Open Letter to Young Girl Who's Journal I Found Strewn About the Park This Morning

Dear Young Person:

I'm sorry some mean bully-type person found your journal.

I'm sorry they chased you around with it and read it out loud.

I'm sorry you were humiliated, watching your innermost thoughts and drawings be ripped out and
thrown into the wind.

I'm sorry that you feel like your life is over and you can never go back to school.

I know it feels like nothing is secret or safe, but it will be again, someday.

I know it doesn't help now, but eventually everyone will forget that you like Kyle.

I know it hurts, but eventually you will not think of it again until one day when you are 30, and you find some little girl's journal in the park and you remember how it felt.

If it makes you feel better, in the 5th grade, the Morin twins (Megan and Becky) tricked me on the playground; one of them picked me up over their shoulder and the other pulled my skirt over my head.

It is important that you "chin up" about this and know that you are a strong person. You must be; only strong people keep journals. Weak people just remember fun times and reminisce about them well into their adulthood, living in the past.

Most of those bullies will peak in highschool, and you will peak much later, for much longer.

Big picture, here, young person. In the long run, this will be a blip that you remember with some hurt, but you cannot let it define you or change who you are right now. Not all people are as horrible as elementary school kids.

Whatever they did to you, they did because they wanted to feel better about themselves by pushing you down; only you can let them make you feel bad. Be stronger than they.

Start a new journal; eviscerate them. Maybe keep it at home. Only you need to know about it.

Do not seek public revenge; that only makes you stoop to their level. Also, the likelihood that you will get in trouble rather than them is good.


Today's song of the day is for you. Actually, you get a playlist, little girl. You go.

PS: The butterfly song at the end might make you cry. It's good for you :)

Brew Me Up Some Twinings Tea...Do I have Twinings Tea? I can't find it in my sea of tea...

I begin today's Blog with the following side note:  Yesterday I cleared off all the pictures on my camera's card, in order to take more today.  I took a few this morning for this blog post.  Here I sit at 8:00am, and whlist dumping my photos onto my computer, I see the shocking number:  83.  How did this happen?  How did I just take 83 shots in the last half hour?  Will I delete the ones that I think aren't great?  Will I?  This is today's blog.

I have long had this issue, for which I take more than a little cajoling, that I do not use everything I buy when it comes to food.  I have this mentality of, "I need to have a little left in case there is a nuclear holocaust or emergency," or "I love this, and it's hard to find, so I will not finish it; then one day, when I REALLY need this taste, it will be here."  Therefore, I have cans of fruit and veggies from 2004, I have 8 containers of honey, approximately 1 Tbs each, and I have this enclosed photo, an entire shelf full of tea.  OK, OK, a shelf and a half.

The tea is really interesting, because today I decided to make a cup.  This was my thought process:

-Oooh, I love black currant.  But I got that in Ireland, and it's so hard to find.
-Oh! My tea from Austria with Elderberry (holunder!  Something that was life changing and mind boggling to me, but likely means nothing to you)!  But it's loose tea, and I don't know where my filter bags are.
-Hm.. This tea has never been opened.  Organic Peach Detox...what is that?  Can I drink it with toast?  Probably not; I bet it's a fasting tea.
-Green tea...yech.  Sick of it. What's all the hype again?
-I need to buy more Ginger Lemon tea; that's my favorite, and I only have 2 bags left.  NO. NO MORE TEA.  You must drink this entire shelf and a half of tea before more tea comes in to this house!
-My fancy, expensive tea from Mackinac Island...*sigh*.  Same problem of no filter bags.
-Jason Winter's Tea.  An herbal blend that only gets stronger, even after removed.  I don't like it.  But it reminds me of my fiance, who drank it as part of a therapy before he died.  It would be wrong to throw it away.  I wonder if anyone who has cancer would want it?  (seriously, this is how I think...maybe I should have a garage sale for tea?  Surely is an absurd idea...)
-Fine.  Peach it is. Boring old peach.

So as I sit here drinking my peach tea and listening to the chickadees out on my patio thrash about in my pile of birdseed, I can't help but think that this is a problem.  I'm not a hoarder or anything, but when it comes to food, I make all these excuses not to enjoy it all, and it inevitably goes bad, so I've missed out anyway.  The tea is just one of many indicators.

Another example is that one day I was having a particularly hard day (for those avid readers of my blog, I refer you to the horrid day at the spa back in December of 2009).  It was three days after my abomination of a hair cut and style (from a near GRADUATE, I remind you), and I was having a tough day at work (as tough as retail can get...).  My friends located Bulmers, an Irish hard cider that I drank in Ireland with my newfound friends and locals, and adored.  In the U.S. it's called "Magners".  They drove to Minneapolis and brought me a six pack at work.  My friend, Crystal, knowing me too well, also bought me a single bottle, which she knew I would keep on my shelf and never drink.  She is so wise.  That bottle is still on my shelf...as well as one in the fridge, which I had every intention of drinking on St. Patrick's Day, but instead sat at O'garas drinking Jamie-Gingers that tasted more like Jamie-Soda Waters.  Oooh! I may have a photo of that too!

Not a great picture, but all the good ones have me and other people, and I don't want to assume it's ok to use them.  I stole my friend's camera and tried to make a kissy face, but started laughing.  I know, so unlike me, right?  Hey! Back to the post, lady!

So I write now to admit this issue, and to address it in the following manner:

-I vow to get rid of any tea I don't find particularly tasty, even though I will feel SO wasteful to throw away tea.  Don't ask me why.
-I vow to get "smart" selection of tea of no more than half of ONE shelf, such as Earl Grey, etc.
-I vow to drink it, not to use it as decoration
-I vow that if I have one bag left, I and do NOT drink it, I will put it in a tin, where no more than one bag of any flavor will reside.
-I vow to make LOTS of iced tea on my patio in the next few weeks and use up whatever I can.

Here's the rub.  If I just keep this stuff in the hopes that one day I will really want it, when I finally eat or drink it, it will be stale and disappointing.  You can't keep Manna, can you?  It all goes bad.  Even tea.  *sigh*

Today's Song of the day is "Out in the Country" by Kristen Hall.  For lots of reasons, one of which being the line in which she sings, "brew me up some twinings tea...tell me that you love me..."

Undercover Knitters Make Me Smile

I came across this article, and it gave me a chuckle.  Rogue knitters are ensconcing the city's trees and parks in knit scarves.  I will let you read for yourself.

http://www.metro.co.uk/weird/816969-police-hunt-the-midnight-knitter-wool-graffiti-bandit

Ca-ve Thoughts

I have had the same song in my head for 3 days. It's called The Cave, by Mumford and Sons. I heard it on my way to work the other day, and sat in the car to let it finish (thank you, 89.3 the current, a part of Minnesota Public Radio :P). The mandolin is amazing. I gotta have more mandolin.

Two lines from this song keep ringing in my head. Just stuck in there, on repeat, and I love it. How can a song capture so many thoughts with one line? "Let me to the truth which will refresh my broken mind..." What a great line! Their show here in the cities is at least 2 weeks away, and it's been sold out forever. I'm sure I'm taking the song completely out of context, but I just keep hearing, "I need freedom now, and I need to know how, to live my life as it's meant to be..."

The other thought that comes to my mind is a memory from Ireland. In Doolin, we took a cave tour. The longest stalactite in the Northern Hemisphere (or was is stalagmite...which one hangs from the ceiling? Stalactite)...We had to walk down almost a mile of stairs, and then walk up them. When we came out, the sun burning our eyes, and our lungs burning from the climb, Carolyn said, "Oh, I still have ca-vay on my pants." So when I hear this song, I think of ca-vay, and the climb out of it. And I gotta have more mandolin!

Here are a couple of pics of us and the ca-vay day. We all still joke it was the worst 13.50 Euro we spent. But we helped the economy in Doolin. Yay. :)

So there it is. The mulling of my mind over the last few days. Spring has sprung, and perhaps we are all coming out of our caves. Maybe we'll come out walking on our hands, and see the world hanging upside down. Maybe we're all backwards :)


Today's song of the day should be no surprise. The video link is below, as well as others. I'm a fan. Way to go, Mumford :)

And, we now know (almost a year later) that the banjo/mandolin debate is finished, and tied. He plays the Banjolin. Surprised you didn't know that. :)

Everything is Never As it Seems....

As many of you know, I have taken over leadership for the food section of my retail store. This is not all that exciting, but it is interesting. It's like a mini puzzle every day, creating spaces for new stuff, keeping everything else in order. It can be mundane (ie stocking), and the mind can drift, but I can't complain.

Yesterday I was stocking the Twizzlers Cherry Twists, when a man walked up to me. I greeted him as per usual; "Good morning. How are you?" I have to stop doing that, asking how are you (although if I didn't do that, I might miss out on oddly entertaining stories of outdated frat-boy-try, forgive the gummi word). He began telling me about the odd things in his day. People cutting him off, parked strangely, odd vibes from people all over the city, and he's driving a new car! It is an externally unknown fact about Minnesotans, that they cannot drive in rain or sun. They can handle snow just fine, but give them rain and the accidents are exponential on those days, and they all make stupid mistakes. It should be a case study for some doctorate student, because it happens every time. The alternative oddity is the sun. Everywhere I have ever been, sun makes people roll down their windows and drive faster, crank the music, have general merriment. But in Minnesota, drivers consistently keep their windows up, and slowwww dowwwnnnn. It's like hitting the power button on some electronic device, and listening to it wind down. I don't know where this thought process comes from, other than perhaps they are hoping if they trap all the air and let the sun stream in they will thaw, and they don't want to drive out of the sun? I have no idea, but I just want to "go baby go" when the sun comes out, and I always get stuck behind some frigid Minnesota-sicle. But I digress.

I listened to this man's story, actually interested (a trait I no doubt learned from my father). Since I was listening, he continued in sporadic, seemingly random statements, all equally entertaining. I will sum up for you in flowing language what I remember from this conversation.

"I haven't had a day this odd since I returned from the service in 1970. I got back, and picked up my buddy in my new 65 Lincoln (I think), and we went out on the town. First we went to get gas, and there was a woman in the lot trying to change a tire. Well I walked right up there and said, 'Hey darlin', why don't you let a real man do that?' Well she got up and chased me around the car, saying she was a real man and she didn't need me to do it. I didn't know what got into the lady. Then I look and see my friend watching me, laughing, and he's spilling gas all over my new car! So then he asks me where I want to go. I told him last time I came home from the war I grabbed my gal and we went out to this diner, so we went there. I walked in and it was like Heaven, all the girls over here, and all the guys over there. I hadn't ever seen anything like it, girls with girls and guys with guys. Some guy came up and put his hands on my shoulders, I told him 'that's dessert, and it's for the ladies!' Then he blew in my ear, and I had to break a bottle on the bar and point it at them to get out of there. I'd tell you the rest but you'd get jealous."

I laughed and said, "probably" more out of confusion, I think, but I really was enjoying the story. I realized though it didn't look like I was working so I asked him if I could help him find something. We started the walk back to the rear of the store while he continued.

"I got pulled over that day too, by a cop that I KNEW, even. He pulled me over on Arcade and asked me by my name if I knew the speed limit. I said 55, it was Arcade. While I was gone it switched to 30. I didn't know. Then he told me not to smoke anywhere near my car because it smelled like gas."

"How old were you?" I asked. It was his second tour, both times from the draft, and he was 23? I was unclear if he was drafted the second time at 22, or if he returned at 22. Not important. I thought that was quite young, but he assured me that was an "Old timer" in war years. Every few minutes he'd say, "wow, I haven't had a day like this since 1970, that's 40 years. Oh my gosh, that's 40 years!!!" It was funny to me, but I kept saying, "Stop saying it, it won't be so bad.!" He was fascinating. He used to be a talent scout for the Kansas City Royals, and the Mets. I really enjoyed our conversation. Incidentally, he came in for bird food, because he likes to see the deer come up with their fawns and eat. I thought that was nice, if not a little ironic, considering all I had just heard about him.

I started thinking about veterans, the wars. How different are things when they come home, and see for what they were really fighting and protecting? How much has this country changed since 2001, and what do our troops see when they come home that is so different? I work with at least 2 soldiers, both who did tours in Iraq. Things come out in little ways, like, "oh, we had that energy drink in Iraq. It's the desert, you drink what you can..." or "I woke up today, and there was 140 degree difference between here and Iraq. Do I miss the desert?" I find it interesting, but I wonder if it is like when I take an international trip and things remind me of it. If it is like that, it has to have so many more levels.

Anyway, that is my story. He has a friend who's son is a producer, says it should be a movie, or at least a scene. I'm glad I got the interest in people's story trait from my father.

Today's Song of the Day is

Fireflies by Owl City (a local group)

My Little Phenomenons...

Yesterday was a good day. It had little phenomenons in it. Wednesday is kind of my Monday, because I am off on Tuesdays...nevermind. Usually I am groggy and everything goes wrong on Wednesdays. I woke up, had a lovely breakfast with a friend I hadn't seen in a while, and went to Bath and Body works to pick up my splurge of "Twilight Woods" (clarification: this is not because I am a raging Twi-hard, this is because it smells AMAZING.) It was funny, b/c I had lent her the last 3 of my Twilight books, and she gave them back at breakfast. Then I found a random book in my car, and it was the first Twilight book, and then I had the stuff. I repeat, I am not a raging Twi-hard.

I then went to work and worked 2 hours, caught up on things, and had not much left to do (besides, they were having a hard time affording me), so I left and went to the gym. I put on my swimsuit and went to the pool, marveling that the scale said I was another 2lbs lighter (liar), and stepped in with one foot, when I realized I hadn't showered. I went back in, hosed off, came out, got in (everyone caught up now? Good). The pool was active, but not crowded, and then I realized I was the only female. In a pool that usually accommodates seniors, who I am comfortable with, 3 of these guys were young, upwardly mobile previous frat boys. Crap. So I did my thing. Whatever. Then 2 more came and sat there, watching everything. After about 3 minutes, I thought maybe if I vacated my lane they wouldn't watch. Yay! They just wanted a lane to themselves...the open lane wasn't good enough or something. So whatever, I went to the open lane, which was shared by 2 men; one in his early 40s, and one power walking 72 year old that just had back surgery. This would not be anything of note, except that 40's guy was the biggest splasher in the world. Both legs out of the water, arms hitting the water like a fat kid doing a canon ball, constantly spraying all of us in the mouth and eyes. One guy, as he was getting out, said, "please tell me I don't look like that." No. You look like the guy who wears skin colored shorts, bordering on Speedos, and likes to walk around in them (on the inside). I have issues with skin colored clothes.

Anyway, when things started getting even more crowded (with men), I stood in the corner and did yoga twists and stretches, treading water and doing pullups. 72 year old power walker (he's really fast...I can't keep up with him) mentioned I wouldn't get anywhere standing still. I acknowledged my self consciousness about being in the pool with lots of people, and especially men. He was not helpful. "Of course we look. We're old, not dead. Doesn't mean anything." Great.

So I left the pool eventually, proud I stayed my half hour, showered and went home. Captain awesome had some tailoring he wanted done, so I took some things to the mall for him, and went to Old Navy while I waited. I wanted some new Sweetheart Jeans, and they were on sale. I tried on the size smaller, with no hope whatsoever, and they fit! Really comfortably, but I could see my muffin top a little more, so I bought the same size I had. I figured I could buy one pair now, and when I was truly the next size down, I could get more. I found some tops, too, by some miracle, and left feeling pretty good.

By this time it was almost 4, and I hadn't eaten since 8:30. I was feeling really hungry. In a mall, what are my choices...anyone? I walked past the dairy queen with the karmelcorn, and THROUGH the entire food court, up to each vendor. And I didn't buy a thing. I was AMAZED at my will. I went to Barnes and Noble (yes, THAT Barnes and Noble) and contemplated the ease of soup (not much). I looked at all their pastries and was able to get out with just buying a water. I was on cloud nine. The lady offered me a fresh oatmeal cookie, and I said, "you know, I do want one, but I am so proud that I was able to walk past that cabinet." She said she understood and wouldn't suggest screw ups for me. Nice girl :)

I went home, noshed some almonds, went out with Captain Awesome to run errands, and hit my staff meeting at 8. And I had energy for it!!! And, I skipped the cake that was brought in. I rocked yesterday. Let's see if I can do this today too :)

Today's song of the day is the Hamster Dance. C'mon. Do it with me!

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/Hamster+Dance/RrUj0

What's That Gym? Time to Go See You? Snooze button?

So I haven't written in a while. This has come to my attention by various readers of my blog, some of whom I did not know exist. While I have been busy and falling into new routines, I still love to write, and miss telling you stupid stories about what I am up to. Not that it's all about me...but it is in here, actually.

So this week I started swimming again. I love to swim. To feel light and airy, to watch the waves break before you, to move along silently while under the water everything is moving. I used to swim all the time. Yesterday during my laps I remembered the summer I learned how to swim at Interlochen Arts Camp, under the tutelage of Twink, a lovely woman that is no longer with us. At Interlochen there were 2 places to swim. Safe in the shallow area and out past the buoys, where I was certain life was terrifying. You had to take a 15 minute swim test just to go out past the line of buoys. In my 5 year old head it was another world. If I have a regret about this, it is that I never, not once, took the 15 minute swim test to see if I could do it (to be fair, I thought if I tread water for 15 minutes, I would be too tired to swim back in, and I would drown). But I digress. One day, Twink took us all out to the raft to test our skills in swimming. We had to jump off the raft and swim about 8 feet to her, waiting with her arms open to catch us. I was the last one in. I climbed off the raft backwards, and turned around in the water. I ducked underwater and swam to Twink, looking for her suit in the water. What I actually saw was murky water with algae growing from the bottom, but I remember so clearly in my mind how it looked like an aquarium; coral and tropical fish, sunlight cutting through all the clear blue water to highlight an anemone. I will never know why I remember it that way, but I do. Anyway, due to the murky water, I couldn't make out Twink's form, until I ran into her bosom, floating out halfway of the suit, which DID look like an aquarium. She was so proud of me, and I was so proud of myself, but that was the last time I was out that deep in that lake.

These thoughts came to me yesterday as I was swimming the length of the pool at the gym, using the breast stroke and chasing the ripple in front of me. It was so Zen to make the ripple, see the ripple, chase the ripple. I just focused on that, and I never needed a break.

My first return trip to the pool was not so lovely. Tuesday I decided that I was going to go to the pool, no excuses. I packed a gym bag and put my suit on under my clothes so there would be no drawn out preparation that could deter me. Funny how something like this can make it feel like junior high all over again. I checked in and took look at the pool; full. Ugh! I will still do this, it may be less busy by the time I get out, I told myself. If I walk out now, everyone on the ellipticals will see that I checked in and walked out. I walked into the locker room and didn't know where to sit. I chose a place and took off my shoes, socks and pants. Then I sat down and stared into space as the motivation conversation began in my head like the angel and devil that sit on your shoulders (you know the ones): oh no. I didn't shave. I can't go in the pool. And my skin is so dry, what is chlorine going to do to my skin? I can't do this. I don't have a swim cap, my hair is going to turn green. I should really go. Then the other side started to state its case: You're already here. Your suit is on. No one will notice your legs. You will feel so much better when you are done. You love the water. You're going snorkeling in 17 days, you really need to be able to stay in the water. You'll never be ready if you don't take the first step... on and on they went while I sat in my shirt and stared off to the right. After about 7 minutes of this, I looked up and saw the same look on the face of the woman sitting across from me, clearly having a similar conversation in her head, but in Hmong. We both sat there, unmoving in our swim suits, staring, clearly terrified of taking off that shirt. It was then that I went to autopilot and stood up, taking my shirt off and heading to the showers. I dug deep to find that confidence problem I have, in that I am OK with myself on most occasions. Fake it til it's true, right?

I came out of the shower and saw that she was also coming out of the shower, and I followed her to the pool door. She went out and immediately turned around to go back inside the locker room, passing me on her way back in. I stopped and turned around as she turned to give me a helpless look. I squared my shoulders and said, "can we do this?" and she straightened up her back and said hesitantly, "yes," and then disappeared back into the locker room. I got in the pool, which was not much less crowded, but worked out OK with 2 older men power walking and talking about their Bose radios and some converter to record DVD movies onto VHS (What???? WHY?). A lane opened up, and I left it open, hoping my commiserate would see it and come out. After about 5 minutes, she did. She swam to the other end of the pool and stood in the corner in the sun doing stretches and kicking up water. In an odd way it motivated me to just keep moving. I only spent a half hour in the pool, but I kept moving. It didn't really seem odd to me until I told my friend about it and she found it fascinating! :P

So, I went back on Friday, after calling my friend and asking her to remind me that I was NOT, in fact, too tired to go to the gym, and how great I'd feel after (and I did). The scale said I was down 2 pounds from Tuesday, but I don't believe it. I don't know how it could lie, but it is.

So, today's song of the day is twofold;

This song because it was on at the gym, and I just really like to move to it. But it's not how I'm feeling, I just love the beat.

But, in honor of my lame attitude I have about myself, and the stupid extent to which I need to motivate myself, today's song is: