These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
My kid sister got served with a summons Friday night. We are being sued over my mother's house. This is what two (count 'em -- two!) lawyers told me was unlikely because we never signed anything related to her reverse mortgage. While we have no legal liability, it's a drag -- and an expensive one -- to be called into court like this.
Naturally this happened at 9:30 PM on a Friday night, when I can't get reach my lawyer. So I'm trying not to freak myself out. And I'm not successful.
The good news, such as it is, is that my kid sister was very pleasant throughout the call. This, after all the shit she put me through over the past month. I don't get it. Oh well. I can't fixate on it now.
Neither my older sister nor I have received our summons because the mortgage company never gave the process server our correct addresses. I imagine this will change, because they do actually have the addresses.
I am exhausted. But that doesn't mean I can sleep.
That would be ME! For today is moving day at work. As of 5:30 today, I will no longer be sitting in this crazy overcrowded clown car of an office! Beginning Monday, and through July,* I'll be in my very own little office with walls and a door and ... best of all ... my very own 5-shelf cabinet!
I have lived alone since I got my own apartment at age 18. As a youngster I never shared a room with either of my sisters. I love my alone time. And this sharing an office with THREE OTHER PEOPLE has been very difficult, very taxing for me.
But beginning again Monday, I'll have my own space and easy access to my own files and I'm happy, happy, happy.
*As long as I still work here. One never knows around here these days.
According to the good people at WebMD, here are 13 things that will likely happen to each of us as we become senior citizens. No wonder my TT banner lady looks horrified!
1) Skin becomes less elastic and wrinkles more easily.
2) Nails grow more slowly.
3) The hair on your head gradually thins.
4) By age 80, it's normal to lose 2" in height.
5) You're likely to need reading glasses.
6) Night vision frequently loses its clarity.
7) You may not sleep as much, or as deeply, as you did when you were younger.
8) Bones get less dense, and therefore less strong.
9) You may have trouble recalling recent memories, as well as names and dates.
10) You may suffer a gradual decline in energy and/or endurance.
11) Your lungs become less efficient.
12) Kidneys decline in size and function.
13) High frequency sounds may be harder to hear.
If you watch NCIS*, you know about Gibbs' rules. Leroy Jethro Gibbs is the Boss, a very special Special Agent, and he has 51 rules that he and his team live by.
My cousin Rose just began watching NCIS recently and recommended it to me in a letter. (She and I have been regularly putting pen to paper and sending one another snail mail letters since the late 1960s.) I told her I couldn't believe that she didn't know Mark Harmon is my TV boyfriend and that I am the lay priestess of all thing NCIS! Since then we have been writing one another notes that include decidedly fan girl elements as we gush about our show. Lately we've been discussing what guest role Robert Vaughn should play. We believe it's inevitable that he appear since David McCallum (Ilya to his Napoleon back in the Man from UNCLE days) is an NCIS regular.
Anyway, I digress. I just got a note from Rose yesterday and on the back of the envelope she invoked Rule #5: You don't waste good. Then she scrawled, "And you are GOOD, Gal!"
That touched my heart.
For now that mother and my uncle are gone, the one who has loved me the longest and most steadfastly is my cousin Rose. And as far as family goes, she, my late uncle and my Aunt Jo are the ones who have accepted and at times even admired me for all the qualities that left my nuclear family wringing their hands and shaking their heads.
While it's unrealistic for me to act as though the shit with my sisters isn't happening, I must also remember that Rose knows me, loves me, and thinks I'm GOOD!
Spa trips are good for reflection. The quiet time encourages me to turn inward, the alone time clarifies things for me in my own head and in my own spirit.
The spa treatments just naturally encourage reflection, too, of this shell I inhabit. You have to be honest with yourself about yourself in order to choose the right treatments and get the most from them.
And so I looked at myself at 55. And I find much to my surprise that my age has finally caught up with me.
It's not vanity to state that, until now, my physicality has not betrayed my age. I remember that when I met my best friend 9 years ago, he actually thought I was lying and adding years to my age. I know that 2 years ago, my friend John mentioned to me (unsolicited) that he thought I looked less lined and "less matronly" than other women of my vintage he knows.
I'm not sure anyone just meeting me today would be surprised that I'm 55. My hair still doesn't have much gray but it has become noticeably thinner. A few years ago, when I tried to grow it out, I got frustrated by how hard it was to manage, actually breaking a brush at the handle. That would not happen now. And I'm seeing more hair around the shower drain. I know this is completely natural -- it's estimated that more than half of us will experience it, and it's part of why long hair is not that popular with women over 40. (Length weighs thinning hair down.) I know that I could see my grandma's scalp on windy days. I'm going to the dermatologist later this month. I'll ask him about meds. Maybe it's time for Rogaine. Or maybe he'll recommend I return to my GP for a blood test. If this postmenopausal gal now has an elevated androgen level, it may be time for a drug like Finasteride.
Likewise, my eyebrows are getting sparse. Again, this is not unnatural. That's why God made eyebrow pencils. Time for me to start using one.
My gums are receding. Again, a normal part of aging. That's why the phrase "long in the tooth" was born. More than 57% of women will lose at least one tooth after menopause.
My lips are thinning. I just read recently that one of God's cruel jokes on us women that as our hips get plumper, our lips get thinner and damn, if that's not true! I wouldn't care about this so much except for the prominent mole on my lip line. I always thought of it as a beauty mark, but now I think it accentuates my thinning lips. Another thing to discuss with the dermatologist.
Oh yeah, and I'm still fat. My metabolism has slowed. I have little or no energy, which means I don't move as much as I should. I've got to own this and do something about it -- not only for my appearance but for my health. I hope this didn't sound too depressing, because I'm not depressed. I'm 55. I'm not very gray yet and I'm pretty unlined. I know I'm lazy as all get out, but I project an image of energy. My voice still sounds young. So it's not all bad.
It's just that if I find myself in the job market again at this age, I have to be honest with myself about how I look and what I can do about it.
And what I just have to accept. After all, Betty White doesn't look like Jennifer Lawrence. Looking older as we age is natural.
My kid sister -- who hurt me badly and more than once over the past 30 days -- recently posted on FB that she really wants to give her husband tickets to see the Rolling Stones at the United Center this May, but after waiting online for hours, the only seats available on Ticketmaster were $1,245 ea. Without even thinking, I responded that she should go to StubHub. American Express cardholders who aren't really fans always take advantage of the presale for events like this and then resell their tickets for a profit. A few minutes later, my niece endorsed my idea, saying seats were $270 ea. on there. (They're even cheaper now -- such are the ways of StubHub.)
My helping her seemed to matter a great deal to my sister. The tone of her emails about our mother's final affairs softened considerably. But I did it reflexively. I don't really like the Rolling Stones and right now I certainly don't like my sister. I'm scrolling down FB, someone needs information or help, I can give it, consider it done. No big deal. And yet, under the circumstances, to my kid sister it was.
I've known her since before she was born, and yet she doesn't know me at all.
While I'm glad that she no longer feels we are at war, it doesn't make me like her any better.
This has changed me.
I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but since my mother died I have come to grasp something that my shrink used to tell me -- my nuclear family never did not see me as I am, nor did it ever appreciate me as I am. Looked at through their funhouse prism, I am the one who is too different, too edgy, too unconventional. Compared to what? Compared to them.
This is something my shrink has tried to tell me for years, but I just now get it. I'm 55, and I just now get it: Just because someone says something about me doesn't make it true.
I had wanted to take care of my mother's grave marker myself. I didn't care how it looked. I didn't care what it said. But I wanted to pay for it myself. I have always spent a portion of my tax refund on my mother. I wanted to do it one last time. My way of saying a final goodbye. I explained this to my sister.
It came up because she had $600 in her checking account that people gave us as gifts at our mother's service and $1000 in cash from the estate sale. She was upset about the checking account because she was afraid FAFSA would ding my niece for it and reduce the federal aid. I told her that, since she is the one who would visit our mother's grave the most, she should choose the headstone and use the $600 as a downpayment. The government could not possibly question the funds then -- not if the check was made out to funeral home. Then I'd pay the balance.
Instead she went and took care of it all herself. Paid the entire $1300 out of the $1600 in her possession. When I asked her (via email) why she did this, she responded that I could just handle the bookkeeping any way I wished. Meaning that I can take the money I had intended to spend on my mom and put it toward final legal fees. Or perhaps, I guess, that dumpster.
It was a petty, crappy thing to do. And it hurt me.
I feel alone and old and sad. What happens to all my "stuff" when I die? My sisters resent and hate me. I don't know why, exactly. The only comfort is that they resent and hate one another, too.
My niece is 20. I know she loves me, and I should do a better job of keeping up with her. But she's young. I don't want her to feel overwhelmed or trapped in a tug of war between her mother and me.
121.
Have you ever lost someone without having the chance to say goodbye? Yes. My uncle. I was in denial and refused to accept he was as ill as he was.
122. How do you feel about women in politics? Depends upon the woman.
123. Would you rather have an indoor Jacuzzi or an outdoor pool? I hate to sound ungrateful, but I'd rather have the cash.
124. What things are you interested in that you study or read about regularly? Current affairs and anything related to the 1960s.
125. Would you consider yourself to be intelligent? Yes.
126. Would you consider yourself to be wise? Not always.
127. Have you ever given or received a lap dance? No.
128. Have you ever spoken to a homeless person? Almost every day. I keep change in my pocket so I can help as I'm able.
129. Would you ever creep into the subway tunnels to go exploring? No. I firmly believe there's nothing down there worth seeing.
130. If you could add 70 years to your life but only by making some random
person die 70 years sooner would you? No.
131. Can you identify any of the following lyrics?
A: Nothing to kill or die for... John Lennon, "Imagine."
B: Late comings with the late comin' stretcher... Sorry, I got nothing.
C: I could make a film and make you my star... "You'd be a natural the way that you are." I don't remember the title or the artist though.
132. Are you worried about North Korea? No.
133. Would you rather be a world political leader or a talk-show host? I'd like to be a talk show host who interviews political leaders
134. Have you ever given someone a love letter that you wrote? Yes
135. Have you ever sent someone a surprise though the mail? Yes
136. Are you looking forward to any dates right now? Vacation perhaps? My oldest friend is coming to town in a couple weeks
137. Of all animated movies, which is the best one you've ever seen? I like when the real live actors perform with the animated characters, a la Mary Poppins
138. What are the best bands or songs to listen to while driving? I don't drive.
139. What do you think is the most amazing thing that anyone has ever
accomplished? Air travel. We take it for granted, but it's really a stunning achievement.
140. What could a member of the opposite sex do to impress you? Be smarter and wiser and kinder than I am. I'd love to fall in love with someone I could learn from.
How do I know? Because my breakfast was a bowl of granola eaten from a paper bowl over the sink. THIS was my room service breakfast tray in Williamsburg. Silver-plated, with a fresh white rose each morning. (As you can see, I collected three over my stay.) Spa ... ah ...
It's after 2:00 and I have done nothing of value yet today. Stop daydreaming, Gal, and get going!
In March 2004, I appeared as a freelancer at the agency where he already worked.
2) Mother Winters used to say she loved all us kids equally, but at various times she liked one
of us more than the others. Does your "friend ranking" ever shift? Or
is the person you think of today as your best friend always #1?
I suppose it shifts. There are friends who need me more at various times, and friends I turn to more readily when specific issues arise. But I always love them all!
3) What makes you a good friend?
I take friendship seriously and keep my buds in my thoughts. 4) Think back to your childhood -- what games did you and your friends like to play?
My bike: a rose coaster
Is riding bikes a game? Sometimes our bikes would be horses, other times motorcycles. It was a good day in spring when we got our bikes out, and a sad day when winter hit and we had to put them away. There were Barbies, of course, and jump rope was serious business on the school playground. The girl who lived three doors down and I had a competition to see who could read the most Nancy Drew books.
5) Would you rather lose your hair, or the little toe on your left foot? (Yes, you must commit to giving one up.)
My toe. I like my hair, but I don't really think that little toe is doing much for me.
6) Think of the phrase, "like nails on a blackboard." What is your least favorite sound?
You know the sound of cardboard scraping against cardboard when you're assembling a moving box? I HATE THAT SOUND!
7) Do you add fabric softener to your wash or place a softener sheet in the dryer?
Dryer sheet. Our building laundry room is four floors down and what I don't need is another JUG to carry down those stairs.
8) Showtime, HBO, or neither?
Right now, both. They are both included in my "bundle." I don't really watch them, though. When I want to see a movie, I look for it with the Comcast OnDemand feature.
9) Have you ever fired a gun?
I have a very vague memory of holding a rifle when I was four or five. It was early morning and we were visiting my mother's relatives, who lived on a farm, and my dad and the man of the farm thought it would be a good idea for us shoot. When my mom found out, she freaked. I don't recall if I actually fired the gun. I think I refused. I do recall it feeling big and very scary.
It was an almost perfect mix of getting myself pampered and getting my geek on in Colonial Williamsburg.
DAY ONE. I saw a performance, Loyalty or Liberty, on the site of the first theater in North America! The play was based on newspaper editorials of the time. The theme was about how conflicted married couples were about the prospect of war. Generally speaking, wives tended to be more loyal to the crown, but not out of passion for the king. Instead, they worry that liberty won't be worth the bloodshed and deprivation of war.
Then I went to a lecture about Patrick Henry. Enough education and geek, thank you. Time for a little retail. Got a sterling silver ring, based on an original 17th century design, and a bird bottle charm. Back in ye olde days, when a wide mouth earthenware bottle was cracked and no longer useful for carrying water, it was were mounted outside to attract birds, who then controlled the insects. I'm going to wear this sweet little charm on a silver chain around my neck.
Then I swam laps, soaked in the jacuzzi and ended the day with a massage and a pedi. Ah ....
DAY TWO. I began the day with a seminar called "Now What?" which addressed the dilemma of what to do with slaves abandoned by owners no longer able to care for them. It was a little too intense for some of the smaller children in the audience, but I have to give Williamsburg credit for taking such a frank look at slavery. It's impossible not to think about it, when you listen to our forefathers talk about the tyranny of the British, how all they wanted was equity and freedom, and yet they owned other people. It's a portion of our history that we have to own up to and examine.
Then I walked, and walked and walked. All through the village, up and down some of the less traveled paths. I enjoyed the people watching and kept track of the children's names called by agitated parents. I heard Hayden and Reardon and Bryce and Amaya and Jess. I guess there's no such thing as a Sally or a Bobby anymore.
I missed my mom a lot. I saw a booklet circa the 18th century on gardening that I thought she would get a kick out of. It occurred to me that she was the audience for most of my vacation tales. This left me feeling melancholy.
Toured one of the most impressive buildings in the Colonial Village -- the Peyton Randolph House. The tour guide annoyed me because she was a little too theatrical, a little too rigid about her prepared text and not too willing to answer questions. But that could be because she is new to this guide business. She confided that until recently she was working in the Lumber Office, where she took tickets and gave directions.
Then it was off to the spa for my biggest, best day of pampering. It began with swimming and the jacuzzi. Then I had the 18th Century Experience, described like this: "Begin with a warm and soothing aromatic foot bath, followed by a
fragrant orange and ginger body scrub to soften and rejuvenate the skin.
Historically, orange and ginger were used in the colonial apothecary
for a variety of remedies." My skin felt soooooo smooth!
All the while I had an especially stupid song from Valley of the Dolls running through my head. God only knows why. I crack myself up sometimes.
Lots of strange dreams that night. About my niece, and my mother, and my cat Reynaldo (maybe because I'm not used to not being disturbed by his nocturnal escapades). Woke up with a bright pink pillowcase. For some reason the gums around one of my crowns was irritated and bleeding. Maybe that's why my mind was racing as I slept. It just so happens there was a convention of oral and maxillofacial surgeons onsite at the Williamsburg Lodge while I was there, so I gues if something went really wrong, I'd have been in good hands.
DAY THREE. Started out rather low on energy. Maybe that's because of the spa treatments I was looking forward to: a lip wax and blackhead extractions don't leave a girl feeling especially pampered or sexy! So I began the day with retail therapy in the charming Merchant's Square shopping district.
I got myself a cardigan on sale at Talbot's and, best of all, found a wonderful little used bookstore called Mermaid. I almost bought myself a 1960 edition of Why England Slept, a book written by John F. Kennedy in the 1940s, but the price was too steep. Instead I got postcards from the 40s and 50s for my cousin Rose (Tampa) and Aunt Jo (Daytona Beach), and finished it off with a wonderful lunch at the Blue Talon Bistro (pot roast sandwich).
Got back to my room and checked the news (Cubs took two of their first three from the Pirates). That's when I learned that Roger Ebert died. Somehow there seemed only one appropriate response -- I went to the movies. I saw Hyde Park on Hudson in a theater with a tiny, 35-seat screening room. I thought Bill Murray, of all people, did a wonderful job as FDR in an otherwise rather aimless movie.
DAY FOUR. Travel day! I was eager to get home because I missed my cat, Joey. He's older and I worry about him. I think the thing I enjoyed most this trip was the artwork. I have a new appreciation for the primitive Early American style. Here are the four wall hangings that decorated the hall leading to my room. I found them enchanting.
I'm so happy to leave March behind, and I'm going to celebrate by posting nothing but good news.
1) Happy Birthday, Reynaldo. He was born just about now in 2004. This makes him 9. Suddenly I don't mind that he still races around, sings and torments me on a daily basis. Considering his age, I guess this is a good thing. 2) Michelle Pfieffer. My best friend spent last week on the road with his oldest daughter, showing
her colleges in the New York/Philadelphia area. I got a few emails/texts from him, but last night I could tell that he was truly excited. He and his daughter were celebrating Easter at a tony New York restaurant and Michelle and her family were at the next table. I was happy that he was happy, and excited that he got to see her husband, David E. Kelley, who wrote Ally MacBeal and Boston Legal.
3) Baseball! My Cubs play the Pirates in just a few hours.
4) Vacation, all I ever wanted! I leave for the airport in just over an hour.
I got through today. It's been hard. But I got through.
I thought a lot about my mother, who was celebrating her last Easter a year ago at this time.
I thought a lot about my uncle, who is also gone, but who gave me my most enduring Easter memory.
I was 6 and he was 21. He had just purchased his first NEW car, a Mustang convertible not unlike this one. He looooved that car, and his enthusiasm was so infectious that I loved it, too. It was unseasonably warm that Easter and he drove up to my grandmother's house with the top down and announced that our gifts were hidden somewhere in the car. I found mine -- a book -- under the floormat (front seat, passenger side). The leaves were green, the sky was clear, the car was blue and his smile was wide. My world was good. A few months later he was drafted and within a year he was shipped off to Vietnam. But at that moment, Easter Sunday 1964, my world was good.
And, of course, I thought a lot about Christ and how much I depend on Him. Knowing that I am the child of a God who loves me more when I stumble makes me work harder to do better. And His love gives me tremendous comfort.
The past month has been hard. The past 24 hours have been hard. But I have much in life to be grateful for -- including the readers who send good vibes my way.* I began this blog as an online journal, a way to create an accurate snapshot of my life I could look back on. I had no idea it would bring me in contact with people who would enrich my life soooo much.
Thank you.
*Yes, Vivian, even though I can't comment on your blog, I feel your prayerful support.
1: Who is your favorite Musical Artist from when you were a teenager? Always and forever, Sir Paul. In those days, he was fronting Wings.
2: Who is your favorite game show host? While sitting in my doctor's waiting room, I saw Wayne Brady hosting Let's Make a Deal and he was quite charming.
3: Who is your Favorite Blog hosting service? Blogger, though I'm not really that emotionally attached
4: If you could meet anyone again from your childhood, who would it be? Either my uncle or my favorite grandpa. They're both gone now, but they provided the brightest moments of my girlhood.
5: Where did you want to live when you were growing up? Chicago or New York. Maybe London. I knew early on that I was a City Mouse.
6: What is the most interesting piece of Trivia that you know? Max is currently the most popular pet name for both male dogs and cats.
7: If you could live in any point of history when would it be and why? Either the 1860s or the 1960s. They were such exciting, turbulent times in American history.
8: What is the most interesting job you have ever had? Copywriter for a company that marketed professional haircare products to salons. It was fun.
9. Please share one middle school memory. It can be good, bad, ugly, funny. Pictures or words, I don't care, just share. Walking with my oldest friend to the public library over the summer. It was an early taste of freedom, of being able to wander around town without parental supervision. 10. What's your favorite Beatles song? It changes. Right now, "You're Gonna Lose that Girl" from Help! I love the harmonies, and that it's rather subversive. I mean, the guy is giving his friends a heads-up that he's going after the girl. An unusual topic for a song.
11. If I asked you to describe your most comfortable outfit, what would it be? I don't know that it qualifies as an outfit, but my nightwear is the most comfortable clothing I own. 12. Would you rather host a party or be a guest? Guest! You can't sneak away when you're the host. 13. Do you think we will move completely from traditional books to digital ones, and if we do, are you OK with that? Yes, I do, and no, I'm not. I like holding a book, and I enjoy the romance of used books, wondering who had them before me. That experience will be lost when we're all on e-readers.
14. Do you learn best by reading, listening or experiencing? Probably listening 15.
If you are (or when you were) single, what is the kiss of death for you
concerning the opposite sex? (That is, what is one trait or behavior or
habit or anything at all that immediately turns you off from
considering that person a potential match for you?) I really hate kissing a smoker.
16. Snacks. Salty or sweet? Yes, please. I love them both. 17.
Look around you in a four foot radius. What object is around you that
you didn't realize was there or forgot was there? How long has it been
there? The fundraising newsletter from a local animal shelter. I keep meaning to order my friends t-shirts for birthdays and Christmas, but I haven't gotten around to it ... yet. And it's been more than a week. (A window into why my place is always such a mess.)
18. What is your favorite Tom Cruise movie? He impressed me in Rock of Ages. I didn't expect him to get that raunchy, or to lose himself in the role to that degree. 19. You
buy a bottle of shampoo and discover that you don't like what it does
to your hair at all. What do you do with that full bottle? Keep it around for stain removal. Shampoo is an effective pretreat for organic stains like food or blood. (Learned that from the guys in the lab when I worked for the company mentioned in #8.)
20. Your favorite spring comfort food? (Last week it was beverage.) Chicken or tuna salad, depending on my mood. That becomes my favorite lunch to brown bag as the weather outside goes from colder to warmer.
I could view today as the fitting coda to a week that found me feeling unhappy. That's better than declaring it a shitty way to begin my vacation!
Got up this morning feeling fine. It was the first Saturday morning in ages that was both warm, sunny and dry. I figured I'd go to my favorite coffee shop for breakfast, run a few errands, and then spring clean. After all, I leave for my trip to Colonial Williamsburg on Monday morning and wouldn't it be nice to leave with a less-cluttered condo on my conscience?
In the sunshine, my eyes REALLY bothered me. Watery and painful. As I dined, I found I had an easy time reading with my eyes lowered, but looking up hurt. Back out in the sunshine HURT!
I walked the few blocks to Walgreen's and their Take Care Clinic, my hands visoring my aching eyes each step of the way. I'm surprised by how powerful and independent those eye muscles are. I really had a hard time making my eyes do anything!
The nurse practitioner at Walgreen's was very popular today. Seems strep throat is going around. That is not at all what I have. I have allergic conjunctivitis. I thought that's what it was! Friday afternoon in our clown-car office, my eyes began stinging at about the same moment one of my coworkers reached for her inhaler! Our office building is one of the nation's tallest with more than 80 floors, and lately there's been a lot of remodeling going on. That means we're breathing a lot of dusty recycled air these days. And what irritated her lungs was irritating my sensitive eyes.
Anyway, most of my day was spent in the Walgreen's waiting area. Then I got my two prescriptions. The doc-in-the-box warned me that they were expensive. I told her I didn't care. And, at that moment, I didn't. I hurt, and I wanted to get the hurting to stop before I board my plane Monday morning! Plus Williamsburg isn't going to be any fun if I can't see it!
I left with a steroid nasal spray and NSAID eye drops. They cost me $10. When I saw that, without my insurance, they would have cost me more than $225, I suddenly did care and was grateful that I have coverage.
I'm feeling better now, though I'm indoors and it's well after sunset. I'm hopeful that the worst is behind me, painwise, and I'll feel better tomorrow for Easter.
Last night I met my former coworker, Tom, for drinks and chicken tenders at Infield's, a bar in the basement of the State Street Macy's store that none of our friends go to. I chose it because I wanted us to be able to speak freely ... and because I'm charmed by the sports motif and I can't wait for baseball to start.
Anyway, I was struck anew by how positive Tom can be, how voluble and very sweet. Even though he's currently unemployed, he is freelancing and so he and his new fiancee are moving full speed ahead with their wedding plans. She's over 30 and, as a pediatric intensive care nurse, is acutely sensitive to how quickly the odds of a difficult pregnancy become over 35. So they hope to be wed this fall.
Good for them. Good for him. Seeing him was a bright point in an otherwise low-energy week.
I've been feeling pretty blue lately and last night I was reminded to count my blessings.
I went to the theater (Priscilla, Queen of the Desert) with my friend, Barb. Beforehand we had a very nice dinner at a new restaurant -- at least new to us -- called Tamarind. And yet my mood remained bleak. I was fixating on how worried I am about my job, I felt superfat, I am disturbed about the issues with my sisters. I just couldn't shake the blues. Could. Not. Shake. Them.
Got off the train near my home at 11:00 PM. There were four of us, altogether, getting off at this stop. None of us knew one another. But soon we were operating as one.
There was a man of about 35, curled around the lamp post, on his side in a fetal position. There was an obviously bleeding cut on his head, above his eye. He smelled strongly of booze.
I kept walking but I had a plan. I knew my cell was dead -- I received a text from my oldest friend while riding the train and my phone did that telltale beep. But I knew I'd be in my living room within minutes and would alert the police to his dilemma.
But I heard a lot of conversation behind me. The other three had circled the man, trying to help him up. "Are you OK?" "Is there anyone you want us to call?" "Do you know where you are?"
I stopped to watch. If the three of them had it covered, I wouldn't bother the police. But I wasn't confident they did. The man still sounded drunk, or at the very least woozy, and kept refusing their help. He was on his feet, but now he was swaying a bit.
I headed on over and poked my nose in. I pointed out that I couldn't call the police myself but that one of them should because he was weaving and might end up falling onto the tracks. He didn't hear me, even though I in no way lowered my voice.
The other woman in our sober quartet of Samaritans touched my arm and nodded. "You're right." Then she turned to the men and said, "Let's get him down the stairs." She was indicating the other end of the platform, opposite from where I needed to go, chosen because it was so well lit and so far away from the tracks and danger.
I was satisfied that they had it under control and walked down my opposite set of stairs to my home.
Had this poor man been beaten, robbed and left on the still-icy platform? Did he get that cut on his face when he fell, or did someone punch him? How long had he been laying there? He looked so vulnerable, wrapped around that street lamp.
I am lucky. I am healthy and solvent and live in a town where all of us considered the best way to help. That's a lot, really. It's important to remember my blessings.
I just found a blog that was a rich source of facts and stats about that which brings us together.
1) America is home to approximately 31,000,000 bloggers
2) More men than women blog. It's a 60/40 split.
3) Wordpress and Blogger are the two most popular platforms. 4) Caucasians represent the largest (48%) single blogging ethnicity. 5) It's hard to make a blog pay. More than 80% of bloggers will never make more than $100 from their blog.
6) But 2% earn $150,000/year blogging from exotic locations. 7) More people blog than post. Wordpress estimates that there are 500,000 posts/day but only 400,000 comments.
8) 329,000,000 people view at least one blog each day. 9) 60% of all businesses and corporations have a company blog. 10) 65% of those business haven't updated that company blog in more than a year. 11) Most blogs (66%) are in English. 12) Only 1% of posts are published in Swedish. 13) Successful bloggers -- as defined by those who get the most hits -- explain their content through each post's headline.
