So Why Did It Take Four Calls and 24 Hours?

Terrified. Weepy. Furious. My moods swung like mad last Monday, and all those moods were passionate. My doctor was supposed to get back to me with my test results, and my next steps, once she reviewed the lab report.

I took Monday off as a Personal Day because I didn't want to discuss my health in open forum. We have what is euphemistically called "open seating," which means there's no privacy whatsoever. If I had bad news, I didn't want an audience.

So I spent Monday waiting to talk to my doctor. Waiting for a conversation she and I never had. And that left me bubbling over with anger.

I got up Monday, took a shower, and called my doctor's office. It was about 10:15. The receptionist said that either the doctor or Gwen, her nurse, would call me back as soon as my results were available.

Around 11:00, Nurse Gwen called and said, "It says here there was blood but no infection, so don't worry."

"But the doctor told me that infection was the most likely option because it would explain the blood." That's what I said. What I was really thinking was: Cancer bleeds but cancer is not infection. I also asked if I was supposed to keep taking the prescribed antibiotics. After all, they treat infection, and she just told me there was no infection.

"Oh," Nurse Gwen said, sounding a little less confident. "I'll have Doctor call you."

"Thank you," I said, looking forward to the conversation. I love my doctor. She helped change my attitude toward my health care. I'm a better consumer now. After all, my doctor is the one who has said, "It's not enough to know what's not causing this. We need to know what the problem is." She's the one who always gives me "next steps," even if that "next step" is "Remember to make an appointment because I want to see you again in six months."

All afternoon, my phone was silent.

All day, my thoughts and fears bounced around like a pinball. It's nothing. I'm going to die. I have no one to call for help if I need surgery. If I have something serious, I hope we find it before I lose my job and my insurance. I'm fine, there's nothing to worry about.

And why the fuck isn't my doctor calling me?

After a day of this -- after a wasted day off -- I called her office again at 4:00. "I asked her to call me," I said, "and she never has. When can I expect to hear from her."

"Oh, don't worry!" the receptionist said. "Nurse Gwen is in there with her right now. Doctor will call you before she goes home. But Monday is her late night. She sees patients until 6:00."

At 5:45, I called the office a fourth time. I got the answering service! She had gone home for the day. Oh, and guess what! Tuesday the doctor doesn't have office hours! She and Nurse Gwen are at the hospital all day every Tuesday.

I tried not to start screaming. I'm not entirely sure I successful. I made it clear that I wanted my doctor to get this message in the morning -- somehow, some way -- and that she should know I've called four (count 'em! 4!) times.

I slept about a half hour Monday night. Tuesday, as I was getting ready for work, I called the doctor's office one more time. I explained my situation -- my day and night of terror and my concern about privacy at the office. The receptionist put me on hold and came back with my chart.

"Your file has a note that says you spoke to Gwen and there's no reason to call you back."

WHAT? WHAT!

"So," I blurt, "I could have cancer and no one wants to answer my questions about it?"

"No. No, no," she said. "That's not how it works! If there was anything serious in your results, the doctor would have called you herself."

"I have questions that Gwen didn't answer."

"I'll see what I can do," she said.

Another physician in the practice called me back. Dr. Burn had seen me in 2016, when she was subbing for my doctor during my battle with c diff.

"First of all, stop taking the antibiotics," she said, as imprudent use of antibiotics has been tied to c diff. Nurse Gwen didn't tell me that.

"Your results don't show 'no infection,'" she clarified. "The results are inconclusive for infection." Nurse Gwen didn't tell me that, either. The doctor said it could be all the fluids I'd been drinking or the OTC meds, but while blood was evident, there was no clear reading on infection.

"This is consistent with kidney stones," she said. My age, my weight, my diet all put me at risk for kidney stones. My symptoms, the location of my pain, the blood in my urine  .... that's what she thinks the problem is.

"But to be sure, let's wait a week and run another test."

A next step! I love having next steps!

Looks like Door #4

When I went to the doctor last Friday morning, I thought I'd been suffering cramps and bloody urine for one of these three reasons:

•  A bladder infection
•  Prolapsed bladder
•  Bladder cancer (gulp!)

The results were inconclusive, and that gives us a fourth possibility: kidney stones.  My second doctor looked over my chart and says it's likely that last Tuesday I passed "a minute one." She wants me to wait until next week, submit another urine specimen, and see if she's right.

We have a plan. I love a plan.

Plus, I feel better. I love feeling better.

A lovely way to be remembered

Here in the blogosphere, it was Kwizgiver. On Facebook, it was an old boyfriend. I am glad that when people saw this, they thought of me.

Sir Paul in New York

Paul McCartney participated in the New York March for Our Lives because "one of my best friends was killed in gun violence right around here."

Separately, young Emma Gonzalez, Parkland shooting survivor turned activist, chose to wear the Lads emblazoned across her chest during her first CNN interview. This made me happy, too.

The sins of the father

In 2011, Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg did press in conjunction with the release of Jacqueline Kennedy: Historic Conversations on Life with John F. Kennedy. I recall ABC's Diane Sawyer asking Caroline about Jackie's reaction to John Kennedy's legendary infidelities. "I couldn't be her daughter and answer that question."

The late rancher/Dead Head/Renaissance man, John Perry Barlow, was a longtime friend and confidant of John Kennedy, Jr. Barlow says that JFK, Jr. dismissed the "great man" mantle that many felt was his birthright. "I think it will be more interesting to see if I can be a good man."

"I couldn't be her daughter and answer that question."
"I think it will be more interesting to see if I can be a good man."
Quotes from children who had been raised by a broken-hearted, widowed mother.

I thought of John and Caroline tonight when I was watching the Stormy Daniels interview on 60 Minutes. Our President was spanked with a magazine that had his face on the cover. By a porn star. Who came forward, in no small part, because he tried to bully her into silence. She dissed him as a lover ("Ugh. Here we go.") and reported that he spoke more glowingly of his eldest daughter, Ivanka, than he did of his wife, Melania. Who had just given birth to their son, Barron.

And so tonight I was very sad for our First Lady. Not because she now joins the ranks of publicly betrayed political wives. After all, Melania is Donald Trump's third wife.

I can't imagine what it's like for her to look into the face of the very young man she is trying to raise.  The 12-year-old boy who undoubtedly loves her. How does she explain Stormy Daniels (and Playboy Bunny McDougal and the Access Hollywood references to "pussy grabbing")?

I don't think it was an accident that the First Lady didn't return to Washington tonight, that she and her son stayed behind in Florida. That they are alone together as Stormy Daniels' revelations are broadcast.

I hope they're OK.

Weird day

I woke up this morning thinking I was fine, that my gut troubles were behind me. I felt good! Then, after about an hour, the bloating/ache kicked back in. I still wasn't feeling well when my Uber arrived to take me for my hair cut. Fortunately, the Excedrin took effect just as I got into the chair. Since I was there for color, highlights and cut, it took more than two hours.

By the time I got home, I started to feel ooky again. I took my antibiotic and tried to regroup. I mean, it's Saturday! I deserve a better time than this on Saturday! I went to my favorite coffee shop -- just a few blocks away -- for a late-lunch burger and another chapter of chick-lit. I was fine when I was sitting there, but then, when I got up to walk home, OW! It felt like the longest couple blocks of my life.

I got home, took a nap, felt fine. Started to do laundry because, why not? It's not how I want to spend my Saturday, but I can't drink and I can't socialize because I feel creepy, so laundry seems like a reasonable thing to do. The thing is, going up and down stairs seems to make the cramping worse.

So this is what I've learned today -- I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO MOVE! I need to find a place, plant myself and I'll be fine.

I hate this.

Saturday 9

Sweet Disaster (2016)

Unfamiliar with this week's song. Hear it here.

1) This video begins outside a convenience store with a sign advertising beer, produce, lotto and an ATM. Will you buy beer, produce or a lotto ticket this weekend? Will you visit an ATM? I must remember to pick up a lottery ticket, as winning the lottery is my retirement plan. I went to the grocery store and ATM on Friday afternoon.
2) As the video progresses, fountain drinks and donuts are consumed. When you stop for a snack during a road trip, what do you usually grab? Coke and chips.

3) The lyrics reference "a river of champagne." When did you last enjoy a spot of the bubbly? About two weeks ago, I had a thimbleful of the stuff at a work celebration. I woke up with a headache! From less than half a glass! So I don't intend to drink it ever again.

4) The end of the video features sci-fi/horror images. Is that a genre you enjoy? If not, what kind of books do you read most often? I simply don't get sci-fi or horror or fantasy. The just feel like such an incredible waste of time. Lately I've been reading a lot of non-fiction (though I have chick lit in my purse right now).

5) The trio that makes up The Dreamers are dyed-in-the-wool New Yorkers. If you could live in any city or village in the world, would you move or stay right where you are? I'd stay in Chicagoland, because, you know ...
 

Opening Day is Thursday! Go, Cubs, Go!

6) The Dreamers describe themselves as "impractical."  What about you? Do you consider yourself practical or impractical? A cursory review of my checkbook would reveal me to be impractical.
7) They also won't "listen to those who doubt" them. Sometimes we find the ones who doubt us most are ourselves. What about you? Are you confident, or do you suffer from self doubt? I'm my own toughest critic.

8) Do you often remember your dreams? No.
 
9) Random question: Would you rather get $100 today, or $250 on this date a year from now? $100 today. Who knows if we'll be here a year from now?

Positively Biblical

There's a passage from the Old Testament that came to mind today: Your words are what sustain me; they are food to my hungry soul. 

I shot my boss an email this afternoon, reiterating that I'd been at the doctor today and the test results won't be back until Monday. I told him that, since I didn't want to hear the news out in public, I was indeed taking my long-scheduled Personal Day on Monday I gave him a quick overview of all my projects and noted that, since I worked ahead, no one should be inconvenienced by my absence.

His response? Here it is, in total.

OK

Thanks, Boss. That will sustain me and feed my hungry soul.

My morning trip to the doctor

The pain has been unrelenting since Tuesday night. Not debilitating, mind you. Just inescapable. The blood is less visible today, and my urethra has never burned/stung (so I don't think it's a UTI). But there's an awful pressure. Very deja menstrual cramps. It's as though my guts are filled with iron filings and the earth is a giant magnet.

So I went to the doctor this morning. She was wonderful, giving me one of the appointments she leaves open each day for emergencies. She spent as much time with me as I needed, explaining carefully and answering questions.

Behind Door #1, we have a bladder infection. This is the most likely culprit. She says that's the single individual ache that brings most post-menopausal women to her office. Sometimes, she says, it manifests itself as back pain. But just as often, it's bloody urine and abdominal cramps. She's so confident that it's a bladder infection, and so eager to get it cleared up, that she prescribed an antibiotic for me, starting today, even before the test results are back.

Behind Door #2, there's bladder prolapse. Since I had a total abdominal hysterectomy, it's possible that my bladder may have dropped toward my vagina. This is not likely, but it is possible. There are many ways to treat this, not all surgical. If the urinalysis points to this, we will discuss this further.

Behind Door #3 is cancer. She's 99% sure it's not cancer. That's why she prescribed the antibiotics. Bladder infections are terribly common in women my age, bladder cancer is not. If the test results come back, as expected, conclusively pointing to a bladder infection, we need not discuss this again.

I'm cautiously optimistic. Not hubristic -- I know too many people whose lives have been touched by cancer to think that it can't happen to me. But I'm determined not to freak myself out about this until the results come in on Monday.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

1. What are you currently reading? Love the One You're With by Emily Giffen. Newly wed Ellen is very much in love with her groom of three months, Andy. So why is she so very rattled by a random encounter with her long-ago love, Leo?

Yes, it's chick lit. It's about pretty people who are lawyers and photographers and sports agents. They live in cool neighborhoods and eat out every night. They have no money worries but tremendous romantic complications.

Giffen writes well. She's not Jane Austen, but she elevates potentially sudsy material above soap opera level. And the last three books I've read have been pretty heavy. I deserve a little tasty junk food once in a while.

2. What did you recently finish reading? Vulgar Favors by Maureen Orth. A compelling but ultimately very frustrating book about Andrew Cunanan, the subject of the current Ryan Murphy/FX American Crime Story mini-series. This book was the source material for The Assassination of Gianni Versace.

It's a fascinating story because we'll never know why Andrew took out five well-loved and completely decent men. He wasn't your typical mass murderer. He was handsome, bright, funny and well educated. He had a gift for making (though not keeping) friends. He had talents and could have had a successful career (if he'd had any appetite whatsoever for work). There was no prior history of violence. So why in April did he suddenly begin a killing spree that ended with his own suicide in July?

Orth breathlessly tries to explain it away by pointing to his fondness for porn and drugs. Even in the pre-internet 1990s, porn was easily accessible. So were drugs. And yet somehow, South Beach wasn't crawling with serial killers.

There was one passage that stayed with me, that went further toward an explanation than any of her tsk-tsk-ing about gay porn and tweaking. His killing spree may have begun because his life of lies was about to be exposed. " ... the men he cared for most were turning their backs on him, banishing him to struggle alone, insecure, depressed and overweight. It was all their fault. They were forcing him to expose the sham of his grandiosity like a mangy peacock."

He had no faith, no sense of values, no sense of self. All Andrew Cunanan had was grandiosity. Perhaps that final, pitiless exposure was simply too painful for him to bear.  

3.  What will you read next? Maybe another biography? Or a mystery. My TBR pile is stacked dauntingly high with both. 

Uh-oh

My gut hurts, and there's blood in my urine. I took a pair of Excedrin, soaked in the tub, and scoured the internet for possible causes.

It could be cancer, which is always on my mind. After all, my friends (Barb, Kathleen and Ed) have all battled it. Instead of "why me?" I tend to think, "why not me?"

It's more likely a urinary tract infection. A painful, but rather common, malady. Fortunately I already have a doctor's appointment scheduled for Monday.

Napoleonic Update

Monday I saw Napoleon's dad, Caleb. He reports that his wife is home and resting in their indoor, above-ground bed. He's worried about her moods -- but I told him that after a hysterectomy, any woman's hormones are going to be messed up -- and he doesn't think her pain meds are doing the job. For reasons I didn't quite follow, he "lost" his phone. (Has he misplaced it? Or did his carrier shut it off? I wasn't sure what he meant.) I let him use my phone to contact Kaye, a woman who has been helping them out.

Napoleon is quite a comfort to Randi. Caleb says he's very protective and sensitive to her during her recuperation. That made me smile. Fingers crossed that things continue to improve for this little family.

She's Ba-ack!

My oldest friend contacted me! Suddenly her cousin's house required a router. Now that they have one, their internet is up and running. She sent me a link to the MeTV March Madness poll where we viewers will pick our favorite classic theme. No doubt about it, here's mine:

Look how cute and charming The Tommer was back in the day. Now, whenever I see him either on Blue Bloods* or in those reverse mortgage spots, he looks so serious. Why so glum, Tom?

But I digress.

My oldest friend wants to keep things light, so we'll keep them light. I sent her the online pics I found of Sir Paul's recent trip to Beverly Hills. I'm just glad the lines of communication are open.

*I've never been able to get into Blue Bloods. Yet for a network show, it's crazy popular. Maybe it's me.

First the good news

Ladies and gentlemen, I present Sir Richard Starkey (who prefers to be known as Sir Ringo Starr). He was knighted by The Duke of Cambridge (aka Prince William).

I love The Lads from Liverpool. I love Diana's Boys. I love this picture.

Worried. Relieved. Guilty.

I haven't heard anything detailed from my oldest friend in weeks. This is the longest we've gone without keeping in touch in, literally, decades. This worries me because she has been battling health and severe depression. She has no income, and she was wrestling with California's welfare system so that she can get the pharmaceuticals and medical attention she needs.

Her recent emails were always chatting, superficial affairs. Mostly they were about how long it was taking her to unpack. I never understood this. She began the new year moving in with her cousin, into the attached "mother-in-law's" apartment. As I understand it, she has her own kitchen/dining room, bedroom and bathroom. My first place was a two-room apartment. I can't for the life of me figure why such a place would take two months to move into. A weekend, of course. A week, perhaps. But two months?

She said she was online all day looking for jobs. And getting rejections, which was breaking her heart. Then all of a sudden, I got a text that said their internet is out. That was March 7. I haven't heard from her since.

I know she doesn't like to talk on the phone anymore. At least not to me. I've heard her, in her own words, "blab away" with her kids and her cousin, but whenever I call, she doesn't pick up. So I don't bother to call anymore. So it's been radio silence since March 7.
 
On the one hand, I'm worried. She doesn't have resources for handling adversity. She copes by staying in bed. Getting up to eat and smoke*, but not to bathe. I'm afraid that the months she went without meds or a shrink have only exacerbated her depression. Then there are her other physical problems -- bad teeth, bad knee, incontinence. Pre-diabetes and ongoing heart trouble. She should be moving a little every day. It disturbs me to contemplate what she's doing to her health.

But then, I'm relieved. She loves her cousin so. She's always idolized this woman. In fact, it was one of my late mother's most vivid memories of my friend: When we were kids, my friend came over with some dimestore trinket anyone could have purchased anywhere in the country. But my mom remembers my friend saying, with a heartbreaking mix of pride and awe, "This is from my cousin. In California."  Now she's living with that cousin. If anyone can get through to my friend, it's her golden cousin.

And I feel guilty. I just saw a picture of my friend on Facebook, celebrating St. Patrick's Day with a Trump-loving friend of Cousin's. Seriously, here's what else is on their hostess' page.

I mean, really! How does this shit help anything?

ANYWAY, clearly their internet is back up, or Cousin couldn't have posted the photo of the St. Patrick's Day soiree. But I don't feel like reaching out. I'm not liking my own life right now, and I don't want to be weighed down by my friend's. Isn't that awful of me? We've been friends since Kindergarten. I know I should reach out.

But not tonight. I don't have to do it tonight, do I? I know she's surrounded by her cousin and her cousin's family and friends. If she wanted to talk to me, she could email or pick up the phone. All the work shouldn't be mine, should it?

OK, with her health issues, the heavy lifting has to be done by me. But I don't feel like it tonight. And, in my own defense, I sent her a little newspaper article via USPS last Wednesday, so she knows I've been thinking of her.

I love her, I do. I understand and accept that, for the foreseeable future, our relationship is going to be one sided. But I think tonight, I'm going to input my 3/15 finances into Quicken and wash my kitchen floor.

*Or vape, which she insists is "just steam," no matter how many articles to the contrary I send her.

Sunday Stealing

FICKLE IN PINK

1. Do you tend to have a guilty conscious? No
 
2. Do you still have your wisdom teeth?  No
 
3. Peanut Butter - creamy or crunchy?  Crunchy
 
4. Get up off your butt. Take 5 steps. Which leg did you start out on?  Right
 
5. What color is your favorite kitchen utensil? It's a a can opener with a white handle.

6. Did you watch the Michael Jackson memorial/funeral? Yes, I streamed it online. God, that was a long time ago. I can't believe I actually cared.

7. Do you know anyone who graduated from high school this year?Were you invited to their graduation party? Did you go? I didn't know any 2017 grads. My nephew will be graduating this spring and I intend to go.

8. White with black stripes or black with white stripes? Black with white.

9. If we were to call your 6th grade teacher, what would they say about you? Since that was decades and decades ago, I don't think you'll be able to find any of my sixth grade teachers.

10. Can you draw a perfect circle? No
 
11. What was your favorite scratch & sniff sticker scent? Strawberry
 
12. What does your sibling do for a living? My older sister is a CPA. My kid sister is a lunch mom.
 
13. How many light switches and electrical outlets are in the room that you are in right now? One light switch, two outlets.
 
14. Do you know sign language? A little. I had to learn the alphabet for a Girl Scout badge and I still recall much of it.

15. Do you step on cracks in the sidewalk? I suppose. I don't pay attention.
 
16. And the sheets on your bed look like....? They have a sea shell print.
 
17. What is something that everyone else has, but you don't? Netflix.

Feeling good about helping

One of the reasons I worry about losing my job is that a precipitous drop in income will mean a reduction in what I can give to others. Lest you think I'm too saintly, let me tell you that giving to others gets me high. It's right up there with a can of caffeine and sugar laden pop. When I'm too much in own head, giving snaps me out of it. So being unselfish can be very selfish for this gal. As I watch others close to me battle with depression, I realize how lucky I am that I know a quick, reliable way to lift my mood when it veers toward darkness.

Our office is collecting professional attire to donate to Dress for Success, so women on a limited budget can look good and feel confident at their next job interview. I brought in a 12P, fully-lined Lauren skirt that I never wore (and never will). It retails for about $50. I was a little disappointed by how empty the rack for donations was, so I made a mental note to visit the neighborhood rummage sale this weekend. The sale is held in a big old Victorian house, and there's a room devoted to "Women's Better Clothes." I hoped to find something there for Dress for Success. And, since proceeds from the rummage sale go to local charities, I thought it's a win-win.

Well, it was a win-win-win. For not only did I find a pair of gray Lauren slacks (like new and just $4), I got myself this coat! $178 new at Nordstrom (of course, it's not new) but it's now mine for only $14. I have a belted, hooded black trench! Happy, happy, happy!

Then I found out, much to my dismay, that my local camera shop is closing its doors at the end of the month. I love this store. But, as digital revolutionizes photography, their business model has changed. First they gave up half their floor space to a toy store. Now they've decided to move a much tinier storefront in a far off suburb, and concentrate only on photo finishing.

I understand their decision, and wish them well, but it still made me sad.

Until I saw that all the toys are 50% off! So now some little kid is going to get the Cha-Cha Chihuahua board game from Santa and Toys for Tots ... and me.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Danny Boy (1956)

1) This is a sad song of farewell. Who is the last person you said "goodbye" or "so long" to? One of my coworkers is moving on to greener pastures and Friday afternoon, I wished him goodbye and good luck.

2) According to the 2000 Census, Massachusetts is the state with the largest percentage of residents of Irish descent. Have you ever been to The Bay State? Yes. Twice. I really enjoyed it and would love to go back.

3) "The wearing o' the green" is one way to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. Will you wear something green in honor of the day? I have two green sweatshirts. I will don one of them.

4) What color makes you look best? I'm fair skinned with green eyes, so green flatters me.


5) Will you drink something green in honor of the day (like a Shamrock shake or a green beer)? No.

6) A four-leaf clover is considered good luck. Do you have a lucky charm? A friend gave me a Guatemalan worry doll. When I fly, I transfer my terror to her.

7) Though she's singing an Irish ballad, this week's featured artist, Joni James, is of Italian heritage. Can you think of a song as identified with Italy as "Danny Boy" is with Ireland? The first one that comes to mind is "That's Amore." But I don't know if it counts, since Dean Martin was from Steubenville.

8) Soda bread and potato bread are popular in Ireland. Are there any rolls or bread in your kitchen right now? No. I've been eating a lot of crackers lately. Ritz, saltines, graham crackers ...
 

9) Ireland is known for its whiskey. Do you enjoy Irish coffee (black coffee, whiskey and whipped cream)? No! I really hate all manner of coffee.

Update

Here's the skinny on Napoleon and his family: I saw a very, very sleepy Caleb Tuesday evening. He told me that this week, his wife was undergoing a hysterectomy. The hospital feels that this is the best way to combat her cervical cancer. Many details fell through the cracks as we spoke, since he was just so tired. (For example, he kept saying "artery" when he meant "ovary.") But of course he's exhausted. He works overnights, visits his wife in the hospital, sleeps a little, panhandles on the corner, visits his wife again, and goes back to work. It's a grueling and uncomfortable life.

But at least they've moved indoors. They had been living in a tent with a flap that never stayed completely closed, but now Caleb can safely leave his much adored Napoleon in the bedroom they now rent while he's working or at the hospital. For himself, he's got a sleeping bag on the mattress, but he's saving for sheets for Randi when she comes home to recuperate. It's important to him that she have clean sheets as she recovers from surgery, possibly four weeks.

Randi's boss at the salon sounds like a nice woman. She sent cosmetology books for Randi to study during her recuperation. She can't afford to pay Randi for work not done, but sending the books is a gesture of support. The boss is letting Randi know that when she's well, her job will be waiting for her.

I am cautiously optimistic for this little family. Snarkypants suggested crowd funding and it's a good idea. But it's hard to do because I wouldn't be raising the money for myself, it would be for Napoleon and his parents. How would I transfer the money to them? Or could I get their banking information? And what about photos? Caleb would have to bring Napoleon downtown or I'd have to go to their new home to take pictures? It's worth exploring, but I need Caleb to be able to focus, and he was just too tired to be my partner in this right now.

I soooo get this

Last week, two-year-old Parker Curry became a media sensation because she was caught staring, transfixed, at the portrait of Michelle Obama at The National Gallery. The little girl became so popular that word reached the former First Lady, who invited Parker to her office for a dance party.

I was her once. I was Parker. I was a little older -- perhaps 4. I know it was before Kindergarten and before I could really read yet. I could make out words here and there but I still needed help.

My grandparents always kept glossy magazines on the lower shelf of their TV cabinet. While the rest of the family was blabbing the kitchen, which was the real heart of my grandparents' home, I sneaked into the living room to peruse the magazines.

It was a thin, bound oversized softcover volume that I guess was about the Presidents and First Ladies of the 20th century. Lying on my tummy, flipping through page after page of black and white photos, I was distinctly bored. And who could blame me?

Florence Harding. Grace Coolidge. Lou Hoover. Eleanor Roosevelt. Bess Truman. Mamie Eisenhower. Even if the photos had been in color, these women would have looked black and white.* Then I got to the end and I saw her. Jackie.

If it wasn't this very photo, it was one similar. She wasn't portrait posed, like the others. She wasn't wearing "grandma" clothes and jewelry, like the others. She didn't look like she would smell of mothballs, like I was sure the others would.

Whereas little Parker said Michelle Obama looked like a queen, I thought Jacqueline Kennedy looked like a doll. A Barbie doll that I would send on glamorous adventures.

I quickly moved on, of course. Pre-schoolers have notoriously short attention spans. Besides, at that stage I was seriously into my collection of model horses. But that moment on my grandparents' living room carpet had an indelible impact.

In a few short years, when her husband was murdered on my birthday, thereby disrupting my 6-year-old life and completely ruining my party, I felt that God gave JFK to me. Obviously I was supposed to learn all I could about him. And while reading about him, I naturally learned about her.

She never broke down when her husband died in her arms, so she was tough. But also beautiful. She spoke French, Spanish and Italian, so she was smart. But also feminine. She cared about Important Things, like art and ballet, but she dressed just as well, if not better, than my Barbie doll. So she could still be cool and fun.

First Ladies matter. I realize that there's a racial component to Parker's adoration of Michelle Obama, and I appreciate it. But that doesn't diminish Jackie as my early role model. I predict Michelle Obama's impact will be felt for decades to come, just as Jackie came to represent the ideal American woman to many of us Baby Boomers.

*As an adult, I realize how unfair this assessment was. Especially about the esteemed Eleanor. But I was not much older than Parker, so you have to cut me slack.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing

1. What’s the coolest item you’ve found at a garage sale, flea market, etc? I have picked up a number of sweaters that I really like: the black/white diamond patterned one, the brown v-neck, the green Izod, the purple and gray jersey, the royal blue cardigan with navy polka dots ...

2. Describe how your day went yesterday. See post below.

3. Do you have issues with people entering your personal space? What do you do when your personal space is violated? Oh, yes! I pout and scowl when anyone gets too close.

4. What is the one meal recipe you think you’ve mastered? I throw a salmon filet on my little George Foreman, mix a salad while it's grilling, and then slather it with barbecue sauce. 

5.  If you could take back something you did to someone, what would it be? I did the same crappy thing to two different men, and I wish I could take it back. Years apart, I acted as though my voicemail was on the fritz to avoid going out with them. They both liked me too much too fast and it scared me. Naturally it was my right to back away. Still, there was a much better, more compassionate way to handle it.

6. Would you describe yourself as spiritual, religious, or something else? I'm more spiritual than religious, but I am glad that I have a church to go to when I feel the need.

7. Did you ever receive detention in school? What sort of kid were you in school – bookworm, smart kid, troublemaker, quiet … etc. Disaffected nerd.

8. When’s the last time you ran a mile? How often do you exercise? I don't know that I've ever run a mile. I try to get to the gym twice a week. I make it once a week.

9. What would you say to your 16-year-old self, and why? Mom is soooo wrong: these are not the best years of your life.

10. What are you avoiding? I'm fighting the urge to go back to bed. The spring ahead shit hurts this morning.

11. Describe a “Hah! I told you so” moment you had recently. Nothing springs to mind.

12. What’s more important, where you live or what you do for a living? Why? It's so easier for me to make a living in advertising here in Chicago than it would in other major cities, so it's hard for me to separate the two.

13. Swear words: Are you pro or con? Why? I don't give shit.

14. Paper or plastic? Do you prefer to pack your own groceries? Canvas. No.

15. Do you have a shoe fetish? How often do you buy new shoes? Do you ever get rid of a pair of shoes? No. I used to love buying shoes, but since my heel spurs 20+ years ago, I'm really limited on what I can wear. And when they wear out, I throw them out.

Good Saturday, Good Friends

I have decided to stop cocooning and get back out in the world! First I had dinner with Kathleen, then Barb, and last night I saw Joanna. While I kinda have to force myself to do get dressed and go out, I find it improves my mood.

Joanna and I met for an early tapas dinner at Valencia. I had empanada de buey (beef in pastry) and datiles con tocino (dates wrapped in bacon) and mango margarita. Joanna didn't have a drink with her tapas but she had dessert. It was good to catch up.

Our lives are surprisingly similar right now. At 65, she finds finances chaotic and she's unable to retire. She has a dog and cat she completely dotes on. She's had good girlfriends who have disappointed her. She has a mad crush on tennis' Roger Federer. The details are different, but in broadstrokes, our stories track.

She may have freelance work for me. I may have a job lead for her. But this was not a networking dinner. It was good food with with a good friend.

Then we saw To Be or Not to Be with our movie group. Only three people showed up with week: me, Joanna and a newbie named Penny. I didn't really like the move, but I love Carole Lombard. I love her look and the sound of her voice and the special way she delivers a funny line. This was her last movie (she was only 33 when she died) and here she is in her final onscreen credit. Gorgeous!

It was good to see Will, our moderator. I was surprised when he greeted me with a hug, but it made me happy. I was supportive of his search for a new venue for our little group, and I did make a memorial donation in his mother's memory. I think he appreciates that. But we never hugged before. It surprised me, and it was nice.

Saturday 9

On and On (1977)
Unfamiliar with this week's song. Hear it here.

1) This song describes the plight of "poor ol' Jimmy," who caught his girlfriend kissing someone else. Have you ever spied on a romantic partner? Yes. I remember it vividly. I wasted my 20s on a guy who was so completely not worth it, but it wasn't his all fault because he gave me soooo many signs. We worked together at a big company, and I noticed a new coworker's name cropping up in conversation a lot. Like when we were buying grocery shopping, "the new girl likes strawberry ice cream," etc. He said he had to work late one evening, and I didn't believe him, so I hid behind a pillar in the parking garage and watched the front entrance. Sure enough, he left with her. I could tell she was smitten by the way she was hanging on his every word as they walked and talked. Actually, they didn't sleep together that day, as he just made up an excuse to stay late so he could walk to the train station with her. He beat me home by just a few minutes. It's funny, but I felt sorry for both her and myself. Her, because while he might cheat one me, I knew he was never going to dump me for her and she was doomed to disappointment. Me, because I was in this relationship where I felt I couldn't be happy but I couldn't leave. I finally did -- about 3 years later. (Gee! This was a happy answer, huh?)
 
2) In this song, Stephen Bishop sings that he "smiles when he feels like dying." When did you recently put on a happy face, even though you really weren't all that happy? Every day at work so far this year. The coworker I sit with day in/day out is so consumed with her own family issues, and she's constantly on the phone with her family issues, and it weighs on me. But I do my best to stay perky! I channel my inner Dick Van Dyke, 40 hours/week.

 


3) Stephen Bishop always wanted to be a musician, and as a child he began playing the clarinet. Did you take lessons -- dance, art, music -- as a child? If yes, did you take them because you enjoyed them, or because your parents made you take them? I took ballet because my older sister wanted to take it and my dad wouldn't drive to two lessons on Saturday mornings. I had no talent for ballet and wanted to take guitar so badly!

4) When he was 12, inspired by The Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show, he switched to the guitar and began writing songs. Tell us about someone or something that influenced your career path. When I was a secretary (back in those days, we were still called "secretaries"), I worked for an officious, rather silly man. One of the company's few women VPs had the office next to his, and she took a liking to me. "Doesn't it bother you that you're smarter than your boss?" she'd ask me. She gave me pep talks all the time, and when the opportunity arose to take the test to become a copywriter, she literally placed it in my hands (and in the hands of her own secretary). Her name was Celeste. I am eternally grateful to her. She really paid it forward.
 
5) Stephen Bishop attended Will C. Crawford High School in San Diego. This school requires students complete 20 hours of community service every year. Tell us about an organization, cause or campaign you volunteered for, either as a student or an adult.  

Oh, I'm always doing little things, but frankly not enough. Last summer I worked the library book sale, and I'll do that again. I regularly drop canned goods off at the local pantry. But nothing has captured my interest and heart and time in a big way since John Kerry's 2004 Presidential campaign. I dedicated myself and my finances to that. I think you know how it turned out, and it broke my heart 10 ways to Sunday.

6) In 1977, when this song was popular, Seattle Slew won racing's Triple Crown. Sam's mother has always been afraid of horses. Is there an animal you're uncomfortable with? I'm afraid of squirrels. When I was a little girl, I fed a squirrel every morning through the mail slot in our front door. My dad discouraged me by telling me about a little boy ("just your age") who was bit by a squirrel. The squirrel clamped his jaws so tight onto the kid that even after the police shot him, the squirrel didn't let go. None of this was true, of course. But it terrified me and stayed with me.
 
7) Also in 1977, moviegoers waited in line for hours to see Star Wars. What's the longest line you waited in recently? The post office at Christmastime.

8) The mini-series Roots first aired in 1977. Today Americans are spending more time and money than ever to research ancestry. How far back can you trace your family tree? I know of four of my great grandparents -- both my grandfathers' parents. On my dad's side, they were in Berne (Germany). On my mom's side, they were already here in Chicagoland.

9) Random question: It's often said that nobody's perfect. How about you? What quality keeps you from being perfect? I am lazy.