Kristi and I were at dinner tonight. We were sharing our normal banter of covering every detail that has transpired since we last caught up about three days earlier. She shared with me an interesting "call to readers" in "Real Simple" magazine. The open-ended question was, "At what point did you know that you were an adult"...or something to that effect.
Of course it prompted so much thought and conversation to follow. There are pivotal moments for all of us.
What seems so funny is that as a Jewish girl, I celebrated my Bat Mitvah within days of my 13th birthday. Somehow, our religion belives this magical age to be a rite of passage into adult hood. What in reality it became was a lot of Hebrew classes, reading (or in my case MEMORIZING) a portion of the Torah and reading a Haftarah, which I admittedly still don't know what it is. I got a big party at the Sportsman's Lodge, many gold charms for my charm holder, and a lovely leatherette photo album which I haven't seen since. While I love my rich culture, I'm not sure turning 13 prepared me for anything that 12 or 11 hadn't already done. I was no more able to face the world than a kitten, timid and small.
At 16, I could drive. This surely meant I had snuck over the line to adulthood. Wheels ='d freedom. I went to sleep on December 17th, still a mere child. I woke up on December 18th, and mysteriously was now ready to have 3000 pounds of high-powered steel beneath my clutches. On the morning of December 18th (it was a Friday), I got up early. Got dressed in my favorite jeans, my I Love Lucy t-shrit and my brand new red Nine West shoes with the stacked wood heals and the bronze trim (it was 1981, remember). My so-called father took me to the DMV to be the first one in line in my brand new opal white Volvo Turbo 240 GLT. I drove a block, perfected a three-point turn, and alas, was given enough rope to hang myself. At 16, sweet or not, I somehow thought I was an adult. That was until Monday, December 21. I was hit broadside by the guy that worked for GTE (aka The Phone Company). I totalled the new car, broke my collar bone, collected a massive concussion with an adult dose of amnesia, and could do nothing for myself or anyone else for that matter all of Christmas vacation and for some time after that. Adulthood was off to a rip roaring start.
I went to college at 17. Now THIS is adulthood. No calling to say when I'd be home. Go to class or not...that was up to me. I could schedule the classes I wanted to take, at the times I wanted to take them. Pretty adult of me to schedule all early morning classes so that I could spend the rest of the day at the beach. College and all it's fun was financed by my generous parents. OK...this adult thing isn't so bad after all.
At 18, I was allegedly truly emancipated. Only, I was still completely bank rolled by the folks. Doesn't quite work well when you are in this limbo sort of phase. I mean, it's nice and all, but deep down, I knew that adulthood meant being independent and I was anything but.
At 21 I could drink alcohol. It was very mature of me to pour the poison down my throat as fast as I could and spend the next 12 hours barfing it up. Afraid that I might die. Or worse, that I might not. Making deals with God while hugging the delicious white porcelain of the toilet, pressing my face so tightly to the bowl just to stay cool. Yeah...this adult thing is great!
And so went the 20s...At 28 Europe at 29 I met my husband, I got married I had kids.
None of these things had the impact it did until the realization at 42, that this is my life. This is MY life. There are kind friends and my dear family. But it finally struck me, something my mother had told me my entire life. When you go to bed at night, you sleep alone.
I never really knew what this meant. What I have come to learn, is that no matter what is going on in the world outside, or who is laying beside you, your life, your happiness, your sadness, your thoughts, your worries, your grit, your dreams...they are exclusively yours. This is when I truly knew I was an adult. When I knew that my heart could break in a million pieces and my parents could pick up those pieces, one at a time, but putting it back together could only be done by me. That's when I knew.
When I stopped coveting the lives of others and started to be inherently, consciouly grateful for every gift I'd been given. When looking at my children play at the beach, chasing the waves seemed like enough to fill my entire world, I knew I was an adult. When knowing that an uneventful day is an event in and of itself. And that that makes a wonderful day, that's when I knew. When I tuck my children safely in their beds every night and I am thankful for their saftey and I am totally conscious of how fragile that moment is. When I was thrilled that my Life Insurance exam came back with a Super Plus rating. These are the moments that I know I'm truly an adult. I don't take a single laugh for granted and I stopped wishing away time. Every bit of good news is GREAT news. I stopped thinking in and started thinking out. When I weathered a very difficult time, day by day, and came out still standing. When I was able to objectively evaluate my own worth in this world, and I liked my score. That's when I knew. It wasn't one event. It was a series of events. But it wasn't at 13, or 16 or 18 or even 21. I don't really believe I became an adult until I knew and truly trusted that I could stand on my own two feet. That didn't happen for me until the most recent of times.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
MJ - My thoughts from June...never posted
So I know this is a big point of controversy...did he? didn't he? molest those kids. Personally, I don't really think so. I think he made horrible choices and was a very confused and tragic person. I have watched every minute of Jackson coverage that I could possibly fit into my tv viewing schedule. Mind you. I'm not a huge Jackson fan. But I beleive that he is more a tragedy and the result of crazy, exploitive parents. Most people as adults could not handle the life he was forced to live at 5...but I digress. This really isn't about him. This is about the crackpot Mayor of LA. Is it possible to be more stupid than that guy? I'm glad to say although I'm from LA, I have not lived there for 26 years. I am not skilled enough with the English language or any other language for that matter to come up with the adjectives my gut is begging for.
The city is underwater to the tune of a billion and half dollars at least. People are losing their jobs right and left and this moron thinks that it is the obligation of the city ie the taxpayers to pay for MJ's funeral and compared it to the presidency? What? Additionally, chastised his staff for soliciting money to help defray expenses. I don't know politics or the heirarchy of things, but is there some one above the philandering whore that can over ride him. The sales tax in LA is at nearly 10 %. If I was living in LA right now, struggling to pay my bills, I think it simply time to cash in the chips. God help us all if this guy has the same devil spawn that ends up in politics and any other position of power.
And, while I have so much empathy for MJs children, if the rest of his family had any class, they would have stepped up and paid the mere pennies it would be to them to cover the costs. Additionally, the cheap, elitest Hollywood types who entertain me yet I still can't stand, would certainly be looked upon more favorably if they pitched in. Truly, a couple of bucks is what it would amount to for 100 of the most visible. They'd truly shine as stars if they did that. Funny...all of a sudden...the impossible to shut up politically correct Hollywood, went silent.
The city is underwater to the tune of a billion and half dollars at least. People are losing their jobs right and left and this moron thinks that it is the obligation of the city ie the taxpayers to pay for MJ's funeral and compared it to the presidency? What? Additionally, chastised his staff for soliciting money to help defray expenses. I don't know politics or the heirarchy of things, but is there some one above the philandering whore that can over ride him. The sales tax in LA is at nearly 10 %. If I was living in LA right now, struggling to pay my bills, I think it simply time to cash in the chips. God help us all if this guy has the same devil spawn that ends up in politics and any other position of power.
And, while I have so much empathy for MJs children, if the rest of his family had any class, they would have stepped up and paid the mere pennies it would be to them to cover the costs. Additionally, the cheap, elitest Hollywood types who entertain me yet I still can't stand, would certainly be looked upon more favorably if they pitched in. Truly, a couple of bucks is what it would amount to for 100 of the most visible. They'd truly shine as stars if they did that. Funny...all of a sudden...the impossible to shut up politically correct Hollywood, went silent.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Memories...light the corners of just about everything
My friend Kristi thinks that I'm somehow connected to everyone on the planet. Here's the plain truth. I have this crazy memory for details. They can be important or insignificant, and if the topic involves numbers, it's usually stuck in my head for good.
So, I remember the names of people whom I met in passing at nearly every instant of my life. I remember friends of friends and boyfriends of friends whom I'm sure would never remember me. No significant event needs to happen either. It's just the way my head works, to no fault of my own.
One evening at Kristi's, we were hooked on the most guilty pleasure of all, The Millionaire Matchmaker. It was better than that. The Millionaire Matchmaker Marathon. By about the 10th epsiode, I recognized a guy that a friend of mine dated in junior high school. I met him one time. Kristi, I'm sure, thought I was on drugs, until he started spouting details that I already knew and said out loud before he did.
In college, I was often able to close my eyes, and picture my notes, color coded of course, to recall the data for the final. It wasn't that I necessarily remembered the material, it's just that I memorized what my notes looked like. I have a confession...remember in that blog, a few ago, in which I spoke of the A+ I received in a physics class. Here's the truth. I memorized the practice quizes and homework sets so at test time, all I did was repeat the solutions with the new numbers. I still understand nothing about that silly, elusive charge always labeled "q", but at final time, I memorized the practice final and regurgitated the answers, simply calculating off the new parameters offered that day.
I remember almost every birthday of everyone whom I ever knew. And, I remember their kids birthdays too. If I heard it once, it gets stuck in my head. Then, I end up in conflict. Come birthday of said party, do I call and wish them a happy day, or do I appear like a stalker with an overinterest in an acquaintance's life, someone whom I no longer have regular contact with? Do people like to hear from their pasts on their birthday? Or are those chapters closed and required to stay that way? I call my dear friend, Lori every year on her birthday. This is my longest friend and by my calculation, that's 36 phone calls. I now call her on my birthday too, to remind her to call me. I don't get hurt feelings anymore, now that I know that most people don't have this affliction.
I have emotional memory too. That's a term that Kristi used the other day and I thought it was perfect. I can remember exactly how I felt on a certain day, so vividly that I can relive it many years later. It's not like remembering feeling happy or sad. It's more that my entire state can become that state again while recalling or reminiscing about a certain event.
I'm sure my family, (read Husband) HATES my memory. I try not to use it for evil causes but honestly, who can resist the temptation of relaying every detail and punctuation mark of a conversation from eight years ago, when you know it projects you in a beam of light? (read I was right, he was wrong.)
So, I remember the names of people whom I met in passing at nearly every instant of my life. I remember friends of friends and boyfriends of friends whom I'm sure would never remember me. No significant event needs to happen either. It's just the way my head works, to no fault of my own.
One evening at Kristi's, we were hooked on the most guilty pleasure of all, The Millionaire Matchmaker. It was better than that. The Millionaire Matchmaker Marathon. By about the 10th epsiode, I recognized a guy that a friend of mine dated in junior high school. I met him one time. Kristi, I'm sure, thought I was on drugs, until he started spouting details that I already knew and said out loud before he did.
In college, I was often able to close my eyes, and picture my notes, color coded of course, to recall the data for the final. It wasn't that I necessarily remembered the material, it's just that I memorized what my notes looked like. I have a confession...remember in that blog, a few ago, in which I spoke of the A+ I received in a physics class. Here's the truth. I memorized the practice quizes and homework sets so at test time, all I did was repeat the solutions with the new numbers. I still understand nothing about that silly, elusive charge always labeled "q", but at final time, I memorized the practice final and regurgitated the answers, simply calculating off the new parameters offered that day.
I remember almost every birthday of everyone whom I ever knew. And, I remember their kids birthdays too. If I heard it once, it gets stuck in my head. Then, I end up in conflict. Come birthday of said party, do I call and wish them a happy day, or do I appear like a stalker with an overinterest in an acquaintance's life, someone whom I no longer have regular contact with? Do people like to hear from their pasts on their birthday? Or are those chapters closed and required to stay that way? I call my dear friend, Lori every year on her birthday. This is my longest friend and by my calculation, that's 36 phone calls. I now call her on my birthday too, to remind her to call me. I don't get hurt feelings anymore, now that I know that most people don't have this affliction.
I have emotional memory too. That's a term that Kristi used the other day and I thought it was perfect. I can remember exactly how I felt on a certain day, so vividly that I can relive it many years later. It's not like remembering feeling happy or sad. It's more that my entire state can become that state again while recalling or reminiscing about a certain event.
I'm sure my family, (read Husband) HATES my memory. I try not to use it for evil causes but honestly, who can resist the temptation of relaying every detail and punctuation mark of a conversation from eight years ago, when you know it projects you in a beam of light? (read I was right, he was wrong.)
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
I'm an unlicensed MD
I'm medically curious. I can't help it. I can't stand to think there's a disease, a procedure, a condition, or an affliction that I don't truly understand. I am best friends with WebMD. I have enough knowledge to be truly dangerous. Going back to previous thoughts...my frienship with the internet...I "Google" every medically related topic I can think of. I don't even know why I do this, and it doesn't even have to be a condition of MINE. All I need to do is hear about it and I get that panicy feeling until I've consulted my sources. Maybe this is a form of OCD...maybe psychosis...ok, at least nerosis. You see what happens. I'm like a junkie needing a fix. My friend Annette calls me for my unlicensed medical advice. She knows, that if I DON'T know the answer, I'll be looking it up in mere moments. And then all the related topics.
Yet, I could have never been a doctor. I hated the lab classes. I avoided them like the plague (another disease) until I could no longer hide. It's pretty tough to avoid lab classes when you are at UCSD as a Biology major with an emphasis in Biochemistry. So, here's what I did. I opted for the least invasive class I could. It was called Biochemical Techniques. It didn't involved fetal pigs or pregnant frogs. There was no cutting involved at all. All we had to do, was mix chemicals and chart the results. Simple enough. Here's what happened during that quarter in hell! I barely survived. I hated that class and whined and complained every Tu/Th for 10 weeks. I hated washing those beakers and felt entitled to a lab assistant to do it for me. I never cared enough to get all the soap out so while everyone else's "product" - (that's what they called the result of mixing chemicals) turned orange, mine would be black. If they got black, mine would be clear. If their chart was a straight line up, mine was some sort of parabolic arc. Thank goodness for the written final. It saved me. Honestly, the difference between a ml or 2 mls...not enough for me to lose sleep over. But it was five hours, twice a week and that was just for prep. Then, you had to come back at some ungodly, dark hour, lurking through the building to check your results. I was scared to death every time I had to walk across that dark plaza, past the big fountain and into the catacombs of hell that they called Biochem Techniques.
How did we ever survive without the internet? I don't know if I have a single thought that I don't run by my sources. How's that for conviction?
Yet, I could have never been a doctor. I hated the lab classes. I avoided them like the plague (another disease) until I could no longer hide. It's pretty tough to avoid lab classes when you are at UCSD as a Biology major with an emphasis in Biochemistry. So, here's what I did. I opted for the least invasive class I could. It was called Biochemical Techniques. It didn't involved fetal pigs or pregnant frogs. There was no cutting involved at all. All we had to do, was mix chemicals and chart the results. Simple enough. Here's what happened during that quarter in hell! I barely survived. I hated that class and whined and complained every Tu/Th for 10 weeks. I hated washing those beakers and felt entitled to a lab assistant to do it for me. I never cared enough to get all the soap out so while everyone else's "product" - (that's what they called the result of mixing chemicals) turned orange, mine would be black. If they got black, mine would be clear. If their chart was a straight line up, mine was some sort of parabolic arc. Thank goodness for the written final. It saved me. Honestly, the difference between a ml or 2 mls...not enough for me to lose sleep over. But it was five hours, twice a week and that was just for prep. Then, you had to come back at some ungodly, dark hour, lurking through the building to check your results. I was scared to death every time I had to walk across that dark plaza, past the big fountain and into the catacombs of hell that they called Biochem Techniques.
How did we ever survive without the internet? I don't know if I have a single thought that I don't run by my sources. How's that for conviction?
Monday, June 15, 2009
Lists and lists of lists
Have you ever realized how it seems much more likely to get something done if you can go through the ritual of physically checking it off a list?
Even though I know what I have to do, I am much more likely to do it and much less likely to procrasitinate if I actually write it down and cross if off.
I'm not fully evolved. I'm an old pen and paper girl. I tried keeping track of the things I need to do electronically through Outlook and even more primatively on an early Palm Pilot. The sheer idea of having to go to a device for my list, somehow leaves me cold. It won't surprise you to know that I keep an actual datebook as well. I prefer the one that starts in August, I think they call it an Academic Calendar and I love the month view. I like my scribbles and my notes and I don't need free wi-fi to know who I'm having lunch with. I'm getting a little romantic for an Iphone but I won't sacrifice my current cell service with Verizon for AT&T. No offense AT&T, just doesn't have as wide coverage. When AT&T and Apple severe the bond, I might be in.
But here's the funny thing. I can't live without my laptop and an internet connection. I research my every thought just to know if I'm right. My eight year old swears that a dophin is a whale. I'm sure he's right as he usually is about such things, so as soon as I am finished here, I will do the next two things on my list:
1. Look up the relationship between whales and dolphins
2. Research the length of the AT&T contract with Apple, so I can get the Iphone.
Even though I know what I have to do, I am much more likely to do it and much less likely to procrasitinate if I actually write it down and cross if off.
I'm not fully evolved. I'm an old pen and paper girl. I tried keeping track of the things I need to do electronically through Outlook and even more primatively on an early Palm Pilot. The sheer idea of having to go to a device for my list, somehow leaves me cold. It won't surprise you to know that I keep an actual datebook as well. I prefer the one that starts in August, I think they call it an Academic Calendar and I love the month view. I like my scribbles and my notes and I don't need free wi-fi to know who I'm having lunch with. I'm getting a little romantic for an Iphone but I won't sacrifice my current cell service with Verizon for AT&T. No offense AT&T, just doesn't have as wide coverage. When AT&T and Apple severe the bond, I might be in.
But here's the funny thing. I can't live without my laptop and an internet connection. I research my every thought just to know if I'm right. My eight year old swears that a dophin is a whale. I'm sure he's right as he usually is about such things, so as soon as I am finished here, I will do the next two things on my list:
1. Look up the relationship between whales and dolphins
2. Research the length of the AT&T contract with Apple, so I can get the Iphone.
Hard Times - Hard Questions
I find that during difficult times, the truth is told. Suffice it to say, I sent 2008 out with a "see you, wouldn't want to be you" sentiment.
Here are several things I learned...
Strength comes from the least expected places.
Friendships prove themselves under the weight of the world.
Even those who appear strongest, need help at times.
Those whom you thought you could count on, often crack under pressure.
Fair weathered friends are sometimes just not equipped to handle life's challenges, but it doesn't make them evil.
When you have a life preserver floating next to you, in the form of a dear friend, or a kind stranger, you generally don't need to use it. But, knowing it's there, is often enough to keep you from drowning.
It's imperative to thank EVERYONE who pitches in, in whatever manner they are able.
If you are lucky enough to be alive, you still have to live, have fun and enjoy the gifts of the day.
No stressing allowed on Friday through Sunday. Stress deserves a weekend too.
Here are several things I learned...
Strength comes from the least expected places.
Friendships prove themselves under the weight of the world.
Even those who appear strongest, need help at times.
Those whom you thought you could count on, often crack under pressure.
Fair weathered friends are sometimes just not equipped to handle life's challenges, but it doesn't make them evil.
When you have a life preserver floating next to you, in the form of a dear friend, or a kind stranger, you generally don't need to use it. But, knowing it's there, is often enough to keep you from drowning.
It's imperative to thank EVERYONE who pitches in, in whatever manner they are able.
If you are lucky enough to be alive, you still have to live, have fun and enjoy the gifts of the day.
No stressing allowed on Friday through Sunday. Stress deserves a weekend too.
Posting that profile photo - and insights
So, help me out here. I keep trying to post that profile photo and every time, it crashes my computer and blows my internet connection. Happens this way with Facebook too. I can't figure out why.
"Here's what you gotta do" This is how most of my thoughts begin. I'm not so arrogant to think that anything I have to say is of interest to anyone else, but if you are here, you are searching for if nothing more, fun conversation. So here are some insights into me. Do any of you agree with the following?
I think it's strange to post your every move on Facebook. I have maybe 7 "friends". I only join to keep up with my nearest and dearest "invitations", and I have to admit that it's been fun reconnecting with some old high school buds. In fact, it was rumored that one of those people was dead and it turns out, he's alive and well and posting on Facebook. But truly, when I open my page now and then and I see what someone did 10 minutes ago, I somehow find that strange and it's usually something rather mundane like "washed the dishes". Whew!! There's some Earth Shattering news.
I'm a bargain hunter, but I'm not cheap. Simply challenged by the economy. I just don't want to pay more for what I could get for less with a little extra effort during these tough times. I like to believe it's one for our team.
I'm challenged by the Secret. I read it. I re-read it. And I'm having a hard time understanding the "like attracts like" principal. I'm no physicist, but I went to a fairly respectable school (UCSD), I majored in biology...I got an A+ in Physics - Elecricity and Magnetism...and what I recall is that Opposites attract, and Like forces repel. So, fill me in...what am I missing? Nonetheless, I visualize the future...mine includes but is not limited to monetary wealth and I'm still not realizing the results. Not at all like the folks on Oprah.
I TiVO Oprah and Dr. Phil every day. I'm not really interested in what they have to say, but more their guests. And not the Hollywood types. I delete those shows, mostly, before I ever watch them. The real people with real lives and real courage. Those are the ones I hang my hat on. I'm always amazed at the strength of the most ordinary people. I admire them. But what Gail thinks is the country's best hamburger...about as much interest as the Facebooker washing the dishes.
"Here's what you gotta do" This is how most of my thoughts begin. I'm not so arrogant to think that anything I have to say is of interest to anyone else, but if you are here, you are searching for if nothing more, fun conversation. So here are some insights into me. Do any of you agree with the following?
I think it's strange to post your every move on Facebook. I have maybe 7 "friends". I only join to keep up with my nearest and dearest "invitations", and I have to admit that it's been fun reconnecting with some old high school buds. In fact, it was rumored that one of those people was dead and it turns out, he's alive and well and posting on Facebook. But truly, when I open my page now and then and I see what someone did 10 minutes ago, I somehow find that strange and it's usually something rather mundane like "washed the dishes". Whew!! There's some Earth Shattering news.
I'm a bargain hunter, but I'm not cheap. Simply challenged by the economy. I just don't want to pay more for what I could get for less with a little extra effort during these tough times. I like to believe it's one for our team.
I'm challenged by the Secret. I read it. I re-read it. And I'm having a hard time understanding the "like attracts like" principal. I'm no physicist, but I went to a fairly respectable school (UCSD), I majored in biology...I got an A+ in Physics - Elecricity and Magnetism...and what I recall is that Opposites attract, and Like forces repel. So, fill me in...what am I missing? Nonetheless, I visualize the future...mine includes but is not limited to monetary wealth and I'm still not realizing the results. Not at all like the folks on Oprah.
I TiVO Oprah and Dr. Phil every day. I'm not really interested in what they have to say, but more their guests. And not the Hollywood types. I delete those shows, mostly, before I ever watch them. The real people with real lives and real courage. Those are the ones I hang my hat on. I'm always amazed at the strength of the most ordinary people. I admire them. But what Gail thinks is the country's best hamburger...about as much interest as the Facebooker washing the dishes.
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