Once you choose hope, anything's possible.

--Christopher Reeve

Going Back to the Big Easy

Our return to New Orleans was wonderful. Weather was full-blown spring - we ate at many great restaurants (Cafe Giovanni that features the opera singers not one of them, but my sister knows the Chef so maybe next trip). Rode the street car and browsed in the French Market, watched the cargo ships on the Mississippi with KK and had tea at the Ritz Carlton, saw my sister's new digs across from Commander's Palace and stayed in a very nice boutique hotel - the Lafayette Hotel - it was what a visit to New Orleans should be.

The highlight for me was breakfast one morning at Camellia Grill - the best Western omelet my mouth has ever tasted followed by a slow ride up St. Charles in the street car past all the blooming azaleas and dogwood trees, not to mention beads still hanging precariously tossed too high for any Mardi Gras revelers to retrieve.

We also saw the sobering rebuilding process after Katrina - the middle class and upper crust neighborhoods are clearing lots and rebuilding, FEMA trailers are everywhere, but the poor side of town stands still with green moss growing on the roofs of the decaying buildings. In every neighborhood, the houses still standing wear the X's and messages spray painted on the sides by the National Guard like a badge of honor denoting if anyone or pets were still in the house or had been removed. Luckily, my sister lived across Lake Ponchatrain when the storm hit, but every home she had ever owned in New Orleans was damaged or gone. So, so sad.

Touched by An Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage

exiles from delight

live coiled in shells of loneliness

until love leaves its high holy temple

and comes into our sight

to liberate us into life.

Love arrives

and in its train come ecstasies

old memories of pleasure

ancient histories of pain.

Yet if we are bold,

love strikes away the chains of fear

from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity

In the flush of love's light

we dare be brave

And suddenly we see

that love costs all we are and will ever be.

Yet it is only love

which sets us free.

-- Maya Angelou

Tough Enough!

X is coming into town and I need to have a pep talk with myself. I'm feeling these impercieved slights from everyone - but probably just feeling vulnerable I guess. My psyche loves to play tricks on me in a self-help effort to toughen it's exterior up.

Let's see ... how many lobs have I dodged since Saturday - 3 or is it 4 now at my last count? Funny thing is they have no idea that the pebbles of conversation tossed my way turned into heavy boulders before I caught them.

I guess everyone thinks I'm no longer this fragile shell of a person walking around and can handle life and whatever punches - high or low that come my way. So that's a good thing. Some of them are totally unintentional. Some of them are friends I respect who have the best intentions but have perhaps not lived through anything truly challenging yet and have no idea. I'm glad for them.

One friend choked back on her words about how a weird roommate we shared came from a "broken" home - I could see she could tell she stepped in it. Another much respected friend said that his nephew was the "success story of the family" because he had done so well for himself in his undergraduate studies and college recruitment in spite of his parents' divorce. I felt like the success was not in overcoming his father's marital strife, but in believing in himself. Their divorce really had nothing to do with it - he's a very smart kid.

The ones that hurt the most are from those whom I'm going to name-call as judgmental and hold a much over-elevated level of self-importance. I would love to tell them to get down off their f**king high horses and get over themselves. I have to ignore those comments to get through the humilation, maybe I'm stronger than I think, but how I would love to revert to my old juvenile tricks and knee jerk react to them and tell them off. Say things like "If I wanted to continue to be made to feel bad about myself and feel like a loser I would have remained married to X." I can't say it outloud to them, but I can write it down here and get it off my chest. Do I feel better? No, well maybe a little.

Why, when I'm criticized, does it always come down to me doubting my self-worth? That feeling of not being good enough for anyone.

It's a good place to be in that I can recognize this, confront it and try to deal with it; however, my inner dialogue will not shut up in this conversation with myself. I know that I'm tough enough, I have proved it to myself and to everyone around me.

The Dark Side of the Moon

Valentine's Day Wisdom

What Most Valentine's Day Cards ... Won't Tell You About Your Heart!

Your heart is a muscle roughly the size of your fist,

But the trouble with fists is that they don't hold very much (especially when clinched).

To hold more of this incredible world in your hands

Unfurl your fingers (like a flag or flower).

To hold more in your heart

Just keep it

Open.

Take Cover Immediately

Recitative: Last night during the final half hour of my MLAS course, life imitated art in an extremely surreal manner. We were in the midst of discussing and dissecting the hilarious chaos in the final scene of Act I in Rossini's "The Barber of Seville" when the campus tornado siren started it's eerie cry in the night. The entire class quickly evacuated into a stairwell and then proceeded to be further evacuated to the basement below Ingram Performance Hall.

Our prof said to imagine the popular chorus from this opera playing in the background as we stood in the stairwell. With that planted in my mind many of the moments to come would have coincided with superb comedic timing to this delightful Rossini chorus.

Cantabile: At first, our class of adult grad students we were the only ones seeking safe shelter, but were quickly joined by aloof, but albeit younger students, incredulous profs and a few walkie-talkie toting maintenance workers. It was an intriguing, if vanilla, peek at the underground behind the scenes world of the Blair School of Music.

Our evacuated state hiliarously reminded me of the scene we were discussing in "The Barber of Seville" . The cast was showcased on a split stage in what seemed to be the orchestra pit while the star ensemble sang a sextet layered above on the mainstage. The group was moving furniture and perhaps stealing it out of Bartolo's house, talking amongst themselves like they were at a fraternity mixer.

Cabaletta: A sign taped haphazardly to the wall pointed down the hall to the Blair Opera Costume Shop (more than a few of us wanted to be adventurous). Chairs were stacked to the ceiling, the duct work and plumbing hung above our tired heads. It was warm, but about to get warmer when a group joined us of tsarist-era Russians whose "Fiddler on the Roof" dress rehearsal was cut short. A crying peasant went hurtling past and collapsed on the floor in tears of real fear. Many were quick to comfort her. An Asian Hasidic Jew took a post on the wall next to one of my classmates joined by another young man with extremely bad fake facial hair (at least close up it looked hideous).

A few of us adult geeks talked of our addiction to online scrabble. For the most part, the voices were boisterous and appreciative of the much needed safety precaution. I had wanted some excitement since I was missing Mardi Gras on this evening, but didn't expect anything quite like this.

It wasn't until my dark and windy drive south on Hillsboro Road did I receive the campus-wide text message to take cover immediately. It was a tad too late for that, but it made me pause to think of the calm I felt in the midst of the Blair's basement chaos. I was surrounded by my friends and I felt so incredibly relaxed and safe.

After I arrived home our county tornado siren again interrupted the night and it sounded like it was located right across the street. We took cover immediately upon learning we were in the path of yet another storm.

Another mini-chaotic scene ensued as we rushed to get pillows, blankets, a flashlight that didn't work, a hyper dachshund, American Girl Dolls, Chewy (my daughter's beloved stuffed animal) and Victoria the hermit crab and ourselves into our safest interior space (in this case a tiny half bath). I held my daughter and shaking puppy tight as the wind whistled and the meterologists tried to outsing the storm with their many warnings. This was a new kind of safe for me, wrapped in the love for my child and presence of peace among my friends.

What Matters Most

Tonight we were the only car on the road. Everyone else was tucked safely in their homes, positioned in front of the television watching the Superbowl. ½ tuned into the frenzy of 2008 and ½ tuned out. By the time I sat down during the 4th quarter and watched the end of the game – I had claimed the team I was rooting for. It didn’t really matter this year, other things, real things mattered more.

I spent Friday night at home with my daughter and Saturday morning running errands with my sister. Put my feet up for a few minutes in the afternoon before visiting with and kissing my sweet grandmother. Saturday evening we celebrated the 40th birthday of a good friend. Sunday morning my mom stopped by on her walk and we all acted silly with the dog. Went to church, talked on the phone with one of my best friends to check in on each other and asked how to make her special casserole. Cooked dinner for a sick friend, delivered it with a smile, but cried a few prayerful tears for her on the way home. Ended the evening writing in my journal to yellow lamp light and finished an assignment with snoring puppy and snoozing 8 year old wonder lying sweetly beside me.

I am so blessed and my life is so full - the Superbowl seems so inconsequential

Disclaimer: (However, I must admit I am THRILLED that Eli Manning and the New York Giants beat the Patriots!!!! – SEC baby)! Belichick is a baby - sad to see a grown man be SUCH a poor loser.

Throw in a Little Hope for Good Measure

"Don't you see, Hook? You will never win. Not as long as there's faith, trust, and pixie dust."

-- Jane, Return to Neverland

Is it the lack of sunlight touching my face? Or is it the January doldrums? For whatever reason I have hit the negative wall face first. I feel so much anxiety I could scream silently in the midst of this cube farm I sit in each day. I trolled through my pictures looking for something to bring me up into the blue and I found this photo I took in the Smokies at Elkmont Campground - a monarch butterfly about to take flight.

This week my daughter got sick - nothing serious - but enough to warrant being home and resting for a few days. When I returned to work - I felt like the worst mom ever. Why is it when she gets sick do I feel like a failure as a mom? It's not that I can't protect her from catching a germ. It's that I feel so alone - really like KK and me against the world - I have help and I have support and my girlfriends all call to check on her, but when you are up at 4:00am and you cannot go back to sleep for fear you will sleep through your alarm - it is so isolating.

I've been called a Pollyanna - sometimes it makes me smile and be happy that I can gloss through life without being bogged down and other times it makes me angry that someone would make fun of me for that. Maybe the Lost Boys of Neverland have got something there...Maybe being Pollyanna is how I have survived - it's hard for me to hear negative things - it stresses me out. I have to put it out of my mind like a child putting her hands over her ears for things she doesn't want to hear.

The past few days have been hard - I've beat up A LOT on myself for my failings in life - and today I can't shake it - I've simply prayed for God to put his arms around us both and provide his guidance and protection - that simple faith is all that has given me hope today - and if pixie dust works - I wish someone would sprinkle some of that on me too.

Good Tidings

fortune(fôr'chen)

noun

1.
a. The chance happening of fortunate or adverse events; luck.
b. fortune(s) The turns of luck in the course of one's life.
c. Success, especially when at least partially resulting from luck.

2.
a. Fate; destiny: told my fortune with tarot cards.
b. A foretelling of one's destiny.

Someone tossed me a fortune cookie today and hidden inside was this lovely message. I jumped on the good tidings it brought to me. It could mean many things - a new friend, boyfriend, co-worker - instead of jump to conclusions I'm just going to keep it in my pocket - think positive and see who the relationship brings to my acquaintance.

For full disclosure - I got this fortune too - but it didn't get my hopes up quite like the one above - but it did make me giggle.

It's like totally Scrabulous!

So a friend on Facebook got me hooked on this online scrabble game and I'm totally hooked. It's highly addictive. I can totally understand how people get hooked onto the online betting schemes; however, scrabble is so not worth losing cold, hard $$ over. I haven't been into a computer game like since I played Tetris on a Mac during lunch break while working at DuPont as a technical writer. It's fun - try it- I may even be gaining back some lost brain cells that have been obliterated through parenthood. It's Scrabulous. I actually feel intelligent again. Who knew scrabble could be so fun??!!??

My Must See TV

My TV viewing habits - PBS, Reality, High School Drama, Comedy - What does this say about me?

Sunday - Masterpiece Theatre - The Complete Jane Austen - Masterpiece Theatre - always a favorite since my days working Master Control at a local PBS station. But now to celebrate my favorite writer with her own series. My heart is happy on Sunday nights.

Monday - Nothing There is nothing I MUST see on Monday nights - I would rather read but this semester I will be finishing my reading assignments on Monday evenings for my Tuesday evening class.

Tuesday - The Real Housewives of Orange County This show is almost like watching a trainwreck but I can't look away. Now after 3 season I even care about what happens to some of them. It's fun to see how the other half lives and see that reality underscores money not being able to buy your happiness.

Wednesday - Project Runway 4 - This is one reality show where you actually have to have mad skills to advance. No America voted, but really talented judges who do have something to say. For me it's not even about the fashion - it's being wowed by the creativity that walks down the runway. My mom used to sew everything for us - we had the most beautiful clothes you could imagine all for under $1.99.

Thursday - ER - I love this show. Period. Abby. Luca. Pratt. Nuff said.

Friday - Friday Night Lights - Great acting by all involved. Riggins, Coach Eric, his wife, these characters remind me of people who really do exist and live for the big lights on Friday Night.

Saturday - Saturday Night Live (if I can stay awake) - when I was a little girl I got to stay awake for the opening scene and a few following skits with my sister Dawn and her boyfriend Billy, I thought I was a big shot. I saw the Killer Bees, Rosanne Roseanna Danna up close and personal. This show will always be special because of that memory.

I Lost My Man, Cause I'm a Titans Fan (Inspired by a true story)

When we started dating
You could find him in the front row.
He escorted me every week to O'Charley's
So I could attend the Jeff Fisher Show.

To win my hand he became a fan too.
He learned all the plays.
He wore Titans merchandise proudly.
And He never missed a game.

But I quickly found out it was only a ruse.
So he could win my heart.
He found out that he was at the end of the line.
Of Vince, Kyle, and Keith whose stats I could impart.

Chorus:

He bought me a headset so I could listen
To Mike Keith pre, during and post game.
But he drew the line on Wednesdays
When I listened to 104.5 the Zone and John McClain.

Yes, I lost my Man, `Cause I'm a Tennessee Titans Fan.

He only lasted through two seasons.

He began grumbling on the Titans shuttle.

He lost his spark and soon.

His high step faded from doing the Cupid Shuffle.

No one comes between me and the Titans
I thought as I watch Coach Fisher with glee.

I love seeing the players expressions.

Through the binoculars my ex-boyfriend gave me.

Our love affair ended last January.

He packed up and moved away.

We might still be together.

But I tune in to Plaster, Willy and Darren every day.

Chorus:
He bought me a headset so I could listen
To Mike Keith pre, during and post game.
But he drew the line on Wednesdays
When I listened to 104.5 the Zone and John McClain.
Yes, I lost my Man, `Cause I'm a Tennessee Titans Fan.

I wrote this song in honor of mom, Linda "Jazzy" Langley - a huge Tennessee Titans fan, whose boyfriend upon breaking up with her - gave her love of the game and the Titans as one of the reasons for the break-up - before he moved out of state. He also couldn't believe that she - "A woman" would listen to sports talk radio "every day."

What a waste of a whole season of tickets taking HIM to the game.

The Christmas Letter

You know those cheery Christmas letters (CL) you receive in the mail each year? I actually received less this year than normal.

The ones I did receive did have their usual, to be expected highlights. For example, I have been following with interest the news each year of a former college roommate's children's struggle with peanut allergies. Year 1 of the discovery they gave away their cats while trying to get to the bottom of the trouble. The next year found them ripping up their carpets and putting in hardwood floors. Year 3 they moved out of the allergy prone house. Year 6 finds them (with a dog in the photo) attending a national peanut allergy convention in Washington D.C. this spring... you get (long pause) the picture.

One CL is a pictograph of all the events one family has attended in the calendar year. Including 25 miniscule photos of said family with virtual strangers - they do include a key so you can keep up and try to guess who is who in said photo.

A friend at church launched into her CL with an entire paragraph filled with a detailed account of every GI bug her side of the family had, a cousin's illness and a remembrance of a death 11 years before and ended the paragraph with parentheses stating (enough heavy stuff). I'm glad she realized it too.

An extremely quiet and unassuming niece surprised everyone with the CL bombshell that she eloped to Viva Las Vegas. Now that is some NEWS! Best ever read in a CL and her mom included emails for everyone in the family -which I found very helpful. I can email quiet niece and exclaim my good wishes to the happy bride and groom.

Joking aside - the CLs are always welcome - I'm glad to be on the list and get the unabridged version of the modern day town crier. I got my cards out so late this year - I changed the photo card to one bearing a Happy New Year message. I didn't have any returned either and patted myself on the back until I realized that oh yeah, I didn't have time to put my return address on them.

Tonight I returned home after a festive New Year's Eve dinner with my mom and daughter and was tickled to notice a handwritten letter addressed to me (that always means - NO BILLS!).

I didn't recognize the return address. I opened the letter and a slim newspaper clipping slipped out. The letter started out as an introduction from the sister-in-law of an older couple I always send a Christmas card to... .

It seems this couple, who really stood by me during my parents lengthy separation and divorce, did not receive my card this year. Vera is in an Alzheimer's unit in Florida and Gil died seemingly of a broken heart six months later after she could no longer remember him. Some sad news to reflect on this New Year's Eve and the regret that I didn't stand by them and keep in better touch when they may have needed me the most. They forever touched my life that's for sure and I hope I stressed to both of them they had done that for me.

And their seemingly duel passing has touched me as well - thank God I will forever be the hopeless romantic who still hopes I will find a man that loves me that much who can no longer bear to live when my memory fails me.

These Christmas letters bring the moments that are important in people's lives - and why shouldn't they be able to brag about being successful as a family, a new union, pet or grandchild, European travels, raise health concerns, reflect on fun places visited in the past year and most importantly, deliver a simple message in a white envelope of that special kind of love that we all seek.

Things to Do in 2008

A new year has arrived and so much to do...no resolutions for me, but instead lofty goals worth giving serious thought to... .

1. Take more walks.
2. Listen more.
3. Talk less.
4. Set aside five minutes every day to be quiet and still.
5. Read.
6. Cook a new recipe.
7. Learn a new stitch (knitting).
8. Write a real letter.
9. Slow down.
10. Pray for what I really want out of life.

2008 is going to be great!

Someone to Watch Over Me

I was recently questioned by X (ex-husband to those who do not know) as to if I was seeing anyone. After insisting numerous times that it was none of his business, I broke down and told him yes. I was seeing someone. That simple answer shut him up. He seemed satisfied and hopefully he will leave the topic alone.

... What I failed to tell him that the man in my life is Orion the constellation of the nighttime winter sky whom I make direct eye contact with every night while walking Heidi. The three stars in his belt are a constant reminder of what his strengths are to me. Every night it's easy to find him. He's always there unless the clouds get in the way. Strangely, I find his presence comforting. From my front doorstep and my Eastward facing car window I can always find him up there in the sky waiting for me to notice him.

Calmly watching over me - it gives me pause and quiet reflection. After the latest admonissions from X. A very good friend told me she was going to pray for a strong and protective man to come into my life and make me feel safe. Kind of sounds like Orion.

I told her to please add to the list of attributes kind and financially stable. But for now Orion can be my main man. Tall, quiet, strong, safe and always there watching over me.

Discovering A Different Kind of Soul Mate

A soul mate sometimes enters our life as someone to stir us up ... To hold up the mirror so that we can see ourselves more clearly and antagonize us and make us so uncomfortable that we have to change because we can't continue to look at the same thing because we're looking at it clearly now." "The encounter is so intense and so clarifying that we burn through those things quickly."

-- Richard from Texas

Eat, Pray, Love

Michigan State Study: Divorce Isn't Eco-Friendly

Give me a break - to add to the pain and guilt of divorce - now I have to worry my divorce causing causing more than my unfair share of my ecological footprint. I read this recent study in Monday's Washington Post: "Divorce Isn't Eco-Friendly" and felt even more of the literal weight of the world shift on my tired and sore shoulders. The article has its merits and it's facts ring true, but picking on the divorced is laughable in this instance.

After all, the unmarried single women have had enough dumped on them over the past four decades Why don't they go ahead and praise the unmarried single men still living at home in their parents basement for saving the earth. White men would rejoice everywhere and the Republicans could use them as their poster boys on the global warming stage (even though its not happening). They could even trot them out on the Convention floor and allow them to tell their story with their photos projected on the big screen and a patriotic balloon drop in their honor.

Go ahead, pick on the divorced, to hear the experts tell it we are also contributing to the juvenile delinquency rate and the Christian conservatives label us as single moms like we are akin to road whores. As a divorcee does everything have to be blamed on me? I'm wondering if I'm off the hook now. Does that theory change when when one of the spouses remarry, because my ex-husband remarried last May and combined a household of 6 people - so that must mean for the past 7 months - I will take none of the blame this study places on me. They can take that to the dump along with the scarlet letter I removed from my right shoulder. Or maybe I should just recycle it.

The Musicians In Me

After working on a presentation for my "Music, Gender and Sexuality" course and breaching my own "is nothing sacred" cry (after some beloved composers and songs were presented to me in a different light ...and even beloved fairy tales dissected and showcased in a way that was shocking to me) I am working on my final presentation.

After this course, I have been enlightened, embarrassed, labelled a Pollyanna by a friend in class, and shocked. So I'm borrowing from the title of a song in the movie "You are the Music in Me" and composing my own little diddy... it goes something like this.

The Musicians in Me

Boston, Donna Summer, The Eagles
and Frampton Comes Alive
the music of my older sisters
became by 70s vibe.

In the early 80s it was Prince, The Gloved One,
Duran Duran and Loverboy,
Adam Ant in concert, Culture Club, REM,
our Material Girl slash Boy Toy.

Androgynous Annie became a Diva in the 90s
Springsteen, Bon Jovi and Aerosmith kept on rockin'
Garth became Chris Gaines, Nirvana gave us Grunge
and the college kids started moshing.

At the millenium, the Boy Bands faltered,
the Spice Girls lost their Grrrll Power
The Metal Bands joined AARP, rehabbed
and went on another Farewell Tour.

After taking this class now I ask myself?

• Will a gender bender make it to the American Idol stage? (they already have)
• Will Britney get her shit together and once again be all the rage? (probably not)
• Scissor sisters as a position? Am I really that naive? (yes!)
• And, what does it mean if I fancy the Sinatra-like swing of crooner Michael Buble?
• I sit in church and wonder what would the elders think if they knew Messiah's Handel was gay? (not too much probably)
• And finally, through caring about all this I wonder...does it chip my newfound radical feminism away?

My iTunes are my secret
But I'll listen to the musicians in me more carefully now
I've been enlightened, empowered, labelled a Pollyanna
and all I can say after taking this course -WOW!

A Final Step in Setting Myself Free

I just told a very close friend this morning that until she ends a floundering relationship that she will never be open to accepting a new one. She agreed, we said our goodbyes, I hung up and didn't think another thing of it.

As I trolled through my daily work of gathering and collecting news and announcements from med schools & centers across the country I came across the sweetest story: Two Dogs Spend 26 Days With Owner Who Died In The Wilderness and immediately thought of the person who I wanted to share it with.

So I took a deep breath, googled his email on the internet, put his address in the TO: box, wrote a brief note and clicked the Send button.

In sending it I discovered the biggest feeling of relief that washed over me. Why had I been afraid of sending an email to a terrific guy that I had shared so many wonderful moments and memories (of a special dog too!) with? We have both moved on with our lives - married other people, had the careers we planned on?? Was I afraid of being rejected again? I think so.

But I was able to send this before all that other stuff in the thought process got in the way. The words I told my close friend this morning came back to me albeit a tad differently. I haven't pined for this sweetheart since my divorce, while maybe I have, and I didn't unrealisticly think that he would come back and rescue me from my divorce distress but perhaps someone like him. Of course I wonder if I cross his mind? Isn't that normal?

Over the years, I've walked on many a beach and thrown countless but invisible good-bye messages in a bottle to this man, hoping to let that part of my heart go... . I have not been able to do so successfully.

But this morning, by clicking send - I confronted what I was afraid of with a friendly hi (after 15 years but who's counting?) and I'm gleefully discovering that I alone held the power to set myself FREE!!