An Evening of Dumb Moves

How many dumb moves can one person make within a ten minute time period? Let's find out.

Dumb Move #1 - Opening my front door without first looking to see who was knocking after dark.

Dumb Move #2 - Assuming because I live in a small town, it's OK to open the door without looking to see who it is.

Dumb Move #3 - Standing with the door open as the innocent looking late teen/early 20's guy explains his program and need to ask me questions.

Dumb Move #4 - Answering his questions, which included telling him where exactly I work, what I do for a living, how long I've been there, etc. Oh and by the way, that there is no one else at home that he can talk to to ask these same questions.

Dawning realization that I'm making Dumb Moves...

Hmm. I just told this stranger I'm gone all day and that I might live alone. Time to cover myself, "Yeah, my boyfriend lives here too, but he's busy. He's freelances and works here out of the condo all day." (Um, no, that doesn't sound made up at all.) For all you potential stalkers, creepers, etc. out there, I have a big dog, a 6' 4" boyfriend, sleep with a gun under my pillow, and recently obtained my black belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Test me.

It turned out the kid wanted to sell me magazines, and I'm assuming he's not planning on coming back to murder or rob me. Before any of you lecture me, my neighbor took care of that.

Lesson Learned - Always look to see who is knocking before answering the door after dark (or any time really), and never give out personal information to strangers, even in small town nowhere.

Magical Moving Mushrooms

Agaricus Bisporus

I go to the same grocery store for most of my stuff because it's the best deal in town. I also like the fact that I can count on items being in their usual spot each and every visit; with one glaring exception.

Yesterday it took me forever to find my beloved mushrooms, and this isn't the first time. I've decided they move them when they know I'm coming just to mess with me. I swear they're on a different aisle and a different shelf every time. Conspiracy? Or imagination?

Pet Peeve of Mine

Among things that bug me, news headlines that are poorly written. 

Today online at a Spokane news station... 

"Family Attacked by Hammer Asking For Community's Help."  

Really? There is a homicidal hammer on the loose? And it's asking for the community's help? Should I be afraid of other tools as well, or is the hammer working alone?

An Eight Week Agenda

Death has been a theme in my life lately. No, I haven't lost anyone near and dear to me (thankfully), but a few people I know have, and that has prompted conversations one normally wouldn't have with friends and co-workers.  One of the more interesting focused on what we would do if we found out we had only eight weeks to live.

A friend and I, of course, had the standard answer of selling everything we own and doing all the things on our "bucket lists."  Once we had shared what that might include (trips to Rome and New Zealand for example), she paused for a moment and added that a friend of hers had been told he had only eight weeks to live two years ago, and all the bucket list stuff flew out the window. Instead of living it up around the world or going on daring adventures, all he wanted to do was stay at home and simply be with his loved ones. If he couldn't get the transplant he needed, he wanted to spend every waking hour enjoying his last moments on earth surrounded by people he loved, who loved him in return. This made such sense. Why go off and spend your last weeks doing things that didn't include the people you care about? Fortunately, he received the liver he needed and he's still here to enjoy life.

But this made me wonder. If I really only had only eight weeks to live, and if I were really honest with myself, what would I do? If the eight weeks was a sure thing, no transplant on the horizon, no misdiagnosis.  What would I do?

• I'd sell everything I own, and I mean everything. My condo, the contents, my car. Everything. I won't need them in eight weeks. Why not get as much cash as I can for them while I'm here?

• I'd use the cash to travel to each and every friend and family member who is scattered across the U.S. and Paraguay. And if anyone wanted to join me on the journey, so much the better! If they were all located in one place, I'd stay there, but they aren't, so travel I must.

• But before I left on my sojourn, I'd round up everything I've written that was even remotely worthy of being read and every photograph I've taken that touched my soul, and I would have them printed in a book that could be distributed to those I love as part of my legacy. This is who I am...this is who I was. And I'd make darn sure that the best photo ever taken of me was included, so generations from now, someone would know what I looked like as they read my work or admired my photography.

• And if there was any money left at the end of my adventure, I'd see if there was any way I could set up a trust for each of my nieces and nephews with strict stipulations. They would have to take a year off after high school, travel somewhere outside the U.S., volunteer their time for at least six months, not get married or have children during that year, and learn another language. If they did all that, and I'm sure I'd think of more "live it up while you're young" things for them to do, then they would get the money from the trust to do with as they pleased.

• Finally, I'd end my journey in Texas. It wouldn't really matter where, as long as it was in my home state (but preferably not West Texas or far South Texas...maybe it does matter). I would want to breathe my last at home, hopefully with at least one or two people who loved me, who were there to hold my hand and wish me well on the next leg of my journey.

So that's what I would do if I found out today, without any doubt, that I only had eight weeks to live. What, dear reader, would you do? I'd really like to know, so e-mail me or comment on this blog.

True Classic - True Grit

Before we begin, let me state first, dear reader, that I'm not a movie critic, nor am I an avid movie buff who knows the ins and outs of moviedom, but I do feel led to comment on one I saw today.  My mom and I took a little break from life and went to see the remake of True Grit on the advice of friends and co-workers.

Normally I'm not a big fan of remakes if the original is a classic. Why mess with a good thing? I've never understood the need to take something beloved by many and redo it, sometimes to the point of being unrecognizable. It seems lazy. But today's remake was the rare exception.

I went in with an open mind, hoping for the best and having not seen the original in many years. I had it on good authority that this remake was one worth viewing, so my hopes were high. I was not disappointed. What made it even better, I went home and immediately watched the original version. Nothing against Mr. Wayne, an American icon to be certain, but the new version improved upon the old. It took away bits that were unnecessary, changed things that needed to be, and casting was dead on.

But I think what struck me most about the revamped version, what I most admired on the part of the actors and directors, was the ability of the actors to convey so much in subtle gestures or facial expressions. All it took sometimes was a look, a nod, a hand twitch for the audience to know exactly what was going through the character's mind. Subtle, and everyone got it. There was no need to overdo a scene or explain what was meant. They gave us credit for being intelligent people who would get it. That seems to be missing from so many movies and television shows these days.

Often I'll watch something and wonder why the creators, the writers, the directors think the American public is so simple that we won't get the subtleties they give us. Why do they feel the need to follow a brilliant scene with something that diminishes it by blatantly explaining what we just saw? Give us credit. We get it. So when a movie like True Grit comes along and the actors are allowed to really show how good they are at their craft, we appreciate it. This is why I'm hearing about the movie from so many people.

And there you have it, dear reader, my first movie recommendation on my blog. If you don't like westerns, you should give this one a try. If you're not a big Jeff Bridges fan, look past it. If you think two hours is too long to sit in a theater, OK, I'll give you that one, but you must see it when it's available on On Demand or DVD.

Live It Again Moments

It's a new year, dear readers, and rather than give you a list of resolutions I'll likely never keep, I thought it would be fun to take a stroll down memory lane and tell you the ten things I wish I could experience for the first time again. We all have those moments, those experiences, those feelings that were so amazing, they can only be felt that way once.  And so, after much thought, and in no particular order, here are my...

Top 10 Wish-I-Could-Live-It-Again Moments

• Staying up late, watching really bad, black and white, scary movies as a kid - The thrill of staying up past my bedtime on a Saturday night, struggling to keep my eyes open until the closing credits, and being scared by zombies was awesome.

• Taking a road trip alone in Texas at night - I felt like I had discovered the secret to losing all stress, and quite possibly have never been so relaxed as an adult.  My hair was a mess and I didn't care.  My car was iffy on making the trip and I didn't care.  My bank account was low and I didn't care.  I was young and just didn't care about much.

• The wonder of snow - White stuff fell from the sky and the first time I remember seeing real snow, I was mesmerized.  I felt as if I had stepped into an old movie, one in which people sang about their feelings and danced for no good reason. It was magical.

• Riding a bicycle - For the first time, I had wheels!  OK, so I didn't know how to stop the thing, other than running it into the garage door (after laughing at me, my family showed me how to use the breaks), but the freedom I experienced was great.  I could go places!

• Singing in front of a crowd - There is nothing so thrilling as singing in front of a group of people, but doing it for the first time, was electrifying. I made people smile simply by opening my mouth. That was a first. Usually opening my mouth did the opposite.

• Entering and winning my first writing contest - I never expected to place, let alone win; when I did, I was elated. No one outside my trusted circle, not even my family, had read my writing. The rush I felt is hard to explain.

• Buying my first vehicle on my own - The thrill of knowing exactly what I wanted, how much I was willing to pay, and negotiating a lower price than I thought I could was incredible. I left the dealership feeling like I could do anything.

• Getting my first library card - Having a card of my own, with my name on it felt like I had been given the key to the entire library. They may as well have engraved my name above the door because I felt like I owned the place. I could check out anything I wanted without asking my mom to do it for me.

• Owning my first computer - It was the future and I had to be part of it. My first had no hard drive, only 640K of memory, a 5.25" floppy drive, and didn't do much of anything, but I knew it was the beginning of an exciting love affair with technology. 

• Seeing Jaws for the first time - I saw it in a small town in Texas in an outdoor movie theater where we sat in lawn chairs, and I have never been so frightened of something that truly existed. It was awesome. Swimming in the river was never the same again. 

The Influential Fifteen

Recently someone tagged me in a Facebook note about 15 authors who have been influential in his life.  The challenge to me was to quickly think of my own list of 15, and post it in a note while tagging others.  Normally I'm not one to do such, but once I started thinking about who had influenced me and why, it was just too much fun to pass up.  So I did it.  If you're not a friend of mine on Facebook and would like to see my "Influential Fifteen," I've included the list at the end of this post.

As I read the instructions, my immediate reaction was to think that there aren't that many authors who have influenced me.  I mean, sure there are authors whose writing I enjoy, but authors who have truly influenced me in some way?  Well, it turns out there are, and after I posted my list, I thought of more to add.

When completing the task, most people simply listed names; however, the person who sent it to me gave reasons as to why each of his authors made the cut.  I liked this extra bit of insight into his life, so I did it as well. I wish other friends had done the same. To me, it's fascinating to read why someone decided to include William Goldman on his list as the first author. So when I created mine, I did so with much thought about why each author deserved to be there.  Sure, I could have simply created an impressive lineup of "greats" or best sellers, but just in case someone was interested, and also because it was a bit of an exercise in self-discovery, I gave it more than a quick, passing thought.

And so, dear reader, I ask you this, if you love to read, who has influenced you and how or why?  I'd love to see your list. You can post it in a comment or send it to me in an   e-mail. It truly is interesting to reflect on who is swaying us as we wander through life.

Here's my "Influential Fifteen" (in basic order of when they influenced me during my life):

Mother Goose - OK, I know she’s not a real person, but the nursery rhymes written by "Mother Goose" were hugely influential on me, so she makes the list.  My Mother Goose book was the first one I remember truly loving as a child. The nursery rhymes were the first I memorized and learned to read. Thus began my love affair with the written word. 

Theodor Seuss Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss - I mean come on. Who hasn’t been influenced by the good doctor?  I dare anyone to tell me they haven’t quoted one of his books or mentioned one of his characters at some point.  I often create my own written or verbal versions of Green Eggs and Ham to fit the occasion. Dr. Seuss gave me the love of whimsical rhyming. 

Arlene Mosel - She wrote Tikki Tikki Tembo (not to be confused with Rikki-Tikki-Tavi by Rudyard Kipling), a children’s book about a little boy who fell in a well, but almost wasn’t saved because his name was just too long (Tikki Tikki Tembo-No Sa Rembo-Chari Bari Ruchi-Pip Peri Pembo). I'll never forget his name or the book. She took a folktale and showed me how storytelling can be fun and memorable.

Laura Ingalls Wilder - She was one of my first introductions to more grownup reading in third grade and I read all her books voraciously. I loved the adventures of her life and fell in love with idea of writing thanks to her.

Edgar Allan Poe - "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore..."  Yes, at one time I could actually recite all the words to The Raven.  He was one of my first horror author loves, and it all started with Vincent Price movies. Once I found out they were based on the writings of E.A. Poe, I had to read everything he wrote. Thus began a darker twist to some of my young writing, something that would be encourage later by another author.

Dante Alighieri - I’ve been fascinated by The Divine Comedy since I was in middle school. Yes, I was an odd child.  I mean really, what 7th grader wants to read The Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso?  It was beautiful, complicated, difficult, long, and made me think.  I still love it. 

Stephen King - Oh the hours I’ve spent in Mr. King’s twisted worlds. I was a fan from the beginning with Carrie. I wasn’t old enough to see the movie, but that didn’t stop me from reading the book, and every King book that followed, until around 2001.  I haven't been such a fan since that year, but I'm giving him another shot with Under the Dome. He helped me realize it's OK to let your mind wander to creepy, dark places and express it on paper.

Kathleen Woodiwiss - Do not laugh at this one. Yes, I used to read bodice rippers when I was a teen.  Hey, the instructions were to list influential authors, and by golly her writing was influential on my life at the time. I moved from Little House on the Prairie to historical romances with ease.  It’s amazing what you can learn in books.

William Faulkner - This one isn’t because I loved his books or his writing, but simply because I chose him to base my first college English research paper on when given a choice of authors.  It was there that I learned I love to do research, love to write about it, and I’m good at it. The instructions say influential authors, not authors you love to read.

Maya Angelou - I first heard her recite one of her poems at President Clinton’s inauguration (no snide comments please), and immediately was captivated.  I have to admit though that I most enjoy her poetry when she’s reciting it.  She made me want to write poetry again, something I had given up for several years. I now indulge in poetic freedom. 

James Patterson - Mr. Patterson’s books helped me through a few tough years when I really needed a good thriller to take my mind off of things.  He also made me think I wanted to write thrillers, which I can’t do.  I’ll leave it up to him.

John Grisham - Two reasons he made the list.  First, I just like reading his books.  Second, he’s the person who made me realize that your first career choice, isn’t necessarily your last.  You can always follow your heart and become a writer.  

Julia Cameron - No one said they had to be fiction authors. As a writer I have a strong desire to edit as I go and that’s a bad thing.  Ms. Cameron's books encourage artists in general to just let go and let their art flow. I need that reminder now and then.

J.K. Rowling - I didn’t realize young adult fiction could be so enthralling. She’s also another writer who inspired me to keep writing, no matter what my circumstances. 

Marian Keyes - I thought I should just go ahead and confess that I love stories about messed up Irish families. Ms. Keyes makes the list because she reintroduced me, as an adult, to chick lit. I realized it was OK to occasionally indulge, so I do every time she releases a book.

Musica Aeterna

My, what a mixed reaction my last post received.  Some loved it, saying it was inspirational and moved them to take action.  Others told me it was a little too preachy and I should keep my opinions to myself.  It's OK.  I can take it.  I'm not striving to please anyone except myself, but let's see if we can find some middle ground with this post.

I've recently been introduced to the wonderful world of movie soundtracks.  Yes, I knew they existed before and even owned a few, but unless the music in a movie really stood out, I never paid a lot of attention.  Now I do, thanks to a wonderfully geeky discophile in my life.  He's introduced me to music I likely never would have had the opportunity to hear (Perfume - The Story of a Murderer), and has given me music I fell in love with immediately (District 9).  Music has always played an important role in my life, but thanks to him, my horizons have been vastly expanded, and I now hear and feel the music playing in the background of every movie I watch. I notice how it affects the scene, and I understand how it can change the mood.

But after movies have ended, I'm now finding that I want to own many of the soundtracks.  Yes, some of them conjure up images of the movies I enjoyed, but most simply provide outstanding music that works as the soundtrack for my life.  Some songs are perfect for reading, others for writing, some for cleaning house, some for taking photos, and some lull me to sleep when my mind is racing and can't settle at the end of a long day.  There seems to be a soundtrack for every scenario.

Perhaps the best is that lately, I find myself simply sitting with my eyes closed, letting the music flow, conjuring new images and emotions.  It relaxes me, takes my imagination to new places, and allows me to be a little more creative.  There are also times it brings up memories of people from a forgotten or not so forgotten past, and I'm transported to a time that can't be recaptured, but can always be remembered.  The ultimate though, is when I simply drift off, unaware I'm doing so until the music ends and I awaken to silence. 

If you don't pay attention to the music in movies or even some television shows, I encourage you to listen.  And if you really enjoy what you hear, take steps to own some of it.  Let a little instrumental loveliness flow into your life and be the soundtrack for some of your day-to-day activities.  Appreciate what the composers and musicians have created. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to turn off the soundtrack to Pirates of the Caribbean and play a little music from Frost/Nixon.

Making Repairs

Greetings Dear Readers,

I know it's been more than a month since I've updated my blog, and there is simply no excuse.  Well, I have a million of them, but none are valid.  The fact is that I let myself get distracted by other things, such as reaching my goal of writing 50,000 words for National Novel Writing Month and watching some of my favorite shows on TV. If you're still with me and still reading, I hope you recognize this is just how life is and how we are as people.  Even things that are important to us are sometimes set aside in favor of things that are frivolous and fun.

As you know, if you've read my blog for any length of time, I don't really have a focus or specific topic.  Whatever happens to be on my mind at the moment is what I write about.  I considered changing that for the new year, thought maybe I would drag you along with me on a journey in writing a book, but I've decided against it.  For one, I think you'd be bored.  For another, there are times I simply want to share things that are on my mind and have nothing to do with writing; this blog is my personal venue for doing so.  Which leads us to what is on my mind today.  Actually, what has been on my mind for some time.

Relationships.  Whether friends, family, or significant others, relationships are difficult to maintain.  One wrong word, one wrong deed and everything can fall apart.  It can take years to mend and sometimes it can never be mended.  We're supposed to forgive those we love, move beyond the misspoken word or the angry statement, but too often we don't.  We hold on to the perceived wrong, the perceived ugly action and we effectively end what was once a beautiful thing that gave us joy and filled a place in our life.

Why is it so hard for us to give the other person the benefit of the doubt?  Why can we not move past the first transgression?  Why do we sometimes actively look for other transgressions after that first?  I don't have the answers.  I wish I did.  I know we've all been on both sides of the action.  We've all held a grudge and we've all been the victim of someone not giving us a true second chance.

There are several scenarios happening with people I know right now.  All it would take is conversation, forgiveness, and trust for them to regain the happiness they once had.  I don't know if it will ever happen, I can only hope.

An elderly father and his son who had a falling out several years ago haven't spoken, other than the son yelling from his front porch for the father to go away.  What is the issue?  One can only guess about the deeper underlying causes, but the surface story is that it's years of perceived misunderstandings.  The father isn't the most tactful person, and the son isn't the most forgiving.  The son has held on to an early wrong, and he's never moved beyond it.  In fact, every word and deed since that first wrong has been proof that his first judgement of the father was correct.  Now they don't speak.  The father wishes desperately his son would talk to him and let him be part of his life, but the son is having none of it.

Friends haven't spoken in years because one made a selfish decision at a time when things were strained in her life.  One doesn't know how to reach out to the other and ask for forgiveness.  The other doesn't know how to offer forgiveness unasked.  So a friendship built on years of shared secrets, tears, laughter, adventures, and love dissolves.  Over the years they think about each other and the selfish one reaches out, but the other has to forgive and trust has to be given again.

And that's what it comes down to; forgiveness and trust need to be given to the "offending" party.  Not the fake, smile to their face and tell them you forgive them kind, but the real deal; the kind that comes from your heart and the depths of your soul.  It has to be complete forgiveness.  Without forgiveness, trust simply can't follow.  If trust doesn't follow, then all of it is for naught.  But true forgiveness is difficult and sometimes impossible.  Will the son ever forgive his father?  I really hope so.  I can think of nothing more sad than for one of them to die before they've made amends.  Will the friends reconnect so forgiveness can happen?  We'll see.  One has reached out to the other, so perhaps there is hope on the horizon.

So my questions for you, dear readers, are these.  Who in your life do you need to forgive?  Who do you need to extend trust to right now in order to repair a relationship well worth saving?  Who do you need to apologize to or make amends with in order to move toward obtaining forgiveness and trust from them?  Maybe the answer is no one.  Maybe you're one of the lucky few who has perfect relationships.  If so, you are fortunate indeed.  Call or write your friends and family and tell them how much you love and appreciate them.  But if you're like the rest of us and have a relationship in need of repair, take a deep breath and make the move to regain the joy you once had with the person.  Maybe you can't get it back, but if you don't try, you won't know.  What if you take a chance and it works?

NaNoWriMo Approaches

In less than one month, people in various parts of the world will participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).  Just what is NaNoWriMo?  It's one month of writing insanity, in which one attempts to meld 50,000 words into a single document that emerges as a potential novel.  Yes, write an entire 175 page novel during the single month of November.  Can't be done you say?  I beg to differ.  Now I'm not vouching for the quality of said novel, but it is doable.  Just ask the many NaNo "winners" who reach their 50,000 word goal by November 30, yours truly included.

The primary goal of NaNoWriMo isn't to create a quality novel that can immediately be sent off to be picked up as the next best seller and hailed as Oprah's next book club fave.  The goal is to get creatives to put aside their internal editors for a month and just let the words flow.  For me, this is a necessary exercise.  You see, eleven months out of the year I have this compulsive need to edit as I go, which significantly slows my writing progress and often impedes my creativity.  But for one glorious month I actually manage to simply write.  Often this carefree attitude carries on for several more months, resulting in work that is imaginative and simply fun to create.

There's also the added benefit of joining write-ins.  These are weekly gatherings of writers at set locations to bang out as many words as possible for a set period of time.  During our evenings or afternoons together, challenges will be issued and encouragement will be given to keep everyone moving toward their 50,000 word goal.  It's a chance to step out of the everyday and simply focus on what we love, creating worlds with words that will hopefully one day be honed to perfection, then read and enjoyed by others.

If you like to write and have never participated in NaNoWriMo, I encourage you to check it out and give it a try.  Even if you don't actually achieve the 50,000 word goal, you will not regret bonding with some new writing friends as you let go of that blasted internal editor that threatens to doom a perfectly fabulous story.  Care to join me?  Go to the National Novel Writing Month website and check it out.  I'll be there, adding daily to my word count, chiming in on the forums, and moving forward with freedom through a story limited only by my imagination.