A Father's Day Scene

Long time no post. I have a good excuse--relocating to another state and starting a new job--but I'll explain that in some future post. Right now I want to share something I witnessed this morning that reminded me of what it means to be a parent.

I was leaving the library at City of Hope (that's the new job I mentioned) this morning to go to lunch. There's a small pedestrian-only street running past the library. Sitting on the curb were a father and son, the boy maybe 6 or 7 years old. The father could have been AnyDad, sitting next to his son as they raced a remote-controlled car up and down the street on a lovely Southern California day. As the little boy watched the car zooming around, his eyes sparkled with delight, despite the nearly bald head and face mask that marked him as a cancer patient.

Of course I pitied the child. It's bad enough to get sick when you're an adult, when you've lived a bit and can have some perspective on what's happening to you. But, as a parent, my heart broke for the father. I cannot imagine the pain and terror that man has endured, fearing for his child's life and watching him suffer through treatment. But as I walked past them, playing there on the curb, I felt privileged to see what must have been a stolen moment of normality in the shadow of a high-tech cancer hospital.

To me, that little scene captured the essence of fatherhood more than all the Father's Day cards Hallmark can print.

Things I've Learned Recently

I was cleaning the bedroom tonight (try not to faint from the shock) and found some draft blog posts I scribbled out at various times over the last few months. Sometimes when I'm stuck waiting somewhere and didn't bring a book, I'll grab a scrap of paper and start writing. Then I bring the papers home and put them down somewhere "till I can get to them." Months go by, and they get buried under other things to which I plan to get. Then by the time I unearth them, they're way out of date. This time, though, I found some I can still use. Here's the first one:

Things I've Learned Recently

1. It's impossible to sneak up on someone while wearing flip-flops.
   
2. No matter how much you pay for health insurance, your money buys you the right to wait over a month for a doctor's appointment, sometimes while in terrible pain.
   
3. It takes 2 people to catch a skittish chicken, and the process involves lots of swearing.
   
4. Sometimes we don't recognize the major turning points in our lives till later--sometimes years later. A corollary:Major events in our lives sometimes hinge on small, mundane decisions. And a corollary to that: Everything happens for a reason, but sometimes it's a really trivial or lame reason rather than a grand, cosmic one.
   
5. We'd all be better off with more conversations and fewer assumptions.
   
6. 5-day-old pizza is gross.
   
7. Most hour-long meetings could be replaced with a couple of paragraphs of information that would take about a minute to read. But since we're all inundated with information, we need to hold meetings to get people's attention.
   
8. Most hour-long conference presentations could be replaced by a few well-crafted PowerPoint slides that would take less than 10 minutes to read. But since we're all inundated with information, we wouldn't bother to read them, so we need in-person presentations to get our attention.
   
9. Despite all the high-tech medical advances, many doctors are still baffled by--and uncomfortable hearing about--pain.
   
10. Emotional energy is finite.
    
11. When life kicks us in the butt, we can laugh or cry. Crying usually makes more sense, but laughing is a lot more fun.
    

Then and now

25 years ago today, I graduated from high school. I can't quite wrap my mind around the idea that it's been that long, and I'm sure if you'd asked me that night what I thought I'd be doing in 25 years, I would have had no idea. I remember that I couldn't imagine a life beyond school, so I guess it was a good thing I was college-bound. It freaks me out a little to think how much my life--and I--have changed in the last quarter century.

Then: Scrambling around trying to get all my graduation stuff together and plan my post-graduation partying.
Today: Scrambling around trying to get errands done and move furniture so we can have our new kitchen floor installed.

Then: Driving around listening to Night Ranger's "Sister Christian" and being overemotional about leaving high school behind.
Today: Sitting around typing a nostalgic blog post and being overemotional about it having been 25 years since my high school graduation.

Then: Trying to a) figure out how I felt about a guy in my life and b) get the nerve to let him know once I figured it out.
Today: Glad that that guy is back in my life as a good friend, even though he's many miles away.

Then: Wondering who I'd stay in touch with and who I'd never see again.
Today: Marveling at how many people I've gotten back in touch with (thank you, Classmates, MySpace, and Facebook!) and how much we still care about each other, even though we hardly ever see each other in person.

Then: Looking forward to college with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
Today: Looking forward to another work week starting tomorrow. My life is much more predictable now, with fewer huge changes, but that's mostly a good thing. I do wonder sometimes what the next great adventure will be, but the status quo is pretty good.

Then: Needing a bigger box for my record collection.
Today: Enjoying the bigger hard drive I just bought for my MP3 collection.

Then: Wondering when my parents would join the 20th century and get a microwave.
Today: Thinking about replacing the microwave they bought a year after I graduated, which we're still using.

Then: Planning what I would take to my new dorm room
Today: Planning what I will put in my currently-being-redone kitchen.

Then: Marveling at how long 4 years sounded when I was a freshman and how quickly it went by.
Today: Marveling at how long 25 years sounded when I was in high school and how quickly it went by.

25 years ago, I was 17, on the verge of becoming an adult but clueless about life, relationships, and pretty much everything else. 25 years from now, I'll be 67, probably just starting my retirement years and contemplating the end of my life at some (hopefully distant) point. So I'm more or less in the middle, between the beginning of my adult life and the beginning of my "golden years." I guess that means I'm truly middle-aged. *Sigh*

Nerd day afternoon

As I've mentioned before, I've learned to embrace my nerdiness. Saturday afternoon, though, I was forced to confront the fact that not only am I a nerd, but I'm raising a nerdling. For some reason, my son and I started arguing about whether or not it's possible to divide by zero. I did my best to explain why n/0 doesn't equal 0 (how do you explain infinity to a 10-year-old, anyway?) After about ten minutes, my son gave up and went back in the living room to...

wait for it...

watch Star Trek.

Yes. Really.

I, on the other hand, was doing something much cooler--playing games on Facebook.

At least we haven't started hosting D & D tournaments. Maybe there's hope.

A thoughtful, detailed analysis of my mental status

Courtesy of the What's Your Mental Age quiz, part of the Likeness application on Facebook:

Result: 7 Years Old
You're all about energy, fun, and not really caring or even thinking about the future. Basically, you're seven years old. The good news is, you've got a youthful spirit that others envy. The bad news is, you still wet the bed. Sometimes. Only when you've had too much soda late at night.

Yeah, that's pretty much it except for the bedwetting. Can I go to the amusement park now?

8:00 in Boise, Idaho

OK, it isn't 8:00, but I've been dying to work that Lynyrd Skynyrd lyric into a blog post ever since I touched down in Boise. Let's just call it journalistic license. Oh, and I had to look up the spelling of Lynyrd Skynyrd. Let's just call that pathetic.

I'm here for a library meeting on the next generation of integrated library systems (that's library catalogs to those of you who didn't get your library school indoctrination). It's been a good meeting, a nice mix of presentations and group discussions. I've been impressed with the energy and ideas of the attendees, all of whom seem ready to make some big changes to deliver better services. I'll be interested to see if the momentum generated at this meeting translates into anything real. I think it just might.

Interesting though the meeting has been, two days of butt planted in chair makes me restless, so I'll be glad to get off the airplane in Portland and get moving. At least I got out of the hotel last night. It turns out that there are a few graduates of my high school here in Boise (interesting since I went to high school in Northern California). Last night I had dinner with one of them and his family. I hadn't seen this guy since about 1983, so it was a lot of fun to chat and share old stories. I love reconnecting with old friends, and I always come away with new insights on life, growing up, aging, adolescence, and how we all got to where we are now. It's funny how a bunch of small-town kids have traveled some twisted roads in life. There's fodder for at least two books in the lives of my friends and me, though I have no talent for writing fiction, so someone else will have to do the honors or let these stories go untold.

I've spent two days in a meeting devoted to the effects of technological change in libraries. That, along with getting reacquainted with a bunch of old friends over the last couple years, has me reflecting on the connections that are possible through today's technology that were virtually unthinkable 20 years ago. Twenty years ago, I would have kept in touch with two or three old friends, and my only option for reconnecting with the others would have been a high school reunion. We would have sat around the table, drinking and reminiscing and promising to keep in touch. Then we would go back to our lives and forget to call, write, or visit. Then 10 years later we'd repeat the process at the next reunion. Now, each time I find someone online (or he/she finds me), we can keep in touch easily and connect each other with other people we know from back in the day. There are very few people I hung out with in high school that I haven't had some contact with over the last few years -- and I live 700 miles away from my hometown. Sure, Classmates has tacky web ads and makes you pay to contact someone -- but they also provide a valuable service for millions of users. Yes, MySpace and Facebook are in the news regularly, portrayed by blow-dried local newscasters as havens for pedophiles and cyberbullies. But they also provide a way for us to be part of our friends' lives, even when those friends are far away. Now we can share the kind information we used to share while dashing to our lockers or hanging out at lunch: the movie we just saw, the latest news about our families, what we're reading or listening to. Trivial? Sure. But that kind of smalltalk builds connections between people, whether face-to-face or online, separated by a few city blocks or a few states.

As I write this, people are talking about how libraries can build communities--and use technology to do it. I suppose that's the theme of my trip: building community through technology. Lately I've been griping about how my generation was sold a bill of goods, with movies, TV shows, and magazine articles promising us the ultimate in futuristic technology: hover cars, teleportation, and time machines. I'm still waiting for those--especially the time machine and teleportation. Boy, I could get in trouble with those! But I have to admit, no one predicted a global computing network that would link us together across space and time, enabling me to hang out in person with an old friend I could never have found otherwise. I still want my time machine and transporter, but I don't think I'd trade away the internet to get 'em.

Summeritis and Life in 2008

I've been suffering from a severe case of writer's block lately, which I'm pretty sure is secondary to my severe case of summeritis. Summeritis is a bit like senioritis was back in high school, except it isn't quite as much fun (less partying, more sleeping). Symptoms of summeritis include:

• A complete lack of motivation to do anything productive. Even favorite hobbies seem like too much work.
  
• Staying up way too late
  
• Sleeping way too late
  
• An overwhelming desire to lie in a lounge chair with a cold drink and a good book for hours at a time
  
• Unwillingness to wear anything more substantial or dressy than shorts, a tank top, and flip flops
  
• Basking in memories of summers past, when each summer day seemed filled with endless possibilities involving the pool, the park, or a cute member of the gender of your choice (often found at the pool or the park). Dang. Where's my time machine?
  
• Moving to a tropical island and making a living selling tchotchkes to tourists starts sounding like a good career plan
  
• It almost seems worth it to go back to teaching so you can have summers off. Note: The operative word in this sentence is, "almost."
  

In my sun-induced lethargy, I'm finding it difficult to think of anything to say, creative or not, so I've turned to my inbox for inspiration. I haven't gotten any amusing spam lately, so I'm having to dig a little deeper. Fortunately, my pal Gunnar came to the rescue today, forwarding along a funny bit that's been making the e-mail rounds since at least the late 90s. Here it is, with my not-so-witty responses interspersed. I know it isn't up to my usual (low) standards, but it's the best I can do. Once I sell my house and move to Belize, I should have something more interesting to write about. Anyone wanna buy a lovely tiki god? I'll throw in the grass skirt free.

YOU KNOW YOU ARE LIVING IN 2008 when...

1. You accidentally enter your PIN on the microwave.
Haven't done that yet, but give me time.

2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.
Sad but true. I would also add that I have trouble playing backgammon with a real backgammon set. I can't quite remember how to set it up, because my PDA's backgammon game sets up for me. Pathetic.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three.
Not quite, but if you throw in email addresses, I think we're there.

4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.
All the time! And I've also IMed with someone a few offices away.

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.
Yes yes yes! Don't make me find an envelope and a stamp to communicate with you, and phones are so 1988. Actually, email is so 2005. Doesn't everyone text now?

6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.
I refuse to do this, but my husband calls me from the driveway, usually to tell me he's home. Well, duh... I may not be Sherlock Holmes, but I'm pretty sure I would have noticed when you walked in the door--in about the time it took you to dial the damn phone.

7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the screen
Yes, in tiny print way too small for normal humans to read. I first noticed this phenomenon in about 1995, when I was watching a baseball game at a friend's house. ESPN had their web address in the corner of the screen. Both it and the score were way too small to see, and I still had OK eyesight back then. Shortly thereafter, it became impossible for me to watch cable news. The talking head reading the news was in a little box, surrounded by at least three other boxes that flashed and scrolled stuff. It was worse than frames on web sites! I have the attention span of a gnat--I can't deal with that much distraction.

8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't even have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.
LOL. I'm not usually guilty of this one, but the hubster goes into hysterics if he can't find his phone. Heaven forbid he might miss a call from some member of his family, wanting to borrow money. And heaven forbid I don't have my phone at hand in case he wants to call me to tell me that someone in his family wants to borrow money.

10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your coffee.
Nah, I drink my caffeine of choice while online. Multitasking, baby!

11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )
Not yet, and if I start doing that, please shoot me.

12. You're reading this and nodding and laughing.
Guilty. Throw in a sheepish look or two also.

13. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.
I'm still contemplating that, as well as whether or not to include my inane comments. Worse still, I think I'll post it on my blog. Email forwarding is so 2002.

14. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.
More like too oblivious.

15. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list.
*Sigh* Guilty.


~~~~~~~~~~~AND FINALLY~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOW U R LAUGHING at yourself.
I laugh at myself every day! It seems to the be the trendy thing to do, judging by how many other people laugh at me.

Go on, forward this to your friends. You know you want to!
Maybe, but the blog post would be more efficient.

Funny sight on the playground

We decided to enjoy the gorgeous summer evening tonight, so we picked up some sandwiches and headed for Commonwealth Lake, a local park with a couple playgrounds and, of course, a lake. While walking along the path to the playground, I got another jarring reminder that things have changed since I was a kid. Lying on the grass in a pile were three kids, probably between about 7 and 10 years old. They were all jostling for position so they could see the screen of some laptop-like contraption, possibly a portable DVD player. A few feet away, there was a swing set and various other playground attractions, but they were happy with their little screen. *Sigh* I think I'll just curl up in my rocking chair with my Geritol now...

Time to cheer up

For those who don't know, it's been a difficult few months here at Camp Crum. We've dealt with illnesses and injuries, as well as family and friends with various problems. Through it all, I've managed to keep my sense of humor and, for the most part, enjoy myself. The last week or so, though, has been tough. I've felt a little like a one-woman Whack-A-Mole game. Something happens to knock me down, I pop back up as usual, and something else hits me. Rinse. Repeat. Or, as one of my friends who's also having a difficult time put it, "Why does life always have to give us lemons? Enough with the damn lemons already!" It's not that any one thing has been devastating--it's just that there have been quite a few things. But after spending a week being moody, brooding, and depressed, I'm tired of it. I believe Abraham Lincoln was right when he said that most folks are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be. Or that famous philosopher, Mike Brady, who once declared, "We've had enough worse. It's time for some better." Yes, it is.

The problems will still be there. Hubby is still injured, Mom is still hurting, several of my friends are still going through some difficult times, and I still have some personal drama to sort through. But in the midst of all that, I'm going to look for joy and laughter wherever I can find it. Just writing this has lifted my mood, probably because this blog is one of the ways I reach out to others. If there's an upside to being depressed, it's realizing how many friends I have and how much they mean to me. If you're reading this--especially if you made it this far--you're probably one of those friends, so thank you. And be warned: I intend to return to my usual silliness very soon. You might want to check your chair before you sit down. I think I found a Whoopee cushion while cleaning house yesterday.

Gives a whole new meaning to "potty mouth"

OK, so I'm in the restroom at work this afternoon, when I hear someone enter the stall next to me, along with the telltale sounds of a cell phone being dialed. Sure enough, as she starts doing her business, she also starts yakking--loudly--on the phone. Sounds carry in a bathroom, magnifying her voice even more. I flush, but she goes right on yakking, even though the toilets here flush loudly, so the person on the other end had to have heard the sound.

Now I'm no stickler for decorum (OK, you don't have to agree quite so vigorously), but really... can't you even pee without talking on the phone? And wouldn't you be embarrassed to have the person on the other end of the line hear a loud FLUSH during the conversation? Have a little class, people.

And, I might add, have a little respect for other people using the bathroom. Is there nowhere we can go to escape your inane yabbering? Sheesh.

The end of an era

Today was strange. It snowed most of the day. Yes, it snowed at the end of March in Portland. One of the local TV stations said this is the latest snowfall on record, the previous record being March 10, I think. We're supposed to have more snow this weekend too. Guess I won't be gardening.

Today was also the day I said goodbye to my boss, who's retiring after 32 years as our library director. 32 years. Wow. He was hired in 1976, when I was a freckly 10-year-old making red, white, and blue candles at Girl Scout camp. It's hard to imagine the library without him. The first time I worked at the library, in the early 90s, I was a student assistant, hired to catalog some historical books during the summer between years of library school. I was a freckly 24-year-old at the bottom of the org chart. Library Administration was a suite of offices on the top floor of the library, and I knew the people who worked up there must be important because a) they wore suits, and b) they had the only air-conditioned offices in the building. One day I was hunched in front of my OCLC terminal (you library types might remember those old dedicated terminals with the green text on a black background), cataloging away, when Jim came down to tell me that he was glad I was there, and my supervisor was pleased with my work. I learned my first management lesson that day: show you appreciate your staff, even (maybe especially) the ones at the bottom of the org chart.

Several years later, after my sojourn in Georgia, I returned to the library, this time as a librarian. I worked for a wonderful supervisor who could turn a freckly, rough-around-the-edges 29-year-old into a somewhat competent professional. A few years later, we went through one of our many reorganizations, and I ended up reporting to The Boss. I was a bit intimidated, but I soon realized I had a new mentor. Jim helped me gain confidence as a new manager (still freckly and rough around the edges, in case you were wondering, but not quite so young) and was endlessly patient with my questions, insecurities, and frustrations. I always knew I could go to him for advice or a reality check, and I often needed both.

We gave Jim a fine send-off. In addition to the official retirement party, a group of us filled his office with balloons and streamers last night, and we pulled together an impromptu farewell lunch today. All too soon, though, it was time for goodbye. As someone wrote on the whiteboard, it is the end of an era. I don't know what the new era will bring, but I know I'll miss Jim's part in the old one.

Love is thicker than blood

Every now and then, I run across a quote that resonates with me. This one appears in today's Dear Abby:

"Blood may be thicker than water, but love is thicker than blood." -- Goldie Nash

The Dear Abby column related to adopted children and stepchildren, but it makes me think of my friends. Other than my mother, husband, and son, I have no relatives that I'm especially close to. Growing up as an only child, I relied on my close friends for companionship and support. They were truly like family, much closer and more important to me than my cousins and other relatives. What matters to me is the relationship, that someone genuinely cares about me (and vice-versa), not blood or status or any of those other things people seem to worry about.

Thinking outside the box

These aren't your usual Monopoly tokens, but then we aren't your usual family. Other people use the tokens that come with the game, but not us. Here are our tokens at the beginning of the Great New Year's Eve Monopoly Tournament:


Hubby had Davy Crocket (the brown thing), Son had the toy soldier, Corbin the little pewter wizard, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you which one was mine.

Weird? Nope--we just think outside the box!

Another year over...

New Year's Eve: A time for those of us who aren't getting wasted to take stock of the year that has passed and contemplate new opportunities in the coming year... or something like that. I'm far too lazy to write anything profound tonight, so I'll settle for a photo-laden romp through the highlights of 2007:

January

I rang in the new year at a club in Santa Clara. Y & T was on the stage, Kristy and I were in the front row, and life was good (and loud!). At midnight a bunch of balloons came down, and the band launched into "Midnight in Tokyo". 2007 has potential, I thought.


A bit later in the month, I was off to Seattle for a business trip.


February

Not much of interest happened in February, and that was just fine with me. I'm not a superstitious person, but February historically has been an unlucky month for me. This year, it was just another 28 days of winter.

March

I made up for a boring February in March, with a concert, my 40th birthday, and a trip to Disneyland.
Jars of Clay in Vancouver, WA:


40th birthday dinner cruise:


40th birthday party with co-workers:


Chillin' with Mickey in Disneyland:


April

The annual church plant sale! We raised over $1500 for preschool scholarships and had a great time selling plants.


May

Back to California for a business trip and some R&R, including a trip to Santa Cruz to ride the Giant Dipper:


June

Summertime -- and the beginning of our summer travel season!
Camping at Wallowa Lake, OR:






Off to the ALA Annual Conference in Washington, DC:


And Jerry's 9th birthday party:


July

4th of July fireworks:


Since Tony didn't have a very good 40th birthday in '06 (he was recovering from a knee injury), I decided to take him somewhere cool for his 41st -- Universal Studios!


Harry Potter is practically a member of our family, so the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was a big deal at Camp Crum. Tony went to the midnight release party at our local Border's dressed as Lord Voldemort:

I went to sleep early but spent the next day reading the entire book.

August

August began on a sad note, as we watched our dear feline friend Bubbles grow weaker and weaker. We said goodbye to her on Aug. 9th, and we still miss her.


The rest of the month passed quickly. First, a Night Ranger concert:


Next, a family reunion, where Jerry met a couple of his cousins for the first time:


And finally a weeklong adventure in Alaska:




September

September = Def Leppard month! Three concerts over about three weeks!


Oh, yeah, and Tony and I celebrated our 16th anniversary with a trip to the Oregon Coast:


October

Like August, October began on a sad note, when one of Tony's high school friends died. We drove down to Eugene for the funeral, which turned into a mini-reunion of family and friends.


About a week later, we headed back to the coast for our annual church retreat at Camp Magruder.


Then of course there was Halloween.
Kristy, Matt, Tony, and me at John's party:


Trekking through the San Joaquin Delta the day after the party:


Goofing off at a pumpkin farm on Sauvie Island:


And Halloween night:


November

Finally an uneventful month.

December

Black 'N' Blue concert


A quiet Christmas, followed by a trip to Mt. Rainier to enjoy some snow:


And that's about it for 2007. It was a pretty good year, and it passed much too quickly. It doesn't seem possible that it's been a year since Y & T melted my eardrums on New Year's Eve. I hope 2008 goes a bit more slowly, but somehow I doubt it will.

A white Christmas in Portland!

What with holiday preparation, celebration, and recovery, I haven't managed to post much lately. Christmas was hectic but fun... and white (sort of). It snowed most of the day here in Portland, and a dusting of the white stuff stuck around for a few hours. Those of you from places that actually get real snow may laugh, but for us that counts as a white Christmas, the first one since 1990, I think. Here are a few pics:

Looking down from my back deck:


Front yard:


Snowy primroses:


My son managed to scrape together enough snow for a few good snowballs, so he was happy.

A retail-free Black Friday

While other moms were duking it out over the latest PlaystationXBoxWIIGadgetoftheYear, I avoided anything resembling a retail establishment, since I'm really bad at hand-to-hand combat. Instead, I donated platelets at the Red Cross this morning, then took the family to a couple county parks in Washington for the afternoon. It was f-f-f-freezing (literally--there was frost on the ground and ice in the puddles). But it was still nice to climb around outside after spending all day yesterday in the kitchen.

Besides clambering around on rocks, I used the time to experiment with taking long-exposure pictures of flowing water. I wanted to try out the great instructions I found on Flickr. The lighting really wasn't right, my camera doesn't have quite the right settings, and I don't have a tripod, so my results were less than perfect. But it was fun to mess around, and some of the pictures turned out OK. These were all taken at Moulton Falls County Park just outside Yacolt, WA.











And one of the boys:


While on the subject of Black Friday, I've been thinking I'd like to start a new tradition. We're supposed to spend Thanksgiving thinking about everything we have to be thankful for. So, instead of full-contact shopping on Friday, how about dedicating that day to giving something back? The natural response to gratitude should be generosity, right? Wouldn't it be great if, instead of news stories about fistfights and tramplings at the local Wal-Mart, we had stories about people helping their neighbors, making a meal for a sick friend, or donating time to a worthy cause? Yeah, I know--dream on. But if you think it's a good idea, let me know. Maybe we can think up some great stuff to do on Black Friday 2008.

Putting the "thanks" back in Thanksgiving

Twice I've started a Thanksgiving post this week. The first one was a list of Stuff I'm Thankful For--not big things but the thousand little things that we sometimes forget to appreciate properly, like indoor plumbing. The second one, begun with pen and paper while I was curled up in front of a window on a rainy afternoon, was a cozy little piece about how much I love Thanksgiving, how it's beginning to overtake Christmas as my favorite holiday. I was feeling very warm and fuzzy earlier this week, savoring the thought of four days off, cocooning with family, friends, and food. Ahhhh...

Then yesterday afternoon, some very bad news arrived. I don't want to post details for the world to see, but it created a very difficult, painful situation for my family. Since then I've been by turns numb, angry, worried, and scared. I'm not a Pollyanna, so I don't try to find a bright side in everything (some situations simply don't have a bright side, no matter what all those positive thinking gurus say). But the few times in my life I've experienced real pain and tragedy, I've also been reminded of how very blessed I am. This time has been no different. So, while I'm still grateful for indoor plumbing, I'm going to share with you my new, more serious, list of the things I'm especially thankful for on this Thanksgiving Eve:

Family -- No matter what happens, I know I'll always have love and support from my husband, my son, and my mother.

Friends -- "Is there anything I can do?" "No, really, I mean it, please tell me if I can help." "I'll be thinking of you." "Call me if you need anything." "We love you." We've heard these words from everyone with whom we've shared our pain, usually accompanied by big hugs. I can't begin to describe how much it means to know we aren't alone, that some amazing people stand with us. If there's a bright spot to any tragedy, it's that we find out how much our friends really care. I'm both humbled and sustained by their love and support.

Faith -- I don't often write about my faith, because it's deeply personal. But God is with me, through good times and bad, and I can lean on His strength when mine fails. And with my faith comes another family--my church family. Our pastor who prayed with us, counseled us, reassured us, and even made us laugh. Our youth pastor, who hugged us, offered her help, asked us how we were holding up. My husband's boss, who was completely understanding and supportive.

My co-workers -- many of whom are also friends. "Are you OK?" "Can we help?" My boss, who has been incredibly understanding and supportive, even though I had to leave work with little warning and miss a couple important meetings.

Sometimes people hurt us. Sometimes bad things happen. But I know that, no matter what life hits me with, I don't have to face it alone. Some of the most amazing people in the world have my back. And for that I'm deeply thankful.

Hospitals at night

A few nights ago I took a shortcut through one of the hospitals on campus to get to my car, parked as usual in Outer Mongolia, a/k/a South Campus. As I trudged along, I felt my mood deteriorate. That's odd, I thought. I've been in a good mood all day. Then I realized the problem: I was in a hospital after dark. You see, one is rarely in a hospital at night for anything good. During the day you might be there for something fairly routine, like a mammogram or some other test. But if you're there at night, you're probably visiting a loved one, which probably isn't a happy occasion unless said loved one has just given birth. Or you're a patient. I have lots of unpleasant memories associated with being in a hospital at night: having my tonsils out (I don't care if you get to eat lots of ice cream. It hurts.), going to the ER with my dad, visiting various relatives before they died, visiting my mother while she lay seriously ill with pneumonia, sitting with my son in the NICU, wondering if he'd survive.

Then there's the almost eerie atmosphere. During the day, hospitals are busy places. Doctors rush up and down corridors on rounds, nurses hurry from room to room, patients are wheeled around, florists deliver flowers, and the cafeteria (my usual haunt) bustles with hungry and harried personnel, wolfing down their greaseburgers before their pagers go off. At night it's calmer, quieter, emptier. Exhausted-looking residents dine alone, and families of patients move through the place like zombies. They don't know their way around, they don't know what they want, and they probably don't care. They're eating because they need to, not because they want to. Every now and then there's an overhead page. Often a doctor is being called somewhere ("paging Dr. Valentine to the Coronary Care Unit..."), but sometimes it's more ominous. "Would the family of Mr. Gravely-Ill-Patient please report to the nurse's station immediately?" I say a prayer for Mr. Patient and his family, my sympathy mixed with gratitude that the page is for someone else, not me.

As I emerged from the building into the cool night air, my melancholy mood left me as quickly as it had come. I was just another employee, heading home after a long day. My family waited at home for me, healthy and whole. I would eat my dinner with them, chatting about the day's events, not picking at a plate of hospital food while wondering what the latest batch of test results meant for my loved one. Life was (and is) good. If I ever forget that, I need only walk through the hospital in the evening to be reminded.

"Just" don't do it

I read something awhile ago that took us women to task for minimizing what we have to say by introducing it with "just," as in: "I just want to tell you...," "I just need...," etc. Somehow that nugget embedded itself in the back of my brain, and I started noticing how often I soften (or weaken) whatever I'm saying with "just." Then I started dropping the "just", just to see what difference that would make. I was surprised at the result. Sentences that sounded tentative suddenly sounded confident. I started to sound like I had a right to ask for whatever it was I was asking for, including the reader's/listener's attention.

[Funny aside. My husband asked me a moment ago how long I'd be on the computer. I said, "A couple minutes. I'm just writing something." *Sigh*. By saying that, I minimized the importance of my writing. Granted, this blog post isn't going to change the world, but still... it matters to me.]

Apparently old habits die hard, and in this case, a habit of language is also a habit of mind. Too often we women are taught to minimize our own needs, put others before ourselves always. It's good to be humble, and it's good to care for others. But we must also value ourselves. We can't be worth much to others if we don't value ourselves, right? Of course, that's just my opinion.

Stuff I like that everyone else likes

I posted awhile ago on stuff everyone else likes except me and stuff I like that most people don't know about. This time I'll try a different angle--stuff I like that everyone else likes too. Ho hum... What's so special about that, you say? Well, I'm usually such a weirdo that I miss out on popular stuff, so this list won't be as long as you might think.

Popular things I like . . . on TV:
This will probably be the shortest list of the bunch. I don't watch much TV--and no, I'm not one of those pretentious people who sniffs derisively at any TV program not on PBS. I just don't have a lot of free time, and I prefer to spend most of that free time on other activities (like eating and sleeping). But I can come up with a couple things:

• The Daily Show: Honestly, if it weren't for Jon Stewart, I don't think I'd ever know what was going on in the world. And of course I love the snark.
  
• The Colbert Report: Stephen Colbert is a crackup, and I'm a sucker for well-executed irony.
  
• The Simpsons: especially the Halloween specials.
  

Popular things I like . . . on the radio:

• Satellite radio: A huge variety of music, no commercials, and I can get my favorite stations almost anywhere in the US. What's not to love? Hair Nation on Sirius rocks!
  
• Goo Goo Dolls: OK, they're kinda 90s, but for me that's positively recent, and they're as close to alternative as I get. And John Rzeznik... yum.
  
• "Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven: Finally a recent song I like! Satan must be strapping on his ice skates...
  
• Classic rock from the 70s through early 90s. My music is popular again! Turn it up to 11!
  

Popular things I like . . . actors/movies:
This'll be my longest list. To keep it manageable, I'll stick to the major ones.

• Oldies: Original Star Wars trilogy, Star Trek movies (well, most of 'em), Indiana Jones movies, 80s slasher flicks, James Bond movies (again, most of 'em), The Princess Bride
  
• New stuff: newest James Bond movie, Bourne movies (Matt Damon... *sigh*. And the car chases and explosions are cool too.), Harry Potter movies
  
• Actors: Tom Hanks, John Cusack, Harrison Ford, Matt Damon, Nicholas Cage
  

Popular things I like... books:
I just realized my last post didn't have a category for books. How could I miss that? This list is shorter than I thought it would be, but that's probably because I read a lot of older stuff, especially nonfiction.

• Harry Potter: love 'em! I wish there were more coming. The audiobooks are great too, but then I could probably listen to Jim Dale read the phone book.
  
• The Da Vinci Code: I avoided this one for awhile because of all the hype, but a friend loaned me a copy, so I thought I'd give it a try. Once I started reading it, I couldn't put it down. I could argue the theology and find holes in the plot, but why ruin a great read?
  
• Sherlock Holmes stories: A century old and still wonderful.
  

Popular things I like . . . when it comes to people:
Well, gee, this one will be a little inane. I'll probably start sounding like a singles ad or a Playboy caption ("and I like sincere people and puppies and long walks on the beach..." Gag!)

• Sense of humor: The single most important requirement for anyone in my life! You need to be able to laugh--at yourself, at nothing, at stupid stuff, whatever. And when we women say that a sense of humor is the most attractive quality a man can have, we aren't kidding.
  
• Sincerity: Try not to set off my BS detector more than once per day, please.
  
• Kindness: "Kind" is a bit like "nice" -- a word that's usually seen as wimpy and nondescript. But both "kind" and "nice" are actually really important qualities. Life is short and sometimes difficult; don't make it worse than it needs to be. If you can't treat people well, especially people from whom you have nothing to gain, please just go away. Sarcasm and snark are great, but underneath that, try to be a decent human being.
  
• A spirit of adventure: No, I don't mean bungee jumping or other pastimes that attract people with more adrenaline than brains. But be willing to visit new places, try new things, and meet new people. There's a whole world out there, ya know.