ok idiots, enough with the plastic surgery...

i get the idea of plastic surgery for those people that have to have it. life is hard for someone who has been severely burned, lost a breast to cancer, accidents, injured in military service, et cetera and whatever. i get it. i even get someone that is flat-chested wanting to have breasts normal to their frame size. in no way do i confuse them with suzanne sommers or john travolta, ryan o'neal, madonna, or the slew of other idiots running around getting so much plastic surgery that they are completely unrecognizable from who they were, are, meant to be, look like...

suzanne sommers just wrote a book, a best seller, with a stupid title about staying beautiful. but have you seen this crazy b*tch? she doesn't even look like suzanne sommers in the largest stretch of the imagination now. of course, like every other idiotic celeb, she claims she's never had plastic surgery. oh yes, honey, and i've come from the planet venus, walked on mars, and definately am planning on visiting pluto in this lifetime. john travolta's eyes have been stretched so much that he looks like he is permanently playing chinese-japanese. ryan o'neal's mouth looks weird, and madonna looks more like a skeleton with skin pulled over it. (seriously, go see for yourself. i warn you that you may need to be close to a toilet--http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1202475/Madonna-reveals-protruding-muscles-bulging-veins.html) yes, while madonna's face looks "ok-ish", most of us wouldn't be able to pick her out in a crowd (ok, except for that totally nauseating body). these people have taken looking like sh*t to a whole new level.

the truth is that plastic surgery becomes an addiction for some people--just like tattoos and other forms of body modification can. it becomes a contest of who can have the most, look the best, and after a while, the payoff is that they look worse than if they'd have just left it alone. did we not see what an obsession with appearance did to michael jackson? seriously, michael jackson was probably one of the most talented artists of the last century. yet, his self esteem was obviously torn apart in the process. several nose jobs to the point of a thing that didn't even look like a nose. terribly pale white skin that even the whitest white person wouldn't want. if comparing photos of michael from the late 70s/early 80s to the end of the 1990s, we see multiple nose jobs, changes to his cheekbone and jawline structure. he wasn't a bad looking guy in the early 80s. yet by the 90s, he looked more like a plastic doll that had been too close to the stove that our mother tried to mould back so we wouldn't demand a new one. it saddens the heart to see that someone that everything to be proud of--his talent, his abilities, and even his heart--marginalized by some need to look like something that he wasn't.

it's not just celebraties though. we all know someone that went and got ridiculously large boobs just because they didn't seem to get the word "overkill". i knew a woman who got double Ds. three months later, she was whining all the time about her back, and--here's the best part--about how men only talked to her boobs. well, duh, dingbat. was she not listening to the larger chested women around her? nope, she was overcome with envy. she was desperate for attention--positive or negative--from the men around her. worse yet--it didn't change anything really for her. she was still insecure; she was still jealous. men still marginalized who she was. in fact, it bothered her that now she felt like they marginalized her more. the saddest part was that she didn't get that it was what was inside of her, and not any amount of plastic surgery could change that.

i'd argue that it's the plastic surgeons' faults. how can they not be held responsible to say "no" to someone who is looking for all this modification for all the wrong reasons? the counter-argument is, of course, it's the patient's money, and there's another plastic surgeon around the corner that will go ahead and do it--regardless of ethics, morals, patient's mental health. but, let's face it. i'm not much for blaming the other guy. it's personal responsibility. at the same time, how does someone know they don't need it if they don't get it? kunundrum. still, the kunundrum is limited to the idiots that insist on going and getting multiple surgeries--over and over and over--for the desire to look young. does anyone remember the movie "death becomes her"? in the movie, celebs were willing to die, basically become plastic, to maintain their youthful appearance. the downside was if they injured, broke in any way, shape or form, their body, there was no fixing the deformation. they'd live forevrer in the battered version. obviously, hollywood didn't learn from their own parody. sadly, perhaps, a lot of the people around us didn't learn from the pathetic appearance of some of these people. this kunundrum is really of their own making, and there's no fixing it for the people that ventured too far down the path already.

but for those that are thinking about a second or third, or so on and so on, surgery, it's time to step back and look at sally struthers (oh yes she has, no matter what she says), suzanne sommers, madonna, michael jackson, john travolta...and pause. take a deep, deep breath. ask ourselves do we want to be completely unrecognizable? look almost like cartoon characters or walking dead? the answer, i hope, i believe, is no. we don't. we already know the better care that we take of ourselves, the better our appearance. people who work out look more youthful. people who chain smoke almost always age very prematurely. there is a lot of it that is genes. so perhaps, it is easier for me to say, since youthful looking genes run on both sides of my family, but there's a poetic charm to who we are. i'm sure some would still insist on a "niptuck" here or there, but i'd hope they would remember that it's not a requirement for anyone that already loves them. as the saying goes, "youth is overrated and experience is underrated". appearance might get you somewhere, but it will only get you so far. and if that appearance change is as drastic as madonna's, well, you might flip the switch (or the niptuck) to the point that you look absolutely gross. too much of a good thing is definately not a good thing indeed.

a great pause or a whisper in the wind...

as of late, i've been thinking a lot about things that i want to do--but now all of the sudden i'm supposed to make plans for a social/volunteer group. work requires me to be organized, a tad anal, and make sure that i deliver. i have to consider all avenues, options, alternatives--my work life is complicated. it requires thought, planning, expectations. i like it. planning for my boys has been complicated on and off. i'm pretty sure that any parent can say that. kids sometimes require all kinds of planning and sometimes we just take it as it comes. it's simple; it's complicated. it requires organization, but it can still lead to complete kaos. i'm not a big fan of kaos, and being able to shrug it off isn't always easy either. it's been part of the learning curve of raising children--particularly as they have become teenagers. who knew that kaos is a word that depicts teenagers with their angst, their unpredictability, their predicatability, their growth, their storms and even the calm that follows? no word describes teenagers (and their bedrooms) better than kaos. so it probably shouldn't be shocking that i really like the rest of my life to be "take it as it comes". it's just easier, and often more fun, to not pick or choose what i want to do. just go with the flow. planning for others? really, me? it's not that i don't know how--it's that i like the ebb and flow, the surge of energy and the easement in contrast. the responsibility gives me great pause.

honestly, when it's just me, i'll take off here or there. my photos are full of pictures of random places that i just pick out and go to. sometimes i get to see some amazing things as i randomly wander, picking places for their cool names or just because that road looks cooler to the right than the left. i have fantastic stories (or maybe i'm just good at story telling)...regardless, not too many people can say that they just took off down the road one day, riding around the farms of kansas, with no particular goal, no real plan and no location selected on the map. the only requirement was to venture out and enjoy some fresh air. as i came up on a crossroads, in front of me, about a mile up the road, it turned into dirt, to the right was a railroad tracks, and to the left just open-ish road. i made the left and stopped. it was picturesque--not to mention the combine that was about a mile up the road in front of me--taking up the road from white line to white line. even though kansas doesn't have the huge ditches on either side of the road, well, there wasn't much room to get around the farmer as he was trucking down from one field to the next. so i just took a pause. there were a couple of cool looking barns off half a mile or so from two of the four corners. there was a neat little oil drill going on a third, and the fourth had a sea of beautiful yellow wild flowers--like an earth-made sunshine to comfort the acres. i upset the hell out of a red wing blackbird, who took an immediate interest in me who squaked at me like i cared. he finally went quiet, but insisted on sitting just slightly off to the right of me--making sure that i could see him in the corner of my eye--intent on sitting on that overhead wire until i went away. it was a beautiful day, with a light breeze, wild flowers and cattails bristling in the wind. for as perfect as that moment was, the quiet, soft moment with no thoughts other than an appreciation for the grandeur of mother earth, there was more. later, the pictures i posted gave friends a great laugh. in the relaxing moment, i had shot the pictures--of the combine in the distance, of the wild flowers, of the barns and the oil well...never noticing that the road's lines were painted crooked. in the perfection of mother earth, and the farmer that revels and survives because of her good graces, our imperfection shown through--in a crooked road. to me, this was a perfect day.

sharing those perfect days, well, is something that i've never considered really. i love those moments that we get to see the world in its beauty and grandeur--just as i love the foilabilities, the imperfections that make us human. it's a contridiction--an oxymoron. that which is perfect can be beautiful, but so can those things that are so imperfect. friends used to joke how much i used to ride. i'd take off into the smokies, riding my motorcycle, spend the day going to waterfalls or watering holes. oh right, did i leave out that this is about riding motorcycles? oh perhaps, but i like to think that has more to do with finding an appreciation for the beauty of the world around us, the gifts that we overlook on a daily basis, and the wonder of being able to take it all in. it's also equally wonderful to see how we, the human race, have impacted the world. it is not as ugly as some self-appointed nature lovers would think. don't get me wrong--we can add ugly too (but as always, for another blog). there's always a degree of too far this way, or too far that. but as the saying goes, "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". if all we see is ugliness, then what does that say about the beholder?

perhaps this isn't really about the fear that i'm going to miss out on that beauty in the rigidity of plans...i mean some people have no imagination, no vision, and/or can suck the life blood out of anything. but what if they can enjoy a glimpse of what i see? i'm the eternal optimist--life, even when it's been less than blessed for me, has been, as a whole, a wonderful adventure. the ocean is not just a big blue body of water--it's a conglomeration of things to spark the senses, the imagination, the soul. it's the salty taste of the air, the rippling of the waves as they shift in and back out to the beautiful abyss, the sands that slip in between our toes, the seagulls attacking a clam that washed up on the shore, the whispers of the seagrass on the dunes as the atlantic winds shift.

on the other hand, i enjoy people just as much as i enjoy the world around me (ok, most people, but stay with me here anyway). it always amazes me how different God (mother nature, fate, whatever created us) makes us so different, so random, and yet, simply so perfect. we are all oxymorons--admittedly, some bigger than others. i know i'm full of contridictions myself. (i'm pretty sure when looking up the word "oxymoron" in a print dictionary my picture is boldly sitting within the body of the explanation.) but we all are to some degree. it varies. we vary. one of the most ridiculous sayings i know: "how can their children be so different? they come from the same house, the same parents..." hahaha. really? how? yes, i'm sure that we are a mix of our ancestors--grandparents, parents, maybe recessive genes that our uncle so-and-so got, etc. but we are never exactly like anyone else. we are just as amazing as the ocean, the mountains, the air. yet, we often forget how amazing we are--and therefore, often overlook how amazing others are.

all that being stated, i feel much relieved, and even a bit excited, at this new responsibility to "plan" road trips for a motley, wonderful, mish-mash of people that share my love of the road. i can still run off down the road without a crowd and enjoy the flight. but it'll be just as much fun spending time with people, seeing how they view the world, and expanding my horizons--perhaps expanding some of theirs too. one of my favorite sayings is "all we are is all we know". there is no better way to expand what we know than to see the world as another sees it, and when we can see the way others see the world, we know a little more than we did yesterday. all we are is limited by all we know. one of the greatest gifts that we have literally at our fingertips is just getting to know others and how they see the world. it expands what we know--how we view the world. yes, still the added responsibility does give me pause, but if it means that some people get to know others that they might not otherwise, if it means that someone gets to see the world with through someone else's looking glass, if it means that even one person expands their world, their view, their "know", then the pause is not great. it's a soft, whisper in the sound of the wind of the mind.

true sisterhood

this morning i received a fantastic text message from one of my oldest friends. it was super sweet, inspirational, and a reminder to how phenomenal we all are. it made me feel good after reading it, set my morning off to a good start, and of course, i forwarded it to all "my girls" to spread the love. i forwarded it to 32 women--each of whom i think is great. not just because they're my friends, but because each of them are not only dear to me, but are phenomenal women. i realized that there's about another dozen or so that i don't have cell phone numbers for to text this inspiration to. over 40 women in my life are wonderful, great women. i say all the time that "we can never have enough wonderful women in our lives". they not only remind us how great we are and can be, but they remind us how wonderful life is. they listen when we're down, they inspire us to succeed, they share our laughter and our pain, and they accept us for who we are.

i recently read a book called (damn i wish blogger would let me underline) "the twisted sisterhood". it talks about how we, women, cut each other down, tear each other apart, and often think nothing of it. the movies like "mean girls", "heathers", "she's the one", on and on and on--illustrate over and over how vicious some of us actually are. oh, yes, some. not all of us resort to that crap. as the author of that book mentioned, we, like her, often maintain only a very small, close network of female friends--ones that we know will not slice, dice or puree us at that first moment that they can benefit from it--in amusement, in self-preservation, or just to be mean b*tches. however, i am a firm believer that there are thousands upon thousands of these tiny small clicks--that themselves become part of the problem. the reluctance to take in new women from fear of being burned, stabbed, or otherwise mutilated (metaphorically, of course people) by another estrogen toting powerhouse is scary stuff. they don't make horror movies that can scare us that deeply to the core. we often joke it off when we talk about women that have severed out trust, cut out throats for some self-serving manipulative move. but that pain can linger for years, decades, and often is the hardest pill of any pill to swallow. we joke it away, attempt to diminish and dismiss in the guise of a joke, but it's not funny. and, it's not diminished. over time, all wounds heal, scars fade. yet, the lesson learned is to be guarded, trust few, let in no new others, and judge other women as they come with doubt, skepticism, and sometimes, cruel behavior. we have, as this author has, a small click. we have our comfort zone.

i have moved quite a bit over the years, and my comfort zone has to be re-created each time. yes, i have met women that are these vicious b*tches, out to judge, manipulate, create games, feed their own shallow needs, and benefit exponentially, in their minds, from the mutilation of others. i am always an easy target. i'm the new kid on the block. in addition, my friends often point out that i tend to attract jealous women like a bugs to a bug light. they are desperate to zap me--and honestly, there was a day when it was devastating. then it was annoying. now it's their problem, not mine. what i have learned as i moved over the years is that most women are good women. period. my grams used to tell me if i had one good, trusted friend in my lifetime, i could consider myself blessed. i have more than a dozen, and i consider myself blessed each time one of the many female friends that i have made over the years proves to be one of those that i can add to that trusted list. it's an awesome feeling to know that you have those women around you that you think of as sisters. it's also a phenomenal feeling to be able to "move" a friend into that most trusted category. this is a feeling that we should all look forward to, and yet, some look at it with dread.

why? why dread such a phenomenal feeling? it's not the idea of being able to add someone to our most trusted--it's the fear of the disappointment. we watch shows like "brothers & sisters", "desperate housewives", "one life to live", you name the stupid show, we eat it up like chocolate mousse--never considering it's shit on a platter. the media can dress it up all they want with sexy kittens and hot bod men, then show the mean b*tch getting what she deserves, but then coming around full circle as she rallies back and kicks the crap out of great scripted woman. we're so amused. we're reminded of the mean b*tch that made us guarded. we watch in tripidation, waiting for that b*tch to get what's coming to her. it's ridiculous. it's the same tired broken record, redressed over and over and over. it succeeds in making us feel good that b*tch got what was coming to her. it also reminds that those mean b*tches are out there, possibly our neighbors or good friends, that are out there just waiting to chew us up, spit us out and dance on what's left. it's wall building material--crap. why was it lucky if we had one good trusted friend in our lifetime? well, that was what we saw on tv. and here's the kicker ladies--it's all bullsh*t!!!

the scars are constantly poked by our own fears and watching crap that reminds us about how terribly painful it can be. but here's the truth: what heals those scars--what fades them away--is friends. not just the small click that we've insulated ourselves with. that is feeding the vicious circle--in our effort to insulate ourselves from mean b*tches, we fail to blossom ourselves. as i stated earlier, nothing has ever made me feel better than a friend that has been elevated to family--to sisterhood. it's not just refreshing-it's liberating. for one, i've realized that there are so many wonderful women out there--with so much to offer true friends--each wounded by some mean b*tch. but as my grams used to say, "one rotten apple can ruin a whole barrel". why are most shows and movies that depict these type of women focused primarily on 1 or 2? because there really aren't that many of them in comparision to the rest of us. one of them can damage an entire group of girls in high school, in a sorority, in life. just one. yes, i know the minions are just as much to blame in those moments, but following is not the same. as we become aware adults we move away from following--most of us--we know ourselves better and better. we often limit the time we are willing to spend with that mean b*tch.

of course, mean b*tches often have their little clicks too, but a glance in (and i have been lucky or unlucky, depending on your view of it) to have been pulled into these clicks on ocassion. they are horrible to each other, they have no concept of complimenting each other, raising each other up. it's all sugar and spice to the face and massive mind machetes, 9mm's, downright full scale warfare when the backs are turned. they're terrifying. worse yet? they are completely clueless what friendship really is or how to foster it. they use the word friend so callously that we coined a new word just for their type of friendship-- "frienemy". they're toxic, even though they have the outward appearance of having friends. they chew each other up--go back and lick their wounds--and return to the battle each day with new found anger and hatred bottled up in what the term "twisted sisterhood" doesn't even begin to define. they're not sisters. they will not go to bat for each other. they will not defend one another. and even as they congratulate one of their click in success--they secretly are wretching at the idea that someone else succeeded. they're not hard to spot--they are frothing at the mouth when a new woman is in the room. debating, wrangling in their minds how they can upstage one of their own--build an alliance, create that jealous, zealot behavior in their own click. it's not sisterhood--it's volatile, toxic, three mile island behavior. as the author of "the twisted sisterhood" points out, the women that most need to read that book will never read it, and if they do, they will never acknowlege that is them. period.

of course, this is not to scare the reader. it's to acknowledge that we have all suffered at the hands of other women. even the toxic are suffering (i know, we don't care). as i explained in previous blog, psycholgical scars are the hardest to bare, survive and overcome, and we, women, play that game better than any man ever thought of playing it. but how we bare those scars, how we choose to heal those wounds, how we survive the scarring, truly affects how we overcome. the scars may fade over time, but the truth is that scar fades more each time we add a new trusted friend. for many of us, that ended at one or two friends. we deprive ourselves of healing in an attempt to insulate ourselves. i've stated several times, once in this blog already, we can never have enough wonderful women in our lives. it renews our faith in our fellow man (both men and women), it renews our faith in our own sex, and it renews our faith in ourselves. it helps us to continue to blossom and grow as women, as human beings.

i know the risk is high--emotionally toxic people can really wound and anger. but for every one of them, there are 20 that aren't, 5 of whom we can be friends with, and maybe, if we are lucky, someone that could be family, that could be a sister. the true meaning of sisterhood is not the twisted toxicity that causes us to be guarded. it is definately not the guarding. these block our growth to sisterhood. i'm not saying to not be cautious, but we don't always need the moat, alligators and drawbridge up. we can let other women be our friends in metered doses and observe whether they truly are friends. i'm certainly not advocating hanging out with toxic barracudas at the expense of our own egos and psyches. but those mean b*tches are not the norm, they are the minority--granted vicious minority, but still a small minority. if any of us want to make a resolution (a new year's, a birthday, a st. patty's...), then resolve to add at least one new phenomenal woman to your life this year. yes, it is risky--you may expose yourself to a toxic one here or there, but that one fantastic new friend will make up for it tenfold. what truly heals the wounds toxic women inflict, what truly takes all their power away from them, is sisterhood. true sisterhood takes those scars away and builds the ability to trust--not just other women, but ourselves. "ya-ya!!!!"

i don't need this crap....

i had a very rude awakening this week. a guy that i thought of as nothing more than a friend came to town and wanted to see me. some, well, all but one, of the emails he sent me were borderline inappropriate at best. after a call, i realized that i might not want to see him at all. his tone reeked that he thought more of me than i did him, but i'm not quite mean enough sometimes. i should've just said i'm not interested, but well, i'm not great at that kind of stuff. but then he started to sound a little raunchy in texts to me and even in an email. i wasn't thrilled, but i thought i could manuever around it. so i asked a buddy if i could use him as an excuse.

i know most people would just lie. but i'm a terrible liar for one, and i see no reason to lie. in retrospect it would've been much easier to just say i wasn't interested. but i know from experience this doesn't work well for me. guys like this genuinely think that i should be interested if i don't have a man. i'm basically a wuss in these situations. there are really some jerks that have tried to make me feel guilty and use that against me to get me to see them. this guy pulled that one first. i do feel guilty, not because i lead him on, but because he was attracted more than i wanted him to be. i don't know how to fix that. i know it's not really my fault. but this seems to be an on-going problem with some jerks when i'm single--they just don't get that i'm not interested, not going to ever be interested, and enough already.

if i just flat out tell them that i'm not interested, step 2, they respond just like this guy did. oh, he could tell, but he just wanted to see me. he understood, but he thinks the world of me. i've done this or that for his well-being and my friendship has just completely made him the man that he always wanted to be. or it was thoughts of me that got him through the rough spots. i was sooooo great. it always sounds so sincere, but ugh, i've heard it all before. then i spend 2 hours of my life listening to these guys try to cojole me into a sense of security that they understand what i've said. but that's all crap. when i've fallen for it in the past, it turns into me and a friggin' human octopus unwilling to leave me alone. i even had to kick one in the nuts once as he grabbed my arm in a parking lot, demanding that i see him. demanding! can you imagine?

so this guy was following this pattern pretty quickly, and i decided that i should back out completely from seeing him. too tired, too busy, can't. he continued to text--telling me how much i mean to him. ok, scary at this point. he's suggesting that he just come over, or one beer somewhere. at that point, i threw the big card--i have someone that i've sort of been seeing on and off since october. it's not going anywhere. he's too much work and i consider anyone that becomes work unworthy of my effort other than convenience (which is entire different blog). however, the main point is this jerk doesn't know that. it's not a complete lie (so i don't have to feel bad for being dishonest), but it should be enough to get the point across and still not burn a bridge. then like right out of the jerk-off playbook--he's supposedly dating someone and really did want to see me, could tell i was uncomfortable with it--and topped it off with he could rock my world. :O really, *sshole? at that point, the bridge, burned or not, done. don't want to deal with it. he continued to text me a couple of times until he left the next day. i refused to respond. enough already. i don't consider some jerk off trying to get in my pants a "friend".

the one thing these jerks usually have in common is that they are 10 or 15 or even 20 years older than me. i look like i'm in my mid-30s (so i'm told) and i get offers from 28 years old to 46 years old fairly regularly. i'm not bragging, because most of these guys are the types that have never had a relationship over 12 months long and are generally not as hot as they think they are. but why in the h*ll would i want some guy that isn't even attractive to me? let alone one that is way older than me and that makes me uncomfortable as hell? most of the time, it's the same b.s--because they could take care of me, rock my world, treat me better than guys in my own age category. lmao. really?!?! how is acting like a jerk, abusing a friendship by trying to use the guilt card, or disrespecting me and demanding that i acquiesce treating me better? i'm not some doll on a shelf. i can take care of myself and i may not know what i want. but, i definately know what i don't want. i don't want some geezer that can't take no for an answer.

i have a lot of guy friends. they don't disrespect me this way--ever. the ones that do, well, i cut them out of my life entirely. this guy may really have genuinely believed that he liked me, but the truth is you don't treat someone you like that way. if i had a boyfriend, well, i know that you just throw the boyfriend card and they used to back off. now sometimes that doesn't even work. i'm so ticked about it that i'm back on my no dating kick. i don't need this crap.

enjoy life regardless of the plan

sometimes, i get asked what i want out of life. today was one of those days. what goals do i have for myself and where do i want to be in 5 years? well, sometimes it's not a question of what i want. hell, i'm trying to think of when the last time it was about what i wanted. the last thing i did that was just for me, well, i was 21. i joined the United States Navy. that was all me, all for me, and where it might have impacted other people they had no input on my decision. honestly, i think a lot of us like to live in the world where we think that our decisions are just about ourselves. well, perhaps, but no decision only affects ourselves.

my decision to join the navy didn't affect just me. i had an ex-fiance who i'm pretty sure would've preferred if i hadn't left before he got home from the army. my dad lost track of me, because well, i didn't bother to keep in touch (the reasons are not for public consumption). but i know that probably weighed on him in retrospect. the irony is that most decisions i made while i was in the military, were, well, military in nature. the navy dictated quite a bit--then marriage. i had to include my ex. then my sons. now a dog, a job. no, no one ever really makes a decision that only affects themselves unless they have no family whatsoever, no pets, no job. otherwise, our decisions affect someone--boss, co-workers, family, pets...just a reality.

so what do i want 5 years from now? well, i want my youngest to be ready to graduate from high school. do i want to think what i want after that? yea, i want to live on a beach somewhere, own a small bar, and ride my motorcycle. will that happen in 6 years? well, without hitting the lottery, probably not. will that be a decision that affects only me? no, i have 3 boys--they might be starting families of their own in the next 10 years. i might choose to believe that my decisions will only affect me, but i'll still affect them, my grandchildren (if and when), and the dog (assuming he lives an average of 12 years since he's only 2 now).

does it matter? yes and no. my plan right now is to interfere as little as possible with a normal high school life for my 2 younger sons. that means trying to stay put for the duration. that's my plan. after--who knows? i might be dating someone seriously by then--i know i've gotten sick of dating, but the reality is that i'm still "cute" (don't ask me to explain why i'm using that word specifically) and i'm interesting, -ish, most of the time. i love to snuggle and pillows don't really cut it. so likely, no matter what i say, i'm not really built to be alone long term. i'm just completely unwiling to settle based on some of the nightmares that i've endured. i'm not even sure what i'm looking for. i don't have a list of wants for a potential relationship. there's no plan there either. love isn't planned--love happens. my plan for the dog is euthanasia--just kidding. he's probably going to be my big baby by the time the boys have cleared out of the house.

do i have things that i'd like to do? yep...don't we all? do i have a list? well, yes and no. i want to see certain things--the caribbean, the louvre, the great wall, hong kong, and ac/dc. i'd like to spend a couple weeks roaming the scottish highlands--maybe on a harley. i'm not picky. if i get to see the great wall, then i'm pretty sure that would expand a little--the summer palace and gardens and maybe the forbidden city. but i know i'd be perfectly content just seeing the great wall. i'd like to go to sturgis--but per a previous blog, that will be me and my bestest girlfriends this year!! :) i've done a lot already, seen a lot of wonderful things, and i've got no reason to complain that i haven't seen ac/dc,...yet. a great band like them is bound to do one more tour--look at the stones for crying outloud. or ozzy--the last tour was supposedly a few years back--til this year. he's in kc in a couple of weeks!!! so there's likely still hope yet :)

i know my optimism can be annoying. setbacks and missing out on things can either motivate you to do better and enjoy the things that you get to or you can wallow away longing for all the things that you missed out on and end up missing out on way more. i choose the former. so the next 5 years are a "wash" according to one person--i don't think so. yes, i have the plan based on my boys. i have a long term plan too. i don't feel the need to figure out an intermediary plan today. everything in between the plans is just gravy. life is my adventure, and i'll just enjoy it regardless of the plan.

resolute resolutions

for some reason, new years come with anticipation of a better year, a better life, a better you. new years are infamous for new year's resolutions. we all dream of self-improvement, but most of us are, as the old adage goes, "old dogs" that cannot by ourselves learn new tricks. one of my favorite sayings is "all we are is all we know", and the idea that we might somehow re-write ourselves on the burst of a new year is simply ridiculous. (for those of you scratching your head trying to remember why that saying is so familiar--it's a quote from a nirvana song.) it is a truth. we simply don't re-invent ourselves every year. how can we? we often are only going from those experiences and those habits that we have developed through observations. in fact, most of us don't make deep setting new year's resolutions about who we are. normally we choose only the most superficial things to change anyway, and most often fail miserably. changing even superficial things like how often we work out, quiting smoking, eating healthier, well, these things are a chore and we give up on average within 3 months. we cannot change who we are without experiencing that which we do not know, and just because it's new year's day doesn't mean much to any of us--certainly not enough to make a permanent change.

yes, i know. losing weight is a great goal for some people--particularly in this day and age of health conciousness. quiting smoking is obviously healthier, not only for you but for everyone around you. eating healthier--well, even i could probably stand to eat more fruit and vegetables. but why do we choose these superficial things to change? because we know even these things are hard. how do you lose weight when you have horrible eating habits, horrible exercise habits, a tremendous daily schedule already with work, family, and responsibility? we are overwhelmed even by a small change like this. (ah, yes, i did state small--stay with me here. i'm getting to it.) the success rate for most people with these tiny changes that are actually good for them is less than 2%. really. think about that. most of us give up within 3 months. hell, not even most of us--at that tiny success rate, we could almost say all of us.


we generally don't choose more complex goals. i mean seriously when's the last time you heard someone say that their new year's resolution was to be nicer to everyone, volunteer for a soup kitchen, or try to be less moody. i don't think it's because we don't want to (ok, maybe some people don't want to, but that's another blog). it might be partially because some people don't see their own shortcomings--or even that if we do we are ok with our shortcomings. no one's perfect, but we all want to be better. our desire for improvement is what has made the world a better place than it was say, 200 years ago or 400 years ago. we often want to improve our own lives and the lives of others around us. tesla dreamed of wireless electricity and free power for all mankind. (hahaha. ok, now we know why my hero died penniless.) scientists dream of curing cancer and other diseases. even our parents generally dream of us achieving more and being more than they were themselves (i know that's a generalization, but those that don't are for another blog). so why don't we choose more lofty changes for our new years' resolutions? well, for one, the astronomical failure rate. we cannot stand to fail, so we choose things that will not affect our confidence. we choose things that we can blame on other things--time, other responsibilities, artificially increased drugged cigarettes. we don't want to feel bad for failing at anything--so we generally choose things that the failure can be mitigated by circumstance. no one needs a blow to the ego from their own failure.


but it's not just that. that is just part of the equation. the other part of the equation is "all we are is all we know". we can't drive a car safely without first learning to drive. for some of us, learning to drive was quite simple--we'd observed our parents, it seemed very natural to us, and we didn't fail our driver's license exam. for others, well, it was like pulling our own teeth with a pair of pliers. driving was scary, and worse yet, required. it was exciting, but at the same time, we weren't good at it. we failed, some over and over. we finally got the hang of it, but we still get antsy after 20 years when someone drives 2 miles an hour over the speed limit. it fascinates us or terrifies us that others would drive a race car at 150 miles an hour, let alone the clown that just passed us at 5 miles over the speed limit. so relearning old habits is like i started earlier--"like teaching an old dog new tricks"--only the dog typically doesn't try to learn them all on his own. we get it into our heads that new year's resolutions are a weight we must carry on our own. loftier resolutions would quite simply mean we needed someone else's help--opening a whole new can of worms. needing someone else's help means admitting two very terrifying things: you can't do it yourself (horrible!!) and that if you fail, someone else knows it. we choose superficial resolutions because these two things suck. telling someone that you failed at losing weight--well, as i said, there's a myraid of excuses that can absolve us of not achieving. telling someone we failed at something bigger--like going back to school to finish a degree--well, that could be devastating because there's no one else to blame but ourselves.


now i know a lot of us will pick loftier resolutions at times. we've all heard someone say, "it's bad luck to share your new year's resolutions." no, it's not. it's that we don't want to advertise our anticipated failure. we'll tell you at the end of the year if we accomplished it--if not, it was none of your business anyway. of course, i've already touched on the difficulty to teaching ourselves new tricks without a new perspective. thousands and thousands of self-help books are out there for us to get quiet, anonymous aid. of course, this doesn't work really well either. it's like going on a diet for the mind. we're eating, hell devouring, the carrots in the pages, but it's still not tasting right. the books advise us in generalizations what we should or could change, but only a chapter here or there really applies to us. i write blogs all the time--how often are they applicable to everyone? ok, they're always applicable to me, but other than me? they might be entertaining as hell or thought-provoking or completely wasted blurbage depending on who's reading, what moment of the day it is for them, and how much of what i'm talking about might translate to their own lives. so we can spend a buttload of money on self-help books for one chapter of help. and not even great help. i've read some of these--they generally tell me why things are wrong (which is ridiculous--i know what's wrong or i wouldn't be trying to change it) and then explain why it's wrong (again, duh) and then give a few suggestions at improvement. then it's all back on the reader--all back on us to figure out how to make it work. how do we use those suggestions? how do those suggestions become improvement? how do we interlace those suggestions into who we are, adding to what we know, and becoming a better person? well, here's a shocker (feel the sarcasm?!?)--generally we don't. we buy another book next year with the same--although slightly adapted--resolution. a quiet failure, unadvertised, isn't really failure at all, right? does a tree that falls in the forest make a noise if no one hears it?


if we think about it, anyone taking on a new year's resolution is like an alcoholic trying to give up alcohol. they tell them in aa (alcoholics anonymous for those of you that have been living in a cave for the last 40 years) that they should take it one day at a time. it is the same with new years' resolutions. making just one should be lofty enough for any dog, young or old, and then it should be an everyday thing--eventually even an old dog can be taught to sit or roll over.

but here's another important take away from the aa analogy: does every alcoholic have the epiphany on new years? no, certainly not. why do we insist on making resolutions on a day that generally means nursing a hangover, watching football, and dreading going back to work? success of any determined resolution, new year's or not, is about recognizing that we want that improvment and why. alcoholics often have hit rock bottom before they get help. non-addictions aren't a direct parallel. but consider this: it's proven that larger success rates for giving up smoking is picking a day with some meaning to the smoker--the anniversary of a family member's death who died from lung cancer, for example. the success rate goes up exponentially. a common factor in people that sustain successful weight loss (bar medical afflictions that cause weight problems) is a determination to do this with their children in mind, being around to see things that they might not see if their weight stays too high. even alcoholics anonymous has mentors--another addict to assist the addict through the nightmare. it becomes not just a question of doing it for yourself, but doing it with support of others--past, present and/or future. success in changing something seems very dependent on having a support system to help us through our own doubts, fears, anxieties, whatever might make us give up our resolutions.

my suggestion to new year's resolutions--shove them out the window. they mean nothing. pick a day that means something to you--your mother's birthday, your birthday, your son's birthday (you get the picture). then make a resolution for improvement that day and don't keep it to yourself. pick someone that you know can assist you in achieving your goal--someone that can push you when needed, argue that you want to change this (when you'd rather revert), just pick someone who you trust to be honest with you and help you through the change that you want to achieve. dedicate it to someone that you care about. if you knew a family member that died homeless, and you want to volunteer at a homeless shelter, see if you can find a friend or family member to achieve this magnificient goal with you. if you know you're a stubborn ass sometimes and desire to learn to be more accommodating, get a friend that loves you just the way you are to point out when you're doing it. they're not going to judge you, but you can't do it on your own. something new is scary, resolutions are scary, and failure is scarier. resolutions are supposedly about something we want to improve about ourselves, but those improvements are never really just about ourselves. so throw out the every man for himself theory on new year's resolutions and start looking at them as goals, tangibles, and don't be afraid to ask for help to achieve. you don't have to start it january 1; you can start that journey on february 28th, april fool's day or halloween if you want to. resolutions should not be about a new year--it should always about a resolute new you.

sometimes the path is not yours to choose

there's a lot of us that like to choose our own destiny. i have been fortunate to choose my destiny in a lot of instances, but i would be a fool not to realize that sometimes my path has been more forced upon me than my preferred choice. i now live in wichita, kansas. i would flat out be lying if i said this is where i wanted to be. kansas was not even on my radar, let alone a place i would've chosen given no circumstances to bring me here. yet, here i am, and here i'll stay--at least for now. i keep telling myself, everything happens for a reason.

my boys like it here. they've acclimated well. i would like my two younger ones to be able to finish high school here. the teen years are so difficult, without the added difficulty of trying to make new friends--as i witnessed with my oldest. perhaps that's enough of a reason right there to be in kansas--in wichita, where i have all the amenities of a big city without much of the hassle of a big city and with a similar air to what i grew up with in that small farm town of my grandparents. i certainly accepted the opportunity here because of that anyway.

but, that wasn't the plan. i joke that i have a plan, a back-up plan, and a back-up to the back-up...i've been known to just fly by the seat of my pants at times too, but that's only when life has exhausted me of any other choice. i left south carolina christmas of 2005 after 8 years. it had certainly started poorly (a blog for a different time), but by the end i had accumulated some wonderful friends. i chose to follow through with the move to sc--for several wrong reasons in hindsight (you can't base choices on lies and not end up with the wrong decision in my opinion), but one right reason.

the right reason was professor roby--who was at the time the undergraduate coordinator for the mechanical engineering department at clemson university. the day i met professor roby i knew that clemson university was the right place for me. professor roby was a mustang--a true mustang--an enlisted sailor who was selected for an officer's program. he had attended the naval academy. he had 3 master's degrees. he had been a submariner officer. i was coming out of the p-3 community--as close as a female could get then to the submariner community in its opposition--sub-hunting. up to that point, i had my heart set on going to the university of florida. after meeting professor roby, there was no changing my mind. i would be a clemson tiger.

i remember struggling through school at times. clemson is still a very "traditional" university. the whole campus shuts down at 4 pm. there are no "night" classes in the non-traditional sense. almost the entire student body--more than 98% then--were 18 to 22. there were not any support groups for the older students--clemson just had very minimal set up for non-traditional students. even though it has a very rich military background, it didn't even have a va office like many larger universities do. my previous training and experience was electronics and electrical, with some hydraulic and pneumatic experience, but very much an electrician and electronics technician. i was good at it, and as some of the parts of mechanical engineering became hard, well, i'll admit i wanted to give up. i went to professor roby's office with a change of major form. i could breeze through electrical engineering--i knew it. i had breezed through my controls classes and electrical classes without cracking a book--ten years electrical experience made it easy. so i had realized only the senior electrical course work would be difficult and it wouldn't bury me in the possibility of failure. failure was not an option at this point. i'd cashed out my 401k, i had taken out student loans to cover what my gi bill didn't, and i knew i could be a great engineer. i also didn't want to work technicians' hours anymore--third shift might have been a lot of fun at times, but it was completely unfair to my boys. failure to achieve my bachelor's simply was not an option.

i knocked at professor roby's door. he looked up and i asked if i could have a moment. of course, he was one of those that no matter how much time a student took up, he was there for us. i handed him my change request.

"what's this?" he asked.

"a change of major request. i want to change to electrical engineering."

he looked at the sheet. then looked up at me. "why do you want to change majors?"

"i'm failing thermodynamics. i don't understand entropy and i won't get passed this class. i can make it through double e."

he looked back at the sheet for a second. "no," and he handed me back the sheet. then he turned to his computer. no longer looking at me, i'm not sure he could see my shock. what did he mean "no"?

"professor roby, i don't think you heard me. i'm failing thermo. i don't understand entropy. something from nothing? it's confusing the hell outta me and i'm failing. there's no way for me to pass it now. i just want to change majors to something i know i can pass."

he turned to me and said, "alex, i have other students--straight a students that don't get engineering like you do. some of them even fail to understand even though their grades don't reflect it. you'll take the class again next semester and pass." then he turned back to his computer. i sat there in his office, the change request in my hand, and just looking at him. it was at least 5 minutes of silence as he started typing away, but it felt like an eternity in that brief moment. finally he turned and looked at me and said, "anything else?"

"no, professor." i got up and took my change of major request with me as i left. i got an A in thermodynamics the next semester. turns out entropy isn't energy made, but energy lost to the universe--energy "made" to the universe. some stupid physicist decided at some point and time, probably in a drunken stupor, that if it was "made" to the universe, it sounded a sh*tload smarter than saying he couldn't figure out where the hell it went.

so professor roby chose for me. i certainly could've argued the point with him, but he was a father figure to me. no way in hell was i going to argue with him. i'm pretty sure he knew it, and i'm glad he did. my mechanical engineering degree was my goal, my dream and a culmination of what i had discovered in myself. he made sure i didn't throw away that dream--even if at that moment, i didn't know any better.

there have been other times, that someone picked for me and they were wrong. but we can't control when someone else chooses and whether they are right or wrong. sometimes it's all about the ebb and flow. so i left sc, thinking i'd have a better life for my boys in ohio. in hindsight, that might have been wrong--but i faced some demons that i needed to face when i went back. it was necessary for me. it also resulted in me having to choose to come to kansas. and my boys do have a good life here and so do i. someone once told me that it's not the path you choose, but where you're going. in opposition, another told me that it's not where you're going, but how you get there. i think it's both. the path makes you who you are--where you're going might not even be planned. but you're going to love it when you get there.