat up your Dad's chili. When my Dad retired he became the chief cook and bottle washer at our house. He spent weeks, months, years perfecting his chili recipe which, I can say with some certainty, was the hottest, spiciest, tastiest chili ever. I have never been able to duplicate his chili in spite of having a hand written recipe. I think the stinker left something out on purpose!

9. No matter how long you live, life is too short. I was going to try to have an even 10 things my Dad taught me but I'm cutting it off short for a reason. My Dad died at the age of 78 from complications from chemotherapy used to treat his leukemia. 78 seems like a good long life but, you know what? It wasn't. I wanted more time with my Dad. Even though I was well prepared for his inevitable death, I feel gypped. I feel like he was stolen from me. I"m sure that my Dad had many more lessons to teach me and I will never have them. He was gone too soon in spite of his age. That's why this list ends. Just like my Dad did.

I hope that you've all taken time to think about your Dads. If they're still here...give him a hug and thank him. Spend time with him. If he's gone, thank him anyway. Just like I did now. My Dad's name was Vivian.... most called him Kelly....some called him Sonny (don't ask...it's a weird family thing). Whatever he went by I know you all would have liked him. And he might have taught you a couple of things too!

A gathering of elders...

2011-06-16T09:28:00.000-07:00

Next week I'm taking three days off to help my sister at her home while she plays hostess to my mother, my mother's sisters, and three of my cousins. My Aunt Mayme and my Aunt Sister Loyola are coming to town. They're coming with my cousins Virgie, Shari and Mickey. My aunties are 89 and 90 years old and my mother is 93. This is going to be the last time they'll all be together.

While I anticipate that this visit will be fun and there will be some laughs, it will also be bittersweet knowing that these three great ladies - North Dakota farm raised - will be seeing each other for the last time. They haven't seen my mom since she had her stroke last Christmas. She's significantly worse than she was, even immediately following the stroke. She tires easily, cannot do anything for herself, is wheel chair bound, and, try as she might, she cannot hold a conversation because her words mix up to the point of frustration. Deep down, I know she is looking forward to seeing them but she shakes her head, "no", when asked about the visit. She says no to almost everything now.

My sister is an amazing woman taking all of this on. She's been a rock - a dedicated care giver to my mom since even before the stroke. There's not anything that could repay her for all of the time and effort she's expended for her sake. She bathes her, feeds her, takes her to all of her appointments, lifts her, repositions her and keeps her spirits up every day. She even renovated her house to accommodate her.

I fully expect that one day, me and my sisters will be in our 80s and 90s and gathering together somewhere for our last visit too. It will be fun. We will have some laughs. And it will be as bittersweet as the days next week are bound to be.

Putting on my big girl panties....

2011-06-12T21:04:00.000-07:00

This Friday, we are closing on the selling of my mother's house.

I have mixed feelings about this. I mean, I know it was inevitable. My mother hasn't actually lived in the house for over a year now. She's lived with my sister who takes great care of her even after her stroke. Several years ago, when my mom was healthy she had the forethought to "sell" her house to me and my siblings. She had an attorney draw up the sale and then over time forgave the debt which meant we didn't actually pay anything. She lived in the house as our "tenant" paying the heat and utilities as her rent. It was a pretty good plan - one that allowed her to stay in her home for many years on a very low, fixed income. But now...

That house was the second home I ever lived in. We moved there when I was in the 4th grade. I remember that so clearly because we could never find my gym shoes after that and I had an "excuse" to skip gym for a while. I lived there until after I graduated from the University of Wisconsin - Parkside. Then I moved to Chicago for four years but came back nearly every weekend to visit (and do my laundry!). Then I moved back home and lived there for a long time - just me and my mom. That's why we have always been so close. I got to spend a lot of time with her, in that house, alone and that's a luxury my siblings never had.

Her house is old. It needs a lot of work - new electrical, new sub-flooring, the kitchen is in the basement - not exactly a great selling point. But we have a buyer and we close on Friday. Me and my brother and sisters will gain a little cash from the sale. Not much - because it's not worth much. Well, at least from a realtor's point of view. To me, it's worth millions because it's filled with memories of growing up, becoming a real person, learning so many lessons, laughter, tantrums and tears. There is no price tag on that.

So, Friday, I will put on my big girl panties, take a deep breath, and face one of those milestones that life sometimes hands out. And I'll be fine.

Having a perfect day...

2011-06-05T19:39:00.001-07:00

Today was an absolutely gorgeous day here in Kenosha, WI. And, as luck would have it, there was a festival going on right down the street from where I live. It's called The Outta Sight Kite Flight and Kenosha has this one every year. This year, I think, was the first time they actually had almost perfect weather for it. There was music, food and, of course, kites! The Chicago Fire Kite Ballet Team performed which was pretty spectacular. They use "fighting" kites to perform synchronized routines set to music. There were gigantic kites, like the red octopus, and a HUGE wind sock shaped kite which never managed to make it off the ground. Too heavy for the lighter winds but still it was a sight to see! The sun was warm, the people friendly, the kites were beautiful. Who could ask for more?

Well, it got even better when we had dinner at Big Star. Big Star is a drive in place in Kenosha - one of two that exists and in this town it is a hot topic during the summer as to which of those two you prefer. I like them both but Big Star is only open for the summer months where The Spot is open all year round. So, better get to Big Star while it's open! It was delicious, as always.

I've decided to try to enter this local contest that the Kenosha Area Convention and Visitors Bureau is having. It's called Be A Tourist in Your Town. The idea is to take part in as many local events, take photos and submit them. I've got a good start so far and summer is just getting going! Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and win something!

In the meantime, get out and enjoy your town. Wherever that may be!

Wonder World WIde Web...

2011-06-04T09:09:00.001-07:00

As some of you know, I am a Facebook addict. I got to that site 20 times per day to play games, see what my friends are up and whatnot. For better or worse, there it is. I can honestly say that there has been one HUGE "for better" that I much appreciate about Facebook. Because it is so popular, I have been able to reconnect with many people in my life that I had thought were left only in memory.

Last night was one of the best of those moments. Previously, I had reconnected with some of the girls I went to grade school with. Yes, grade school. And we've been chatting it up and making plans to meet up for lunch all this week. I can't wait for that! But last night, I was reconnected with one of my very best friends from back in the day. She was someone I had lost track of and thought of constantly throughout my life. My friend Nikki! My god..when I found her on Facebook the messages started and the texts and it was like we were both 13 again! We were a pair back then, Nikki and I. We were both WAY into music and liked almost the same artists. Bowie and Elton were the big two but for some reason she also had this penchant for Randy Newmann! I could never quite figure that out! Anyway, we used to write these ginormous notes to each other all the time. I mean, at night, at home, writing 15 page notes to give each other the next day in school. The notes were all about our fantasies about marrying rock stars and seeing the world! We had vivid imaginations!

We've been enjoying getting to know one another again. She reminded me of something very funny! She had a picture back then of her brother and some of his friends. There was one friend, John, who I thought was a hotty! She is now married to John but she reminded me of how I said "I want him!" when I saw the picture!! LOL I told her at least she ended up with the hot one!

Luckily, Niks lives in Wisconsin still and gets to Kenosha about once a month. So, we will see each other again. Oh yes we will. I had forgotten how important friends were back then. How much we got each other through at 13. There's a line in "Stand By Me" at the end of the movie that alludes to the serious bonding nature of the friendships of that age. Something like "Did we ever have friends like those we had when we were that age?" And the answer is really no, we don't have that same youthful imagination or careful tending of each other's easily broken hearts that we did back then. When' we're adults we are too filled with adult things and responsibilities to forge those kinds of friendships. Oh, we have good friendships....friends we'd do anything for...but when you think about it deeply, it's not the same.

Reuniting with Nikki brought all of that back to me. All of the teen age hopes and dreams and fears and wondering was plopped right back in my lap. And when we started writing each other again there was a feeling of instant acceptance. There's no ego attached with a friend who knows you inside and out. Nikki knows me. Always has. And I'm finding an enormous amount of comfort in that. I can't wait to see her.

Yearning for change but appreciating where I am...

2011-05-31T20:11:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was a teen ager. I kept thinking the only way to get anywhere in this life was going to be by getting the hell outta Kenosha. K-bomb, K-nowhere....we used to call it. And so I left. For four years plus, I lived in Chicago and, quite frankly, I loved every blessed minute of it. But, when the time came, I came home to Kenosha.

As I've grown up (and I'm still growing up in many ways!) I learned that there are some really cool things about this town that I grew up (and am growing up) in. First, the lake. Yes, it's the same lake that I frequented in Chicago but no where along this great lake is access to the lake shore more open and free to the public than right here in Kenosha. Not in Chicago...though there is access, and certainly not in Racine where they've mucked up their lake front with far too many buildings. Ours is open for a long way. And, it's a mere stroll away from my house. I've said it before but I love this lake.

There's also quite alot of park space in Kenosha. I mean, seriously, in the neighborhoods there are these little green spaces that just pop up out of nowhere. All free. And all being used.

Another cool thing is there is a lot of stuff to do in Kenosha, especially at this time of year. This weekend alone there are two free events happening. The Outta Site Kite Flight right up the street from me and the Summertime Art Show at the Civic Center Park. Both really fun events and, again, they're free.

We have an honest to goodness drive in theatre here that plays first run movies. It always means summer when the "out door" opens.

We have FOUR museums. Yes, they are small but they are also interesting and a good way to spend an afternoon.

We have THREE colleges/universities which all offer great opportunities for education and entertainment throughout the year. And there are a slew of other charter universities around town too.

We are an hour away from Milwaukee. I plan to take advantage of that and go to Summerfest this year. Lots of great music on the free stages. (Paulie...Dropkick Murphys...for FREE...July 8 or 9th!) Not to mention some great talent at the Marcus. Would love to see Peter Gabriel and Florence and the Machine.

We're also a short train ride from Chicago. I'm planning a day trip down there this summer. The Art Institute is free on Wednesdays! Sounds like a good day to go! I love the Art Institute. When I lived in Chi-town, I would spend those days when I didn't really have any plans at the Art Institute immersed in Jackson Pollock and Dekooning. So many great works of art just an arm's length away.

And, of course, Kenosha is where my family lives. That's important to me. Still...
I have that yearning feeling. As much as I love it here I would move in a heart beat if I could move to the right place at the right time. And, for me, that would be Sweden. Until then, I plan to take advantage of all that Kenosha is serving up this summer. I'ma gonna have FUN!! Hope you all do too!!

Meanderings on Memorial Day Weekend...

2011-05-29T22:26:00.000-07:00

I would say I'm not big on sentiment but those who know me would say I was lying. I guess I'm not big on sentiment in the usual way. For instance, this weekend is Memorial Day weekend. Now I know the real meaning of this holiday is to remember all of those who have fought and given their lives for our freedom. But, it's also a time to remember those in our own families that have gone ahead.

I was out to St. George Cemetery yesterday. Strangely enough, not to pay my respects to my father who is buried there. I just don't believe he is still there. I mean, yes, his body is there under the ground but my Dad is not. He's all around me, in my thoughts, in who I am. I don't get those people who believe that last resting place is the place to go and "visit" their deceased loved ones. Anyway, I digress...

What fascinates me most about St. George Cemetery, or any cemetery for that matter, is the grave stones. I wonder who were these people, how did they live, who loved them, who did they love, what did they do, and, finally, how did they die? The dates on the stones make me think of these things. I'll see one man, born in 1881 and died 1971. He lived a long life and I wonder what life he had? And right next to him, a girl, born in 1882 and died 1884. Just two years old. Makes me wonder how she died. I get lost in trying to create the stories of the people buried there. Anyway, I took some pictures while I was there. So here they are...

Happy Memorial Day Everyone!

Jonesing for a vacay...

2011-05-27T08:41:00.000-07:00

This week...ugh...what can I say about this week? It started with me not feeling well and is ending with me being pressed by an enormous amount of work related stress. Yesterday, I thought my head was going to explode.

I realize that, in life, we cannot control what happens 24/7. What we can control is our reaction to it. Yesterday, I swear, the planets seemed to have aligned against me but I held it together and managed to get through the day without actually acting on my homicidal thoughts. I was brain dead by the end of it but...hopeful that today would be better.

What's fueling these feelings of overwhelming fright or flight (which I have thus far been successful in keeping at bay) is the fact that I am jonesing for a vacation in a major way. I want to get on a plane, take off for at least three weeks, and fly to sunny Karlstad to see my father in law and hang out in the beautiful Swedish landscape. I want it bad and I want it now.

Now, I know that this will happen and, probably, within the next few months but right at this moment those few months seem like eons. I am impatient and hate waiting. I also hate having to deal with all this day to day idiocy and, trust me, yesterday idiocy was running rampant here.

I want my vacay. I want it now. I want my time off, with pay, on a plane, in Sweden, in the sun, and happiness and joy, joy, joy. And I don't want to be here right now!!

Climbing that mountain...

2011-05-20T05:35:00.000-07:00

Some of the people we work with have co morbidity. This means that they are not only struggling to manage a mental illness but are also deep in the throws of addiction. It's a horrible sight to see when someone is intent on drinking themselves to death. Sorry to be so blunt but that's exactly what they're doing. We offer them all the possible opportunities to start a journey to their recovery. We have an addictions specialist on board. We have Peer Support staff who have "been there, done that" for them to use as mentors. We talk to them every single day about what their lives might be like if they would take that first step.

Yesterday, one of these souls came in, fell twice, was severely dehydrated and refused treatment when we called an ambulance. She stumbled back out to her waiting ride and went home to drink some more. She came in again later, still in bad shape, still refusing to let us help her. But, in good conscience, we had to do something. We actually had to force her to get to an ER by making a refusal on our part. We refused to keep seeing her here if she did not, at least, go to the ER to get checked out. Sometimes this works. This time it did. She went and was admitted to the hospital. I say sometimes this works because the mental illness side of some of these folks wants our help so badly that they will continue to come in spite of their alcohol issues. But, we are also realistic enough to know, in this case, that when she is released to go home she will drink again. It's a slow miserable death.

Alcoholism is treatable but the person has to buy into the idea that there is something inside them that is worth saving. That's the hardest part. So many of the people we see have had their self esteem whittled down throughout their lives that it is almost non-existent. They don't think of themselves as worth anything, let alone life itself. They seek out and endure horribly abusive relationships again and again. You'd be surprised at how many sick individuals are out there that prey on people they can take advantage of and become co-dependent. They get some weird kick out of breaking people down and then being a "hero" by being there to pick them up again only to start that cycle over again.

But we keep trying. It's that hope thing I wrote about previously. We keep trying and hoping and maybe, just maybe, one of them will get it and they can start to make a change.

One word that stands strong in all of us...

2011-05-17T08:42:00.000-07:00

The title to this entry is a quote from one of my program participants. He's a guy with a serious mental illness. He talks slow, shuffles along because of his medications, often has the worst hair days, wears a heavy Packer jacket - even in summer. The word he's referring to? Hope.

Today he came in to say hello and I made a comment about the blue sky and the sunshine which had been eluding us for the past week. He said, "Maybe it will warm up today." I replied, "I hope so!"

He thought for a long time, a thoughtful look in his eyes and said, "That's one word that stands strong in all of us."

I know our conversation was about the weather but, at that moment, I knew he was talking about so much more. And I have to tell you, it always give me hope to know that even these down trodden, ill, struggling individuals I work with have a strong sense of hope. Hope that there's something better. Hope that today will be a good day. Hope that someone will give them a smile or a kind hello.

We all have hope. I like that.

Still trying to make sense out of it all...

2011-05-09T19:01:00.000-07:00

So yesterday was Mothers Day here in the US. I spent the day at my sister's house playing Polish Poker with my Mom. We played two rounds. She won both. Now I'm $2.50 poorer. I think she cheats.

Today was Monday. I hit the ground running. It's one of those usual days. You know the ones. The work days that seem to run right into the next because now there is so much time between holidays and time off? Yeah, those. Today was one of those. And tomorrow will be the same. Alex and I are planning a trip. Well, we're talking about it anyway. We want to go back to Sweden this year and see his Dad but we don't know exactly when that will happen. A lot will hedge on how much we can save and what we will have to spend. The thing about going to Sweden is that when it's nice and warm and sunny there air fare costs an arm, a leg and your first born child. When it's dark and cold, you can get a real bargain. But it's really not all that much fun going in the dark months when the days are super short and you can't really see much anyway. There is hope. We're selling the house my mother used to live in and it's in her children's names. Being her child, I will get something from that sale if it ever happens. We've had some lookers but no takers yet. Not really the time to be selling a house I guess.

I've been thinking of taking up photography. No really. I got a great new camera and it takes excellent photos so I was thinking to really try to do something interesting with it. We'll see. I might go out this weekend and just take pictures to see what I get. It's a start.

I've also been thinking about making some more music. Now that I have this mac I have also have a music program to tinker around with. Maybe I'll get inspired and write another song or two. I haven't done that in a while but I was just singing here to myself and realize how much I miss having that creative track in my life. I've never done my own music before. I've written songs and sung to other people's music but never actually made my own music so this could be good. Or could be really bad too. Either way, it will be an adventure.

Oh, I had a physical last week. Everything was good except I am Vitamin D deficient which, I'm told, happens to quite a lot of women in Wisconsin. Mostly because of our lack of sun in the winter. Good to know now since my ultimate goal is to live in Sweden and they really lack sun there in the winter months. Oh, and I have to have a colonoscopy! Funny thing about that...every single person I have told has said the exact same thing - "The procedure is fine, it's the prep that's a bitch!" No kidding...every single person. I can't wait...I'm thinking of having it videotaped and uploading it on youtube.

KIDDING! Sheesh! Did you really think I would do that? Frankly, the whole idea of the thing grosses me out! And by the way, for all you men out there who complain about going to your doctor...don't even start. Seriously! By the time I'm done with all the tests I will have been prodded, propped open, probed and squished ten ways from Sunday! All you have to do is turn your damn head and cough! Not fair, I tell ya. Not fair at all!

How hard it must be...

2011-05-03T16:56:00.000-07:00

It's no secret. I work with adults with mental illness. In any given day, I see people fighting the good fight and surviving with severe and persistent mental illness. Best case scenario, I've seen people come to some degree of acceptance that they are living with a chronic, life long illness that will always need medications to control. Those people find a way to live with it and get on with life, forging relationships, having families and whatnot. The stuff we all do in our own way.

I've seen others who trod into our agency on a daily basis, consigned to a life of taking medications and seeing themselves beat down by life. They walk with their heads down, their life-spirit gone, and never regain the belief that they really are someone.

The hardest people I work with are those that are young, newly diagnosed, and defying the diagnosis at every turn. You see, with a mental health diagnosis, a trip to a psychiatrist or counselor, a prescription for psychotropic medications comes a terribly stigma placed upon them by friends, family, society as a whole, and themselves. Think about it. How many times have you said "That guy is crazy!" when someone has said or done something out of the ordinary. With the medications come the side affects. There are no psychotropic meds out there that don't offer some side affects. Some are worse than others but overall one can expect drowsiness or sleeplessness, or a foggy feeling, or intense weight gain as much as 20 - 50 pounds, hair loss, impotence. Sounds fun, doesn't it? What 29 year old male wants to feel that way? Or a 20 year old female for that matter. Oh, and there can also be drooling, blurred vision and a general apathetic attitude. Try taking a college entrance exam like that. Or interviewing for a job. Often the choice to not take medication is the difference between choosing to hear voices and "feel" relatively normal or not hear voices and "feel" like a load of useless crap. And try explaining to a girl you meet or a boy you like that you are schizophrenic. Most people hear that word and think "serial killer" or "rapist".

I try to equate mental illness with other chronic disorders, like diabetes for example. If you are diabetic, you have to take insulin or the results are horrible and can be fatal. The same is true with mental illness. But we rarely hear of a stigma attached to someone with diabetes.

I don't have a diagnosed mental illness so I can only imagine, from what I have learned over the years, how hard it must be to come to terms with having one. My heroes are those who pull through, after years of hospitalizations, jail time, evictions, and losing everyone around them to manage to create a life for themselves in spite of it all. I can only hope those young people I work with will find a way to do just that.

In the meantime, I urge you all to do some research. Contact your local National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI) and open your mind to the possibilities of what treasures each of us, even those with mental illness, have to offer.