Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Things That Make Life Worth Living--Thanksgiving Edition

I posted on Facebook that my thankfuls were 'shallow' this year, and then I proceeded to name off a bunch of fluff that basically shows me to be the self-centered, spoiled, ungrateful middle-class American that I am the other 364 days of the year.  But, seriously, isn't that what Thanksgiving has boiled down to?  Food, football, and shopping?  ;-)  Well, I have no desire to go all preachy, but...methinks I haven't done a 'reason for living' blog post in a while, so it might be time.

Reasons for Living (Reasons to be Thankful)
1.  I'm thankful for knowledge and my ability to absorb it:  for National Public Radio, the History Channel, Newsweek, Smithsonian, for books, and countless museums, and friends who are smarter than me and share their knowledge and life's wisdom.
2.  I'm thankful for food and drink:  peanutbutter M&Ms, Burger King's cookie dough pie, Mozzi's pizza, stir-fried rice, and catfish strips at Montana Mike's.  Diet Sunkist, vanilla milk shakes, apples, spicettes and chocolate chip cookies.
3.  I'm thankful for entertainment:  for "Glee" and YouTube and Facebook and the Onion, musical theatre, the song-writing contest, Harry Potter, and hilarious TV commercials.
4.  I'm thankful for technology:  for Comcast on Demand and Hulu, CGI, social networking, my computer, e-mail, voice mail and text messages on my iPhone.
5.  I'm thankful for comfort:  cowboy slippers, my leggings, my wraps, and my sweatshirt collection, heat in my car, my couch, the warm little rat dog who isn't happy unless she's cuddled up next to me, and fires in the fireplace, and for my snuggly husband.
6.  I'm thankful for the people in my life:  for the ones who give hugs; the ones who  make me laugh and the ones who laugh with me; the ones who talk to me, the ones who listen, and the ones with whom I can be silent; the ones who love me and the ones I love in return.

I'm thankful for it all.  Does it get any better than this?  Well...does it?

Friday, November 19, 2010


This is not my writing....but I heard it on this morning's "Writer's Almanac" and LOVED it...
By the time I was six months old, she knew something
was wrong with me. I got looks on my face
she had not seen on any child
in the family, or the extended family,
or the neighborhood. My mother took me in
to the pediatrician with the kind hands,
a doctor with a name like a suit size for a wheel:
Hub Long. My mom did not tell him
what she thought in truth, that I was Possessed.
It was just these strange looks on my face—
he held me, and conversed with me,
chatting as one does with a baby, and my mother
said, She's doing it now! Look!
She's doing it now! and the doctor said,
What your daughter has
is called a sense
of humor. Ohhh, she said, and took me
back to the house where that sense would be tested
and found to be incurable.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Zombie Dream

Last night, I dreamed I was being chased by zombies.  The early part of the dream involved lots of running, chasing, barricading myself in rooms with rickety doors (by wedging a chair under the doorknob), and approaching people I knew only to realize that they were zombies.  You could tell if they were zombies because they would stare at you without blinking and then when they opened their mouths, you could see their grey and rotted teeth.

Eventually, fate caught up with me and I was bitten on the arm by Brock Rittenhouse, an old high school friend [that I haven't seen in 30 years].  I turned to my companions and began repeating over and over again, “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!”

We all sat down to wait for the change—of me, into a zombie.  We did various things—read, cleaned….I was sewing.  Then suddenly, a fogginess enveloped me and I went limp.  I shouted to those around me, “Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye!”

Now I’m sure those of you who are reading this are sure that it’s an allegory for what’s happening in my life right now.  I would be inclined to agree with that, too, but this dream has a punchline.  Read on….

After the fogginess passed, I went back to sewing, the only thing having changed was that I was now officially a zombie.  I sat and sewed…and sewed and sewed and sewed.  And then I said, “Wow.  My attention span is a lot longer now that I’m a zombie.”   

End of dream.  I woke up.