understanding and validation

On my way in to work this morning I was listening to NPR which I do most mornings. They were talking about the up coming election which is about all they ever talk about. They were discussing Newt and Mitt. Ha, what funny-sounding names! Newt and Mitt.

This is not a political post. I listen to stories about politics because I don't want to appear stupid. I get a little out of it before my mind starts to wander on to other things that interest me more. So this analyst was saying that he liked Mitt more and thought that he would make a better President. But he said that he thought that Newt understood the Republian party better. He thought that Newt was more in tune with the feelings of the Republian party. He said something that made me sit up and listen. He said that when a woman tells a man about a problem that she is having, that the man always immediately starts to offer solutions. He said Mitt is like that. But that isn't what the woman wants. She is capable of thinking up her own solutions. What she wants is understanding and validation. She wants him to say (these are my words not his, his were a little more formal) "Awh, that sucks." "I understand how you feel." Followed maybe by a little pat on the hand. I totally identified with what he was saying.

He said that Newt gets this and offers the pat on the hand first and then helps solve the problem. So I guess Newt is more like a woman.

discomfort

Sometimes all you gain when you step outside of your comfort zone is discomfort.

upbeat me

I've been looking at old journals of mine. Once back in 1988 I let myself be talked into selling Mary Kay. I liked the products. I even liked demonstrating them. I didn't like contacting people and asking them to buy or have parties. This is an excerpt from 8/8/88 where I'm giving myself a pep talk.

I've decided that if I'm ever going to do anything with Mary Kay I'd better start. Maybe recording my progress in this diary will help. I'm interested in a career with Mary Kay. I just need to overcome the fear of asking people. Last night I organized my desk and put my financial matters into order. I believe I'll place an order for nail care, holiday items and some glamour and now I need to get out and call people and ask people. I really feel the products are great.

to be continued.......

a mess o running bras

I only own two running bras that I like and both are ragged, the fabric torn away from the elastic. Yesterday during my outing I stopped at Walmart. I used to be able to walk through the clothing section at Walmart and find tons of things I liked. Now I can't find a single thing. But I do like their Hanes running bras. So I picked up five new ones and tossed those ragged ones.



I've been noticing the younger girls at the BAC wearing looser blousier tops recently. At the Goodwill I found this Nike top and this Champion looser fitting top with the original tag still on it.

dealing in counterfeit shoes

I'm so happy that I didn't make a New Year's resolution restricting my number of visits to resale shops. I really don't go as often as I use to but I don't want to feel guilty about going at all because it is one of the great small pleasures in my life. And what is wrong with having small pleasures in life. I've found that when I do go I often end having a theme color or set of colors. One day I'll come home with a bunch of tans and browns, another day I might be attracted to bright colors. But more often than not I'm attracted to black, grey, metallic and dark red. Never bright tomato red. If you look in my closet you may think I'm a very dull person. Maybe I am. I know that I do prefer to wear dull colors. My favorite color for clothing is grey...that sweatshirt grey color.

So I stopped by Goodwill yesterday and had such fun. An hour goes faster in Goodwill than any other place I go. Certainly faster than at work or exercise class.

I picked up a silver cowl neck tunic top, a DNKY dark red sweater with full sleeves gathered at the elbow with ties, a grey with black velvet trim cami, a silvery grey mesh tank from Talbots, two Champion exercise tops (not pictured), a gold Calvin Klein belt and two pair of shoes. One pair of shoes is Ann Marino. I always like her shoes. These will replace a favorite pair of shoes of mine that lost a button. They look a lot alike and both were thrift store finds. This other pair like high-heeled boots....well, they drew me in because they said "Made in Italy" on them. They are sort of cute and will look good with some of my pants that are bit too long or kind of racy with black tights and a skirt. I Googled the brand name when I got home and couldn't come up with a hit. But I did come up with an article about counterfeit shoes that are made in China but have Made in Italy stamped on the sole above the size. Well, guess what? Upon further inspection, I believe these shoes qualify as counterfeit. Not really very well made. But I'm not a shoe snob. I like the cheap ones along with the designer ones.

BTW...if my feet were smaller I could have snagged a pair of Laura Ashley bronze metallic woven linen cloth shoes that were sooooo cute.




This was my exciting find. It's so over-the-top. Here's the little story that goes with it.

I'm poking around all the racks. I have a good eye for spotting the brand names, the fine fabrics. As I'm poking I'm keeping an eye on the two kids putting out the newly marked clothes. A young girl and a young feminine guy. Both have toothpick legs encased in skinny jeans. He has a soft giggle that erupts every time he points out a cute top or a cute pair of jeans to the young lady. Every time he selects a belt that will complete the suggested outfit. At first I think that he is one of those guys that I see in resale shops occasionally who are selecting clothing for their own consumption. Then I realize that he is working. I see see him hang this jacket on a rack that I had just perused. I wait a few minutes and then casually stroll back over. I get that high then you have found something great. It's made in China but it's cute and fit me perfectly. I might not wear it, I might wear it a few times. It's one of those things that a few people will love and most people will think you look like an idiot in. But that has never bothered me much. I go easily from classic to over-the-top.

A final aside.....my sister-in-law posted this quote of Eleanor Roosevelt's recently - Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people.

I felt instantly offended by this. Discussing people is great fun and some professions are devoted entirely to this. I do have some good ideas sometimes. I can discuss ideas and events. But I have to accept that I prefer to discuss people. I find people more interesting than events. I have a small mind. Lofty Eleanor can go suck an egg.

now serving

Inspired by a Facebook friend's picture post of her dinner out, I quickly put this meal together one night last week. Her dinner was spiral noodles, mushrooms and green peppers in a light sauce and a large erotic-looking sausage. I substituted chicken sausage cut in more delicate manageable chunks, orzo for the spirals, spinach, cherry tomatoes and olives for the green peppers and mushrooms. I cooked the sausage then removed from the pan and added orzo and chicken broth. Then the spinach and olives after the orzo was cooked. And finally for just a minute the cherry tomatoes. Served up with a sprinkle of parm on my new plates. Yum!!

alone again naturally

When I was driving into work this morning my eye was caught by what appeared to be a dirty clump of snow hanging from an overhead wire. As I got closer I saw that it was a white with gray speckled feathers pigeon, all alone on the wire against a white sky and dirty speckled snow background.
I wondered why this guy was all alone as I drove on and spied overhead wires with clumps of pigeons huddled together. When I saw church roofs clotted with pigeons at the base of the spires.
Was he being ostracized for the colors of his feathers? Or maybe he is just a loner and doesn’t like to participate in group activities. Maybe he needed alone time to think his little pigeon thoughts.

briar rose

I love dishes. I happened to be looking through the Macy's ad and saw these and thought maybe it was time for a change. I've always liked Mikasa. My very first dishes were Mikasa. Even B likes these.

resolutions

I'm putting down my New year's resolutions. I quickly jotted them down in pencil on New Year's Day and just happened upon them again. Making them a little more permanent by putting them on my blog.

Complain less
Eat healthier..used to have no problem with this but my habits have slipped a little
Continue to exercise as usual
Be nicer to people...not that I'm not but I always want to try even harder
Read more....this a big one. I really want to do this
Organize a drawer or closet or shelf every week
Start sewing again
Send birthday cards on time
Limit my wine drinking to weekends

There it is.

depressing and gross talk

While Jay was home over Christmas break, we were sitting in the kitchen when an ad came on TV for depression medication. A voice asked “Do you have thoughts of suicide?” I replied “Who doesn’t?” This received a big laugh in my family. I mean seriously….who has never had thoughts of suicide? I’ve planned mine several times. Living near Niagara Falls I’ve come to the conclusion that jumping off would be my best option. Much better than driving off a bridge, closing my garage door with the car running or taking a bunch of pills. Not much danger of surviving that.
Of course, I would never do it. Too chicken and actually I don’t want to die. I love living.
Once when I worked at Gould in Schaumburg I went downstairs in the elevator with a group of co-workers. When the door opened and we stepped out into the lobby I remarked that the lobby smelled like earwax. Everyone acted so shocked that I would know what earwax smelled like. EWW…that’s so gross. Haven’t they ever poked their finger in their ear and smelled it? Are they so unaware of their body that they truly don’t know what earwax smells like? Or toenail jam?
These must be the people that don’t glance back before they flush the toilet and never have thoughts of suicide.
Ewww….enough gross talk. My next posts will be about happy, lovely things

1/5/97

A post from 1997

My Ribby is dead. When I look at a picture of him, smiling at me through half closed eyes, I see contentment and love. My kitty loved me completely. I was his whole world. And I loved him. He was my comfort. Ribbons trusted me completely. Even Friday afternoon when I whisked him from the warm dark corner of my armoire to swiftly carry him downstairs to his cat carrier. He entered without protest and drove to the doctor's office in silence. I think he knew what a sick kitty he was even when I did not. I began to suspect when he didn't want to explore the doctors examining room. Instead he curled back up in the carrier. He made himself difficult to remove from the carrier.
Dr. Crafts lifted him out. Dr. Crafts thought Ribbons looked pale and felt a mass in his tummy which was giving Ribbons discomfort when the doctor touched it. Dr. Crafts said something was definitely not right and kept Ribs in the hospital for X-rays and blood work.
This was 2:30 pm Jan 3 1997.

I kissed Ribbons on his soft little head, told him that I loved him and that I would see him later. At that time I suspected I might not see him him later, but saying I would gave me hope that it would come true. About 3:45 Dr. Crafts called me at home. Should I have stayed with Ribbons? Ribbon's X-rays showed a tumor. Dr. Crafts suggested exploratory surgery. I agreed. He said that he would know right away in surgery if it was an isolated tumor that could be removed easily or something more. I went to the grocery store and when I returned at 5:15 there was a message to call Dr. Crafts as soon as possible. I should not have shopped. I should have sat at home and waited for the call that I hoped would not come.
Ribbons had a tumor the size of an egg in his intestines and tumors in both kidneys. He had lymphoma---a devastating cancer. I gave my consent to administer the drug to put my baby to sleep. I never saw him again. I requested a group burial. Should I has requested a private burial since Ribbons was a private kitty? I think it matters little what happens to his sweet stripey yellow furry body. I didn't want to see him dead. I want to remember him alive. I look at his picture and can feel his little arm which he would retract as I ran my finger down it. I know the length of his back, how long it takes to run my hand down the length of it. His tail - how I would pet it to the end, then hold on while he flicked it out of my hand. The sweet way he would put his paws on my thigh with some unspoken request. The softest fur in the world behind his always clean pink see-through ears. His chirp in the morning. "Are you getting up now?"
My Ribby - I have nine years of memories of you. They may fade some over the years but they can never be taken from me completely.
Ribbons...I hope I think of you often. I miss you so now. I hope you enjoyed your life. I know you enriched mine and filled it with your love.


I write today...
Ribbons was a special little cat. Now I have another special little cat, Smudge, who will be celebrating his 15th birthday on February 18th. All cats, of course, are alike in many ways. After all, they are cats. But each is unique and special with their own little personality.

1/10/10

I wrote...
An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day. Sometimes I feel sad and overwhelmed...pulled in too many directions. I start to feel like an empty shell...like a walnut that when cracked open reveals nut meats that have dried to a papery thinness. I am, however, a person who strongly believes that you make your own happiness. So today I am rehydrating my dehydrated nut meats by doing something that makes me happy....cooking.

I write today....
I am seeing a theme. I like to cook.

1/5/2010

1/5/2010 two years ago I wrote in my journal...

1/5/2010 5:30 am
I have been awake laying in bed since 4:25 (should that have been ...I have been lying awake in bed?). I designed a purse and two blouses in my head. Then I took a tour of my great Grandma Morris' house in Middletown remembering the layout of every room and the placement of the furniture. I used to feel guilty about stealing the "Don't Forget Your Mother" paperweight from them but now I'm happy I did it. It is one of the very few things I have to remember her by.

This is followed by drawings of a black suede purse with little black flowers placed randomly and an off white top with lace band and small pink roses and a black knit top cut from knit dress with wide gold organza chiffon satin? with embroidery.