Author Archives: Birdzwordz

iphone

I just got my first iphone. Late to the party, I know. When I emailed my friends with the phone number, one sent back a quick note, “it will change you life.” If I believed that, I would have gotten one years ago. Only two things qualify as potential life changers for me:

1) winning the powerball jackpot or 2) meeting the right guy. Can the iphone help with either of those things? (Mention online dating, and I flush this thing down the toilet).

Honestly, I hate talking on the phone. I’m fine face to face, but on the phone, I’m hopelessly boring. No, really, I’ve been told this before. The problem is that I cannot think of a single thing to say. It’s like a pop quiz. Even if I did the reading, the pressure of the moment makes my mind go blank. When I have to make a call, I write a script to remember why I dialed in the first place. I do this even when calling my family.

So, why did I get an iphone? Actually, I didn’t. My boss gave me his “old” 64GB iphone 4s with the understanding that I would use it. Pretty nice hand me down, but because I’m a contract employee, I foot the monthly bill for minutes, and since I knew I wouldn’t be gabbing away on it anytime soon, I let the thing collect dust. After three weeks, my boss asked about it. That’s when I got the new SIM card. Ten days later he asked again, and now I burn $50 per month while the iphone bumps around the bottom of my purse.

I’ve been testing ways to bond with it. I enjoy the compass feature (for about 90 seconds after I’ve calibrated my location). I considered creating a reminder to call and check in with friends and family once a month, but why set myself up for such predictable failure? Instead, I have resolved to develop a relationship with my iphone through apps hoping that some gizmo I download will meld my standoffishness into dependency, but after hearing all the hype over how great apps are, I’m disappointed to find that most are useless. Why would I need a shopping app? I’m too uncoordinated for games. “To Do” list organizers are BORING, and calorie counters? Depressing.

After Googling “best” apps, here are the ones I’ve chosen:

*Facebook: Duh.

*Flashlight: huge points or being massively practical, but haven’t used it yet

*Bring Fido: the pet friendly info would be more helpful if it wasn’t so outdated

*Kindle: not loving reading on a really tiny screen

*Embark: for navigating NYC. To help me ft in with the zombie tourist mob.

*WordPress: Things are looking up! This pocket sized personal computer disguised as a telephone might be useful after all 🙂

Evolving or Moulting?

What do Princess Diana, Thomas Edison, Ben Franklin, Walt Disney, Sir Richard Branson, Charles Dickens, and Elton John all have in common? Each one of them dropped out before finishing high school, but none of them needed support from Nutrisystem, Tony Robbins, or Garmin to figure out what direction to go in life. How did they evolve into the leagues of the world renowned? People write books, lead lectures, and create reality television shows about the secrets of success, but the real secret is that each path is different.

People change. At least, I believe they are supposed to change as the years slip by. My favorite things to eat as a kid were bacon double cheeseburgers, ice cream sundaes, and donuts. As a teen, I added cheap beer and tequila shots to the list. I played sports through high school, but in college, nothing interrupted my social (drinking) schedule. I developed a temper and felt awful most of the time. Twenty years later, I’m a vegetarian. I don’t drink, and I’ve run three marathons. People find out that I don’t smoke or ingest alcohol or eat meat, but I do run 26 miles for fun and they conjure images of me as a baby knawing on brocolli stalks and running laps around the crib refusing to believe that I wasn’t always this way.

In my case, transformation began as an experiment. By senior year in college, I was actively searching for ways to feel less like crap. To quit staying out until 3am at the bar every night would have been too much to ask, so I gave up fast food. It was amazing how much one small adjustment helped. That step became permanent and the process continued until I subsisted almost entirely on plant matter.

Other issues were handled in a similar fashion:

Problem: 8 hour desk job = extra pounds.

Solution: Tried the gym, didn’t like it. I had friends who jogged, so…after a few weeks, I could shuffle along (I wouldn’t call it running) for three miles, and the pounds started coming off. My sister suggested we run a marathon. I thought she was crazy, but signed on anyway. A year later, I ran across the finish line of my first 26.2 mile race ready to sign up for another. I took to running like I took to eating vegetables. Both did a lot of good with little downside.

My motivation to succeed came from a desire to unearth a better version of myself. But was I evolving or moulting? Did my changes come about because I was expanding into a better version of myself? Or had I begun to shed old layers of crud?

At certain age, we all find ourselves lacking (too ugly, too dumb, too clumsy) and start trying to cover up the bad with clothes or make up, by drinking or smoking, with over eating or under eating, or by trying on identities like Halloween costumes (I’m a jock, I’m a brain, I’m a diva) only to reach a point in life when the costumes don’t fit anymore. Whatever we’ve used to hide our true selves needs to be cast off to find the person we rejected so many years before.

Not everyone gives up fast food and ends up vegetarian. Not everyone starts exercising and becomes a marathoner, and not everyone can be Walt Disney, but everyone has a true self, a better version of you inside that needs to be visited, checked in on, touched base with, tweeted, or IM’d once in a while because that person holds the secrets to success.

10 Things…

 

Inspired by the movie “10 Things I Hate About You” (Julia Stiles, Heath Ledger, Joseph Gordon-Levitt), I’ve created my own 10 things list:

 

 

I hate it when you lie.

 

I hate that I let you, instead of asking why

 

 

I hate that you left, and went far away.

 

I hate that nothing I said could make you stay.

 

 

I hate that you bring out my worst when you’re near,

 

I hate acting like a brat, but still wish you were here.

 

 

I hate that you won’t talk, or reply when I write,

 

I hate being alone night after night.

 

 

I hate that it’s all decided, and I don’t get a vote.

 

I hate that you will never read what I wrote.

 

Hollow Chocolate Bunnies

Have you ever had a conversation with a person who manages to turn every topic around to be about him/herself? No matter how skillfully you steer the conversation, this person continually reminds you that he/she is the center of the universe. I call this person, “The Hollow Chocolate Bunny” (HCB): a perfectly molded exterior with nothing inside.

HCB aren’t filled up by things like close friends, knowledge, adventures, life lessons, and the most important aspects of self: self sacrifice, selflessness, and self effacement.

HCBs are victims of excess. They may be excessively attractive or excessively wealthy. Perhaps they are only children excessively fawned over by their parents-whatever the trigger, HCBs are showered with so much praise and adoration that they eat, drink, and sleep their own awesomeness. They end up brainwashed into believing that everyone else on earth is meant to revolve around them.

HCBs are surrounded by the subservient (HCB wanna be’s) telling them what they want to hear, so they have no incentive or drive to discover how to earn love and attention which makes the gift of their “specialness” truly a curse. Because no one can be honest with them, they have no real friends. Because the only topic they understand is themselves, they have no real knowledge. Because they are nothing more than a hollow shell, the only thing they can truly feel is emptiness.

Bad skin, modest bank accounts, large noses, mediocre careers, crooked teeth, and lack of charm introduce average Americans to the struggle through awkwardness, insecurity, doubt, stress, and self loathing. Facing the low points, learning to handle them, and figuring out how to get noticed and earn love and respect are rights of passage. The culmination of good and bad experiences fills up the space inside and provides a healthy foundation allowing non-HCBs to care about more than their own DNA. Still, next to the obvious perfections of an HCB, anyone might initially feel lacking. HCBs can get a long way in the superficial circles of American society, but a side by side comparison with an HCB is like the ad comparing the ipad to a windows tablet. The windows tablet displays all its additional features, and the ipad asks, “Do you still think I’m pretty?”

So, the next time you are stuck talking to an HCB (and I know you’ll be thinking “OMG! Hollow Chocolate Bunny!!!”), remember to appreciate your unique filling and try steering them toward an HCB wanna be, or if that fails, a mirror.

Insights on Love From my Resume

 

I’ve had a lot of jobs, but I’ve never been fired from one. Each time I choose to leave (and my boss tries to convince me to stay), I feel a little guilty, but I also know it is time to move on. Sounds like a guy ending a relationship, doesn’t it? I thought so too, which is how I matched up my relationship heartbreaks with reasons I’ve given for leaving behind perfectly good jobs…

 

Guy’s perspective on the end of the relationship: It was never meant to be a long term thing

 

The job I left for this reason: packing and shipping

 

 

Guy’s perspective: We’ve outgrown each other

 

Job I left: Retail

 

 

Guy’s perspective: My plans are in motion. We could’ve been great together, but I have to go.

 

Job I left: Moved back East instead of taking bank job in San Francisco

 

 

Guy’s Perspective: You demand too much of my time & put too much pressure on me.

 

Job I left: Accounting

 

 

Guy’s Perspective: I don’t get you. I never know what’s coming. This is too stressful.

 

Job I left: Juvenile Detention

 

 

Guy’s Perspective: It used to be mellow and fun, but now we fight all the time.

 

Job I Left: Non-Profit

 

 

Now, if I can just find the right job, then maybe there is hope that the right guy is be out there, too….

 

The Safe Choice

      When I bought my first new car, I knew exactly what I wanted. My dream car was expensive and entirely impractical. So, I test drove the safe, sensible car. I haggled over the car with good gas mileage, four doors, and trunk space. When the only available color in the standard sedan was gray, I should have recognized my mistake and walked away, but I convinced myself that the price was right, and I bought it.

      Six years later, the car that was meant to take me where I needed to go without complaint, died. The collective jaws of my friends, neighbors, and coworkers dropped. Everyone insisted the car should have lasted over ten years. This was not supposed to happen. I didn’t love the car, but it was the safe choice. The practical, reliable car meant to make my life easier kicked the bucket right after the warranty expired.

      I was left in need of another car. I could have purchased another middle of the road sedan (albeit a different brand, of course), but I decided to change tack and take a peek at used models of the car I had originally wanted but never looked at because I couldn’t justify a two door convertible that barely had room for groceries. I found a model from the prior year that had been a dealer’s test drive car. It had low mileage, no frills, was in my price range, and the color? Christmas Ribbon Red. Six years later, my dream car drives perfectly. I love it. I wish I’d realized sooner that the safe choice isn’t always right.

      Reasonable, rationale, and prudent choices are important. I make a lot of them everyday. I rely on sensible shoes. I eat sensible foods. I try to go to bed and wake up at a sensible hour. Playing it safe reduces risk, and can be beneficial, but as I’ve learned the hard way, the practical answer can also reduce (or eliminate) joy. Finding equilibrium between the safe choice and the choice that will make you happy in order to end up at the best option is important.

      Decisions are motivated by love and/or fear. I wear sensible shoes because I fear falling on my face or twisting my ankle in high heels (that would otherwise make my legs look amazing). Also, being comfortable trumps my need to look good. I choose to go to bed at a decent hour because I fear being exhausted the next day, and I love my bed. I eat sensible foods because I enjoy the taste of fresh vegetables and because I fear the reaction my body has to junk food.

      But when faced with a new opportunity, I keep an eye out for ways to indulge a more speculative option; to experience the joy that otherwise sensible judgements don’t offer. I’ve found that my impractical car makes driving to my practical job much more fun, and sometimes taking off for the weekend with friends when I really should be tackling my to do list makes it easier to face those chores next time. Veering from the expected when it really counts is a departure from ordinary to extraordinary, and by testing the waters of the whimsical, the frivolous, the foolish, and the experimental, you might discover something unexpected makes a lot of sense.

Vermont Marathon

  Last spring, to help raise money for a non-profit, I ran two legs of a relay in the Vermont marathon. I love to run, and a big race gets me really charged up. Though I was only slotted to run the third and fourth leg (not the entire 26.2 mile race), I have completed three other full marathons, so I went to bed with images of breezing through my miles, handing off the baton, and accompanying our final runner to the finish.

The shuffling of other runners woke me at 5:30am. I hadn’t slept much, and seeing snow on the ground out the window almost sent me right back to bed, but by 6:30am we were driving the 45 minutes across slick winding roads up to Burlington. We gathered near the start 20 minutes before the gun. One of the great things about the Vermont marathon is that the course is designed to loop back through a central area. As a result, spectators can stay put and watch the runners pass through downtown again and again. Only one section loops way out and doesn’t double back through downtown. That was the leg where I would finish. As a result, I needed a shuttle bus to bring me back into downtown after I’d completed my miles. It was a miserable day. Hopping from one foot to the other to keep warm, I watched the initial runners set off in a light rain. Someone discarded a plastic garbage bag that had been keeping them dry, and as the rain came down harder, I put it on. The temperature was 38 degrees.

I cheered from the sidelines along a street filled with shops and restaurants. The crowd was enormous. People stood crammed together on the sidewalk and also packed into every business establishment. I wedged myself right up against the metal police barricade in order to have a front row view, but I quickly became cold, and returned to my car early to prepare. I peeled off my soaking wet (formerly waterproof?) jacket and considered my layers: sports bra, wicking long sleeve shirt, wicking short sleeved shirt, and heavy duty wicking full zip jacket. I would need them all. I could have used a hat and gloves too, but it was too late to find any. Adding my plastic garbage bag as weather repellent, I stretched out and headed to the checkpoint to await the start of my 12.5 mile journey.

Runner after runner passed, but I didn’t see a familiar face or a familiar race bib. The cold and wet seeped back in as the crowd of runners awaiting their teammates increased. I had little room to move and more than once someone pushed me into the street as they moved through the crowd behind me. After waiting for nearly 30 minutes, the hand off finally took place, but my legs felt heavy, awkward, stiff. My back and arms ached. It was a bad start. Today tennis or shuffleboard seemed a more sensible way to spend my time, but after three miles I settled into the river of runnersflowing down the main boulevard through the cheering crowd. My contentment didn’t last.

We turned off the wide open road and weaved through a narrow trail right alongside the lake. The wind kicked up and seared through my soaked layers. I began again to consider the benefits of ping pong and badminton as other runners elbowed and nudged me into puddles or jumped in front of me breaking my stride and forcing me into the brush. When a girl slightly ahead of me turned and spat on my leg, I was sure my trash bag some how doubled as a cloak of invisibility. After cresting a hill and viewing the swarm of bobbing heads both beyond and behind me, an odd feeling overcame me. I was caught in a tide of 8,000 runners, but in no way did I stand out. In no way was I unique, important, or notable. I felt incredibly small, insignificant, and alone.

In any sport (as in life), negativity is your worst enemy. Once I stared feeling sorry for myself, things went from bad to worse. My whole body hurt, I was nauseated, and my mind began reading mileage markers wrong causing me to think I was in my last mile at least three times. I have run races when all I wanted was food or water, but today nothing was more precious to me than when I handed off the baton with a mere 5 miles to go until the finish line. All I wanted in that moment was to stop running.

I hobbled to the shuttle that would take me back to the center of the race, and collapsed into the first available seat. Now that I had finally stopped running, other needs pressed on me: I needed dry clothes, I needed to lie down, I needed water, I needed to pee. When I looked up, I was stunned to see the man sharing my seat looked nearly identical to another friend of mine who was hard at work nearly 1,000 miles away. I was cold, miserable, lonely, in pain, and the one person I would most like to see wasn’t there, but a doppelganger appeared in his place (probably my mind playing tricks on me again, but at least this time my hallucination was more helpful).

Jerry and I chatted during the bus ride & walked together to the finish area to find his family and my team. He told me that he used to compete in triathlons, but then he got married, had kids, and after doing a single 6.5 mile leg of the race today, he felt more beat up than ever before in his life. Nostalgia for the good old days reflected in his eyes as if it occurred to him for the first time that he would never be a triathlete again. He had a different life now, better in some ways and worse in others, but he was enjoying tackling the new challenges brought on by all the changes.

Talking with Jerry reminded me that no one had forced me to show up and run in the freezing rain. I had been invited to participate, and I ran on behalf of others who could not run, My friends were waiting for me and once we were warm, dry, hydrated, and relaxed, the bad weather and negative experiences would be forgotten. Only our personal victories would remain. I stopped noticing the cold wind and my sore knee (except while navigating stairs), but I did notice the rain had stopped. I also realized that each of the 8,000 runners on the course had her own struggles and challenges in life, each had a reason for lacing up his shoes each day, and each would take something different away at the finish, but not one of us was alone. On this day, especially, we were in it together. Like the snow that covered the hills that morning, we looked identical bunched up in a group, but as individuals, each of us was unique.

Job or Career?

Driving to work today, I was thinking about my “to do “ lists, I have three. A list for each of my two jobs and one for myself. The “to do” lists for work change as tasks are completed, but the one for myself seems to grow endlessly (as the time I have for myself shrinks). My life is built around taking care of other people.

Several years ago, a friend suggested I stop moving from job to job and find a career. At the time, I heard his advice as prompting to become more ambitious, but today I realized there really is a difference between working a job and choosing a career.

Working a job is always about other people’s stuff: other people’s ideas, other people’s dreams, other people’s methods. In each of my two jobs, I show up at work and follow other people’s instructions fulfilling plans laid out by others for others. I get paid to do anything my employers ask of me. That is the job.

A career would still be work, of course, but it would be work that I chose. Whether trained for certain skills, or self-taught, people who have careers identify with their work. They are invested in it, not just for the money, but because they made the choice to be in a certain field. The big benefit in owning that choice is that it changes your perspective from one of working for someone else to working for yourself (even if it is within the context of someone else’s company). Building a career includes following a path to achieve the dream you select for yourself, but first you have to identify what you want.

When I was young, I wanted to be the weather man. But in the 70s, the meteorologists were all weather MEN, no women. I didn’t believe reporting the weather was something I’d ever be allowed to do. Also, I had always gravitated towards doing things for others. Even in sports I played defense-more comfortable addressing what came at me rather than chasing after the goal. My position on the defensive/support side continued into adulthood as I ended up in administrative assistant and customer service positions instead of trailblazer roles (like becoming the first female meteorologist on TV).

Curiously, the most memorable moments in my high school sports career occurred when I found myself way out of position across half field scoring a goal. What a thrill! Looking back now, I can see my mistake. I should have chased that thrill. I should have played more attack. I should have reoriented myself to go after my personal goals rather than always focusing on the dreams of others. But do we become so ingrained in our ways that it becomes impossible to change? Am I an old dog unable to learn new tricks?

Maybe I just need a reminder of how it feels to score a goal. In one of my current jobs, I function as a personal assistant to a pair of life coaches. Interestingly, the choice each made to become a life coach came about as part of post divorce middle aged life changes. They definitely practice what they preach, and the first thing a good life coach always suggests is to write down goals. The follow up involves figuring out how to achieve those goals. As a team, all of the employees on their team get together annually to set company goals. We then check in periodically to update the progress being made towards achieving those goals. Through their teaching and inspiration, I realize this old dog may still be able to learn a few new tricks. It’s not too late to switch from defense to offense or from a job to a career.

Give Jewelry

When I was 14, my  first boyfriend gave me a pink plastic ring. I still have it. Women love jewelry. A ring, a necklace, a bracelet, or earrings, it doesn’t have to be big and sparkly (thought that is nice), and it doesn’t have to be expensive, but when you want us to know you mean it, give jewelry.

Once I received a knife as a gift. That fancy German carving knife may have doubled as a crystal ball because it told my  future, though I couldn’t decipher the message at the time. He selected the knife because it liked it. He wanted it. Very little in our relationship, (as I came to realize later) was about me, and if I had admitted that to myself at the time, I wouldn’t have been so surprised when he stabbed me in the heart a few month later. 

A word of caution: Jewelry is not meant for peacemaking. If you messed up, don’t link that mistake to a permanent object. She may say she forgives and forgets, but with a sparkler always there to remind her of the bad stuff, you may one day need to duck as it flies at your head. Flowers say I’m sorry just as well, and when they die, they end up in the trash along with the negative memory.

Jewelry is for celebration and for deep heartfelt emotions (think engagement ring/wedding band). Jewelry is personal and intimate. We wear it against our skin, and each piece offers the opportunity to tell a story. Then, both the story and the sparkle can be passed on. Our jewelry will be part of the legacy left behind after we have gone.

When you want us to know you mean it, and you want the memory, the emotion, and the sentiment to last, give jewelry.

Walk a Mile with a Six Shooter and a Towel

*Originally written in 2013. Updated for COVID19

Do swimming and firearms have anything in common?  They seem as far flung as any two things can be, but the commonality is the passion people have around each. 

For me, it’s swimming. I love to be in the ocean, or a lake, but I’ll even accept a chlorinated swimming pool in winter. Sometimes I swim with friends, but more often I’m on my own, submerging my body in the cool water, and breathing in relaxation. I swim strokes for exercise, but more often I just float and enjoy the experience. In the water, the worries of the day seem far away. 

Of course, I know plenty of people who don’t swim. Many don’t like the water because it is too cold. Others fear dangerous tides or lurking sea creatures. Some people simply don’t like to get wet. The point is, it is okay to not feel a kinship with the water.  

I’m not a gun person. I don’t hunt. I don’t believe firearms are a good plan for self protection. I translate the 2nd amendment only as a law to allow assembling a militia because I do not believe the founding fathers ever intended individual Americans to possess military style assault rifles. But there are plenty of Americans who believe in guns and their right to own them. Holding a gun, sighting the target, and pulling the trigger must give them a sense of well being similar to my enjoyment of being in the ocean.  

On average 6,000 people drown in the US annually compared to 30,000 people who die from gunshot wounds.

Obviously, statistics comparing drowning versus gunshot deaths are not even in the same league, but I believe it is important to walk a mile in the other pair of shoes to see the big picture. So, here we go:

Let’s imagine in an attempt to save the lives of the 6,000 annual drowning victims, the government has decided to impose swimming restrictions on everyone. Swimming would only be allowed in public pools or designated swimming areas monitored by trained life guards during certain hours, and before being allowed in the water, a swimming test was required. Ridiculous, right? Why should I have to give up swimming wherever and whenever I want just because some careless people drown? I learned to swim as a child, and I know my limits. I’m not going to drown. 

As a society advances, it becomes more complex, and requires more rules and less freedom. Technical advancements break down mores that bind a simpler society. The mere understanding of right and wrong can no longer be relied on to direct human actions. The result is that sacrifices must be endured for the greater good; even if it seems unfair, that is the price each of us needs to pay for everyone to live together in (relative) peace.

Understanding this broader view, I reconsidered the question:

Would I be willing to limit my exposure to an activity that I enjoy in order to save the lives of other who may not do it safely?

Only being allowed to swim at certain times of the day and in designated areas monitored by a lifeguard  feels restrictive and unfair, but I would accept this small sacrifice for a greater good. New laws won’t stop rule breakers who choose to skinny dip unsupervised at midnight, and laws won’t stop illegal weapon exchanges, but that doesn’t mean these laws shouldn’t exist.

Laws are a civilized society’s way of saying, “I can handle (this responsibility), but I’m willing to give up some individual freedom because I’m not so sure about that guy over there.”

Look up from your little pool of water to admire the vastness of the ocean. Really big issues affect more than just you, or the people in your house, or the neighbors on your street. The REALLY BIG issues, like gun violence, affect everyone. Please stay well informed and consider what is best for society beyond personal wants and needs.

No one ever knows if he will need a towel based on a single drop of water.

Since I originally wrote this the COVID-19 pandemic struck, and a debate has raged over wearing masks, socially distancing and local lock downs. Some Americans accepted the need to make sacrifices for the greater good in order to save lives, but a shockingly large portion of the American population fought against all safety measures. As of today, over a million Americans have died of the virus. The infection is spread largely by people refusing to take the simple steps to protect themselves and others. Wearing a mask and staying socially distanced from friends and family is a sacrifice, but it seems like a pretty small one in exchange for saving lives.

I stand by my original conclusion from this blog post written in 2013: Stay informed. Gain a broad perspective. Respect others. And please #wearamask