Sunday, June 08, 2008

Breakaway - Part 4

Read from Part 1

Back in the 1970s there was a great TV show called Three's Company, about two girls and a guy sharing an apartment in Southern California. My situation wasn't exactly the same, as the other girl and her guy shared a room and I had my own.

The problem was this is not what I agreed to. I was paying half the rent. It took me weeks after I realized the guy wasn't leaving to get up the courage to bring this up to my roommates. They didn't see a problem, as the guy didn't take up much space, and besides, all the furniture was hers so she should have to pay less anyway. I still didn't think it was fair, but given the circumstances I decided I could live with it.

I talked to my dad on the phone every Sunday. One week he would call me, and the next I would call him. And every single week the first thing he said was "has that guy moved out yet?" He really, really disliked the idea of me living with them.

In the eight months we lived together, I experienced several new adventures and witnessed some behavior that, had I gone to college, might not have surprised me. Being so close to the university campus, our building was virtually a coed college dorm. Fortunately, most of the action took place in the recreation room down the hall where I couldn't hear it.

But on balance, it wasn't too bad. The gal was really smart and we had some great conversations, and debates about society and politics were my favorite. She had very liberal views, especially about sex and relationships. The guy roommate was from the South and would make us eggs with biscuits and sausage gravy every couple of weeks. He wasn't even 30 yet and had been married and divorced three times! He had been a heroin addict, but only smoked weed when I knew him (I think).

Some of my personal adventures during my time there, quite frankly, I'm ashamed of and not comfortable sharing in detail here. But what I want to tell you is that my core beliefs almost certainly saved my life.

continued

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Breakaway - Part 3

Read from Part 1

The job I had just started was in a fairly large office of an electronics company. I worked in the sales department as a secretary, and another secretary there had a friend who needed a roommate. It seemed like the perfect solution for both of us. So I entered into a shared housing situation with a virtual stranger.

There is something about a lack of fear - along with a lack of funds - that makes you do things that, in a different situation, you would never dream of doing. I guess you really just do what you have to do, but only up to the limits created by your core beliefs. Which, by the way, is why it is so important to have them.

My new roommate D and I found an apartment near the university where she was taking classes at night. It was a pretty cool place in Long Beach, on that great road called the Pacific Coast Highway. We were on the third floor (I think) and on a clear night you could see the lights of the Queen Mary. The apartment was designed for roommates, with two bedrooms on opposite sides of the unit, each with its own bathroom.

Within a week we were moving in. She had her own furniture, which was good since I had none. I somehow acquired a used mattress and box spring and slept on them on the floor.

The day we moved in the terms of our living arrangement changed, but I didn't know it at the time. D's boyfriend A helped us move, and he spent the night. The next day D asked if I minded if A stayed for a couple of weeks until he found another place. Sure, why not?

Well, he never left.

continued

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Breakaway - Part 2

Read Part 1

To my 20-year-old self, it seemed perfectly reasonable to pick up and move 2,000+ miles away. I had friends to stay with, and I had skills that would get me a job in any office in no time. I had no car and very little money. But all I remember feeling was excitement.

I figured it was best to tell my dad I had a job before I left. I knew he would worry, and I so I planned to tell him a second lie when I actually did get a job and say the first one just didn't work out. No harm done, right? Well, the problem was I told him I was going to work at a Westin Hotel (I had actually put in an application there). So the day after I left, who calls my dad's looking for me to set up an interview? The Westin Hotel of course!

My dad was a wonderful father. He gave us a lot of freedom, and fostered our independence. He rarely yelled. When he was really upset he would be devastatingly silent. At least that's how I remembered it.

Thinking back all these years later, I cringe at what I must have put him through with that move. His 20-year-old daughter flies away to live with people he has never met, so far away that the possibility of visiting was slim. But at least she has a job...NOT. When he called me on my lie, I could tell he was more disappointed than angry. And concerned, of course. And hurt. Hurting him was the worst feeling in the world.

Within a couple of weeks I had a job. Finding a job wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, and it was a three-bus-ride commute! I was surprised. I had assumed that all big cities had the kind of transportation system that Chicago had. Boy was I wrong on that!

And shortly thereafter my friends asked me to move out. I don't remember exactly why the welcome mat was pulled out from under me so suddenly, but they broke up not too long after that.

So I had a job but now needed a new place to live.

continued

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Breakaway

The young people in my life are growing up. I see them hit those milestones like driving, first jobs, graduation, moving out...and I remember what it was like to be taking those first big steps on my own. It was exciting to say the least, but sometimes daunting and just a little bit scary.

We all have breakway moments, when we know it is time to take one of the bigger big steps. We may have no idea what that step should be, but we just know we have to take one. It's like a growth spurt. You don't recognize it when it is first starting, but soon you know that you will just bust out of your skin if you don't make a move.

By the time I was 20, I had moved out and back in with my dad twice. The first time doesn't really count as a breakaway...I lived with my grandmother for a while after my grandfather died. I'm not sure the second time exactly counts either, because it was known to be a temporary situation.

I agreed to sublet my boss's downtown studio apartment. He wanted to move to California to live with his girlfriend, but couldn't wait the three more months he had on his lease (his own breakaway). I paid half the rent for his furnished place, and then at the end of the lease I arranged for the moving of his furniture and then moved back home. I was broke a lot, and more than once had to walk almost an hour to get from work to the apartment because I lacked even the dollar for the bus. But it was a whole summer living in downtown Chicago, so who cared?

My former boss and I kept in touch, and when I expressed my desire to do something new with my life, he encouraged me to come out for a visit to stay with him and his girlfriend for a while. One conversation led to another, and I decided to make the move to California. I did some long-distance job hunting and had some good leads, but had no job lined up when I said goodbye to the life I had known, bought a one-way ticket and stepped on that plane.

My California adventure started with a lie I would soon regret.

continued

Monday, May 26, 2008

The Kid

In the movie The Kid Bruce Willis plays Russ, a successful consultant who is about to turn 40 years old. He makes a lot of money, but is still single, has almost no friends, and doesn't want anything to do with his family, especially his father. He doesn't remember his childhood, and his left eye twitches when he is stressed.

One day Russ finds (or maybe hallucinates) a kid in his house who he soon realizes is himself from the past...about to turn 8 years old. The Kid's name is Rusty and he is chubby, has a bad haircut and talks funny. When Russ discovers that other people can actually see Rusty, he tries to figure out why The Kid is there.

At first Russ thinks it is happening so he can give Rusty advice so Rusty won't be such a "pathetic dweeb". Well, Rusty isn't so anxious to accept advice from his almost-40 self, because he sees Russ as a "dog-less, chick-less, jerk with a twitch." Each thinks the other is a loser.

In the end, they can't change the past. But they do help each other. Russ teaches Rusty to stand up for himself, and Rusty helps Russ remember and understand a horrible, life-changing event, the day when that twitch first appeared.

This story hit home for me big time. Eight was an awful age for me, with a big horrible life-changing event.


What would she say to me if my eight-year-old self saw me right now? And what would I say to her about how I got to be the me I am today? Well, it doesn't matter because the past is past. All any of us can do is move forward and make the changes we want to make in our own lives.

Although I might tell her that she won't always be a pathetic dweeb with a bad haircut, buck teeth and ugly glasses. Well, at least the hair and glasses have changed.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Thoughts about thoughts

Change your thoughts and you change your world.
(Norman Vincent Peale, the author of The Power of Positive Thinking)

Do you believe that is true? I do. But it is not easy to change one's thoughts. We get used to how we think about things and those thoughts almost become automatic. But consider what your days would be like if you adopted even one of these Peale quotes as part of your personal philosophy:

Believe in yourself! Have faith in your abilities! Without a humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers you cannot be successful or happy.

Do not be awe struck by other people and try to copy them. Nobody can be you as efficiently as you can.

Formulate and stamp indelibly on your mind a mental picture of yourself as succeeding. Hold this picture tenaciously. Never permit it to fade. Your mind will seek to develop the picture...Do not build up obstacles in your imagination.

Think enthusiastically about everything; but especially about your job. If you do, you'll put a touch of glory in your life. If you love your job with enthusiasm, you'll shake it to pieces. You'll love it into greatness.


Try it!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

The fabulous forties

"I'm gonna be 40, and it's freaking me out."

I overheard this a few months ago from a woman customer at the counter of a clothing store. The woman behind the counter told her customer not to worry, that the forties are the "best time of your life". Not surprisingly, the customer reacted with scepticism! I couldn't help myself...I walked up behind the woman and whispered "in your forties you finally stop caring about what other people think of you."

It was the thought that came into my head at the moment, but that's not exactly what I meant. Of course I care what people think about me! I still want people to like me. I want to make a good impression with my work, my attitudes and my looks (by making the most of what I have). I still want men to think I'm pretty. But I have reached a point in my life where I finally know that what other people think about me does not define me.

If I let what other people think about me define me, I would be prudish, closed-minded, judgmental, fat, lazy and lacking in self-control. I have been called some of those things to my face...quite recently in fact.

What I am is human, with desires that sometimes clash with my beliefs. I sometimes desire the wrong thing at the wrong time, or desire the right thing at the wrong time (there seems to be no right time to desire the wrong thing). Some of my beliefs have been seriously challenged lately, which is a good thing. If your beliefs cannot stand up to a challenge, they might not be worth believing in.

I don't believe everything I did 20 years ago, or 10 years ago, or even a few years ago. Sometimes I think I know what is best for me and the people I love, and then I see or experience something that challenges that belief. But I have reached an age and a state of being that lets me consider all sides of a situation without completely doubting who I am and how I live my life.

Perhaps the forties, for those of us who are fortunate to live this long, are a time for truly getting to know yourself. Heck, I'm almost 48, and I would have to live to 96 to consider this time in my life "middle-age"! But maybe there is just no way to know yourself until you've had these many years of experience. I don't know.

I just know that I love my life right now. And even though there are things I want that I know I can have but would not be good for me...I know I am loved. I am deeply and sincerely loved. By God and by the people in my life who truly matter.

It is a fabulous time indeed.

What is it like for a guy...

...when a big chick flick is about to come out?

According to John Kass of the Chicago Tribune, it is terrifying. He wishes to spare men the agony of being dragged by their girlfriends or wives to see a certain movie that opens in two weeks.

Click here for the full column and your free "Kass SATC Absolvo Carta".

Thank you for your service to mankind, Mr. Kass.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

If I believed in signs...

...this might just be one:


It's hard to see in this picture, but that's a DOUBLE rainbow. I've never seen such a thing in my entire life. And what was I doing when this possible sign occurred? I was hoping for some way to know I was doing the right thing.

You see, I am on a path that started long ago, the catalyst of which is a circumstance that I just found out no longer exists! So do I go through with it? Do I take the easy road, which in a way means staying stuck? Is the path I am on leading me toward something or away from something? Or both?

Or is this double rainbow just a spectrum of light from the setting sun on a rainy evening?

Sometimes decisions are forced on you, and sometimes you are blessed with too many options. With all the world is going through today, to whine that I don't know what to do because I can do anything I want seems the height of self-centeredness.

But then I saw this. And it made me feel like somebody was trying to tell me something. I am doing the right thing. I need to keep going on this path.

Memory lane - Part IV

Read from Part 1

Somewhere (almost 30 years) deep in a landfill is a box of letters. Well, I doubt there is much left of them after all this time. This was about a year's worth of correspondence from the boyfriend of my senior year in high school.

Those were the days before email and before unlimited long distance calling plans. He was in college over 400 miles away most of that year. When he wasn't, he was only 300 miles away at home. It was a lovely time in my life, and I loved our correspondence - long, newsy, sweet letters, about one for each week. Plus cards for special occasions.

I treasured those, so much so that I pulled them out to read daily for months after he broke up with me. Then I realized I had to let go. I knew I was in danger of never recovering from that breakup unless those letters were gone. It took a couple of attempts before I could finally let the garbage truck take them away.

Fast-forward to a few weeks ago, when I started packing for my move. I started in what I knew would be the the most difficult spot - a little oriental cabinet where the last of the Daniel memorabilia had resided undisturbed since my last move. It was finally time to say goodbye to most of that.

First, I read through every sympathy card. Many tears, a few laughs and a couple of who is that?s later and I was done. The only thing left from that pile is a note from my brother, a man of few words who wrote that tears "wash the soul clean and make our hearts open to life's joy". I wouldn't part with that piece of paper ever.

But then there were the letters...my letters to Daniel during our friendship and courtship, and his to me. Not a whole lot of them, as he was not much of a writer so I didn't write much either. Re-reading my letters to him was like looking at a history book of me - my feelings, my hopes, my busy days - in my own hand. The fact that he used the back of one to calculate how much outside lighting would cost to run for an hour (37 cents) doesn't make me think he didn't treasure that letter. He kept it, didn't he?

But it is time to say goodbye to those letters as well. He's been gone almost as long as we were married. And moving on is what this year seems to be all about for me.

My mother didn't have many opportunities to give me advice. One thing I clearly remember her telling me is to be very careful what I put in a letter, because you never know where it will end up. That was good advice. But I am so glad I never let her words prevent me from expressing my true feelings on the page to the people I loved. For me, writing is still sometimes easier than verbal expression.

My memories of Daniel are fading, and that is alright. We can't live in our memories, even the good ones. We have to live in the present. And when we do, today becomes a memory for tomorrow.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Memory lane - Part III

Read from Part I

I have been promising my hair stylist that I would create a "Gallery of Hair" for her, and I want to do it before I move out of state. So here it is:

Ladies, if you're thinking that once you grow up you will finally stop stressing about your hair, forget about it. Even now, at the ripe old age of 47, I'm thinking of growing it long again. Or getting a natural salt-n-peppa buzz cut (my friend Lisa and my other friend Lisa would kill me).

Depends on how I'm feeling tomorrow.

continued

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Memory lane - Part II

Read Part I

I have only been hospitalized twice in my life. First was being born, then when I had my tonsils removed at age six. A lot has changed since then.

Prices, for one thing. My mother's hospital stay for my birth cost $26 per day. The total for four days including the operating room, anesthesia and drugs - $151.92.

For my tonsils surgery six years later, the doctor charged $150 and the hospital (with lab, x-rays, drugs and the room) charged $134. Oh, plus $35 for anethesia.

And keeping patient records was a little different than today. My first few months of doctor visits were recorded on one index card by hand. The receipts were hand-written also, but the doctor bills were typed. And that four-day hospital stay when I was born...that is unheard of today as insurance companies want you out as quickly as possible.

It is an interesting experience to hold these things in my hands.

continued

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Memory lane - Part I

I used to have this recurring dream, that I'm back in high school (at my present age) because I never really graduated. Well, I have in my hands (not really in my hands because I wouldn't be able to type) my high school diploma. Now they can't make me go back!

As I keep going through my things to get rid of stuff that I refuse to move even one more time, I'm scanning pictures and papers that I want to keep and tossing the originals. Lots of dust, lots of laughs, lots of tears, lots of closure coming my way. And a lot of trivial crap that nobody cares about.

Like this - according to my grade school report cards...

- I was unable to tie my shoes by the end of kindergarten, but I could recognize what color they were.
- I had no special abilities noted from 1966 to 1968 (bummer).
- I was a "back captain" (what??), a "paper" monitor (news, construction, toilet? not sure), and in charge of the Halloween Talent Show in 1970.
- I was an "office girl" in 1974. Wow...I found my career at age 14.
- And last, but not least, my very favorite encouraging comment from a teacher on a report card...

Seems my fate was sealed decades ago. Who knew?

Tune in tomorrow...that's when I go through my medical records!

continued

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Photo shoppe

After taking a two-hour nap this afternoon, I woke up with a start and realized I had a really cool project I could work on. I am moving in a couple of months (don't know where...and that's a story for another post), and I am still decades behind in my scrapbooking. I'll never catch up, and I don't want to move this huge box of photos AGAIN.

So I spent the evening organizing, scanning, and tossing. I've backed them up. Now I can share a couple of the gems:

As a bridesmaid in 1980. My favorite hairstyle, but not my favorite dress.

My favorite Halloween costume. I actually travelled on a Chicago city bus wearing this!

My favorite cats-eye glasses. And my least favorite haircut ever.

Only a few thousand more pictures to go.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Is a mistake still a mistake...

...when you take away the consequences?

At a recent public appearance, one of our presidential candidates was in a "town hall" setting when he was asked about abortion after speaking about sex education in schools:

“Look, I got two daughters — 9 years old and 6 years old,” he said. “I am going to teach them first about values and morals, but if they make a mistake, I don’t want them punished with a baby. I don’t want them punished with an STD at age 16, so it doesn’t make sense to not give them information.”

The firestorm this caused was because of the "punished with a baby" part of the quote. But to me, the key phrase is "...if they make a mistake, I don't want them punished..."

He seems to be saying that he wants all negative consequences of his children's possible future actions removed. But perhaps we have more unwanted pregnancies and sexually-transmitted diseases today than ever before because we keep trying to remove those consequences. My point is not about sex, it is about personal responsibility.

Let me illustrate by using that part of his quote in a different situation:

I will teach my kids that cheating is wrong, but if they make a mistake and cheat on a test I don't want them punished...

Or how about this:

I will teach my kids that stealing is wrong, but if they make a mistake and rob a bank I don't want them punished...

Or maybe:

I will tell my kids not to drive drunk, but if they make a mistake and kill someone, I don't want them punished...

How do you teach your children that something is wrong if their mistake has no negative consequences? If there are no consequences, why is it a mistake?

Think about how many of the problems in our society would be solved within a single generation if, starting today, we each took full responsibility for our own actions and taught our children to do the same.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Risky business - Part 4

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

There are risks that you can do something to avoid, and there are some that you just can't foresee no matter how wild your imagination.

Just ask the man who was enjoying the day on his boat one minute, and the next minute lost his wife to a leaping stingray. Or the two women in the back seat of a car who lost their daughters when a maintenance scaffold fell 43 floors onto them in the front seat of the car. They were just going about their lives, and people they loved were gone in an instant because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It wouldn't be smart to ignore obvious risks, nor would life be much fun if we were always scared of what we can't see around the corner (or in the sky). If the risks of life were all you thought about you would never actually do anything.

As you might have guessed, I'm writing about this because I am trying to convince myself. Even at my age, I still tend to let fear prevent me from doing things I want to or even feel called to do. I have dreams that remain secret for fear of ridicule, relationships that remain unexplored for fear of being hurt, and words that remain unspoken for fear of conflict.

We'll all die someday, somewhere, from something. And in that regard I have three wishes. One, that I don't die doing something really stupid and end up (in)famous for it. Two, that I have made an impact on the world around me that is much more positive than negative. And three, that I have, more often than not, overcome my fear and lived my days to the fullest.

Every day, I need to remind myself that God will work all things out for good, because that is what He has promised. And that is the ultimate risk strategy for this life.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Risky business - Part 3

Read Part 1 and Part 2

When analyzing project risks, we identify the worst thing that could happen, then the second worst thing, then a few more. We give each risk a number to indicate it's severity, then we multiply it by the probability to come up with a rating. And that rating determines how much effort we put into either avoiding the risk, taking steps to minimize the impact or coming up with an alternative plan.

When the probability and severity are both low, we usually just accept the risk because even if it happens, it won't be too bad. When the probability is low, but the severity is high, we give that more thought and planning. And you can bet that if the probability and severity are both high we are really going to have a good backup plan.

That's all the project team can really do, and it works fine most of the time. But then there are those times that something happens that nobody could have possibly foreseen. And all you can do at that point is deal with it.

And that's what we have to do in real life, too.

We make our plans and manage the risks and live our lives. Every day we make choices, thinking we know where those choices will take us. But if we are wise, we also know that anything can happen, even the very worst thing.

And it can happen in a moment.

continued

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Risky business - Part 2

Read Part 1

As a project manager, part of my job is to manage risks. A risk is something that could happen. Well, anything could happen, right? What the project team does is identify the things that could go wrong, estimate out how likely they are and what the impact would be they did happen. Then we make an alternative plan to have in place if a risk does happen.

Let's say the project is to move a business from one location to another. Your current lease expires on a set date and you must vacate the property by that date. Your new location is being constructed, and the builder says it will be done on time. But what if it isn't? What's Plan B...Plan C...Plan D? That's risk management.

People like "Adventurer" Steve Fossett did a lot of risk management. When preparing for a round-the-world solo balloon flight, you sure better know where you can land if you have technical trouble or suddenly get sick! And yet it is possible that Fossett died because what he was doing that day was not as risky as his other adventures, so he may not have thoroughly planned for the potential risks.

Do you consider yourself a risk taker? Sure you get up in the morning and face the dangers of cars and icy roads and sidewalks, probably without even thinking about it much...buckle your seatbelt, drive more slowly than normal, wear the right kind of shoes. But beyond that...are there things you need to do or want to do, but you don't do them because of what could go wrong? Are there things in your past that you didn't do because of potential dangers that never came to pass? Are you letting fear of the risks of life keep you from really living life?

The first step to getting over that fear is to ask yourself one question - what is the worst thing that could happen?

(continued)

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Risky business

"Adventurer" Steve Fossett has been declared dead five months after he disappeared. Read all about him here.

This was man who risked life and limb in a variety of ways his entire life. Yet he died not on one of his adventures, but on a pleasure flight. Reminds me of General George S. Patton, who served in both World Wars but died as the result of a car accident while on a hunting trip.

Living is a risky business. It's nine o'clock in the morning, and already I have risked my life in several ways. I took a shower - and could have slipped and cracked my head open! I took the elevator downstairs, drove to get breakfast, drove back home and took the elevator up again - an adventure fraught with danger from malfunctioning equipment and bad drivers! Even my breakfast was risky - I could have choked to death on my bagel!

Sounds sort of silly, doesn't it? The likelihood that the elevator cable would break and fall 11 stories at the exact time that I was on it was extremely low, but it could have happened.

So how does a person get out of bed and face the day when there is so much to fear out there? By identifying risks, taking steps avoid them, and knowing how to lessen their impact if they do happen.

It's simple, and you do it every day without even realizing it.

(continued)

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Golden versus tarnished

I don't watch much TV these days. I do catch a few shows on internet replay, and I can't avoid some "previews" on the advertising panels of some of my favorite web sites. And I tend to watch TV when I travel for business, like I am right now.

Overall, I just can't help but think that the best days of television programming is behind us.

So much of what is on TV these days shows bad behavior in a supposedly good light. One of the previews I mentioned is a woman getting her pantyhose ripped off while she leans back on her executive desk. It looks like this is something she wants, but the imagery purposely hints at rape. Is that really supposed to be sexy?

Among my Christmas gifts was the first season of Golden Girls on DVD, which I finished this past weekend. Sure, there is some sexual innuendo, but the show is primarily about friendship. And women depending on each other.

Maybe that's what that other show is about too. I don't know. Just seems like Dorothy, Rose, Blanche and Sophia had a lot more respect for themselves.