A ceremony of life

I think everyone, once in a while, should absorb some cultural enlightenment. God only knows we need it. I had the honor of doing that today. Okay, I had to fly to New York to do it, but it was well worth it.

A friend of mine- a lovely, funny, sweet, smart, beautiful Indian woman- is expecting her first child. Her husband and his best friend planned (and carried off beautifully) a surprise baby shower.

Another friend of mine, Beverly Girl (BG), joined me as the only other non-Indian person at this very personal, very detailed Indian ceremony. I thought that with my fair skin and blonde hair that I might feel odd, somehow singled out in this group of mocha-skinned, lovely accented females but they were as warm in spirit and smiles as their food was HOT.

The mom-to-be (let's call her Radiance, since she was very radiant today) changed from her Western hemisphere attire into a traditional Indian sari. The melon-colored layering of silk adequately disguised her 7-month belly. Around her neck was a handmade necklace of fresh pink carnations. She looked beautiful.

She wore a multitude of delicate bangles in shades of red, gold, yellow and green to symbolize not only her married status but the future which would surely hold many years of happily married life.

Joining her husband on the sofa, the couple were showered with blessings from each of the women in the group. One by one, each was invited to dip a finger into a tiny bowl of magenta powder and lightly mark the forehead of the mother and father-to-be. A light showering with raw rice completed the best wishes. I was surprised and humbled when the women allowed me to join in this ceremony.

In India, the mother-to-be leaves her home after 3 or 4 months of pregnancy and lives with her mother until about 6 months after the baby is born. Such is the tie that binds mother and daughter.

The Indian women draped Radiance with another sheet of intricately decorated silk fabric and on it they placed numerous pieces of fruit and ceremonial gifts of silk. This is the gift the mother will take with her when she leaves her mother's home.

With that, the Indian ceremony ended and the American part began with presents and fabulous food (Indian, of course!) and cake. The joining together of two cultures in one simply beautiful day in New York.

A world power

I've always been proud of my city, but not necessarily my country. And this week has been just another example of good hearts stepping up to the plate when supposedly good minds have not.

My overseas friends may have heard that Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast of the US earlier this week. That simple statement doesn't come close to describing the magnitude of the devastation. Worst yet, people trapped in Louisiana and Mississippi are literally starving to death.

The media has shown images of dead bodies on the street and reports have come in of looting, shots fired at rescue helicopters and elderly people trapped in the attics of their homes. There is no clean water and no food. It is hell.

One Chicago man, John Maas, has decided to take matters into his own hands and try to save his Mississippi hometown. He was interviewed yesterday on WGN-TV and asked anyone who can help to please donate food, water, clothing, baby supplies, etc.

That was 24 hours ago.

This morning, the same man was interviewed in a warehouse and he has automobile-sized piles of bottled water, baby diapers and formula, canned food. He said that a local trucking company has offered to drive all the supplies down to Mississippi and help his hometown. (Way to go Chicago!)

From the WGN website:

We've been following the relief efforts of John Maas on our newscasts. If you'd like to help, you can drop off donations at: New Life Community Church and Center, 51st and Keeler (near Midway), 773/838-9470.
Mr. Maas is planning to leave for Mississippi Saturday morning.
To contact Mr. Maas directly:708-743-6562

That's one great guy!

What's our federal government doing? Well, the President JUST LANDED on the Gulf Coast today (four days after the hurricane). If I recall correctly, the President was in NY just ONE day after Sept. 11.

Of course, scores of media personnel have been on the scene for days. If the reporters can get there, why can't emergency personnel with food and water??

If you'd like to help, please contact the American Red Cross, Salvation Army or Catholic Charities.

One more thing....I'd like to give credit to CNN for its incredible coverage of the storm, the flooding and the aftermath. The news crew seems to be shifting its focus as necessary, showing rescues of stranded people from rooftops, interviewing survivors and letting them give names of people who are missing, and keeping up to date with the internet websites that are popping up to help survivors. (I guess I notice stuff like this because I used to be a reporter).

On a lighter note....contributions to the Katrina aid fund have been received from Britain, Japan, Australia and...Sri Lanka! God love em!!!

Why I quit smoking

When I heard someone shout my name at the Cubs game on Sunday, I turned around to see "DJ," someone I used to know in college. I haven't seen him in about 7 years. Quite the surprise. He looks the same, only bigger. (Why is it that women get old, but men get fat?)

Back then, he had tried to date me, but thankfully, I dodged that landmine and we became friends. He was fun to hang out with, had an interesting job and knew some fascinating people.

As usual, I was entirely too generous in my friendship with him, throwing him a 17-hour surprise birthday party (at his house). Prior to that, I had talked him into asking a woman to the Farm Aid concert (he later married, and divorced her).

Over the years, I've attended the birthday parties for his twin sons and have joined him for other special events where I've met his parents and siblings (who, apparently, still ask about me).

What happened, you may ask?

About one year after my divorce, I was asked to participate in a bachelorette auction. Needless to say, I was more than a little nervous, putting my entire self worth on display for a bunch of strangers to decide if I was worth bidding on. I decided to ask whatever male friends I had to attend and start the bidding.

I asked DJ and he said he couldn't afford it ($25), so I said I'd front the ticket. He said he didn't have a suit (didn't need one). He didn't have a previously scheduled work event, mind you. He had tons of lame excuses for why he couldn't help me. It occurred to me that he was NEVER there when I needed him.

Like smoking, my friendship with DJ was bad for me: expensive (in my time and efforts), damaging (in the numerous disappointments) with no real benefits (other than meeting fun people).

So I quit cold turkey.

When I saw him on Sunday, it was our first contact since the auction years ago. He said he figured I hated him since he hadn't seen me in a long time. But he didn't know why we lost touch. (He never made any effort to contact me).

I held no punches. "You were never there for me when I needed you. Being friends with you was too much work, so I quit."

It was like talking to a wall. My words had absolutely no effect. Teflon Man.

He chatted away about his parents and siblings. He's at the same job, but has a different wife (his third). She walked up as we talked and although I tried to direct my conversation to both of them, she seemed indifferent to my presence. I saw pictures of their combined family (his two boys, now teens, her teenage daughter, and their baby girl). I wonder how long this one will last?

You know? I can breathe better already.

And no, no sign of Cubfan and that is fine with me.

Blast from the past

Cubman and I dated for 7 months in 2002. or was it 2001? (You'd think I'd remember this stuff with the scarcity of boyfriends in my life). We met at a Cubs game and the "relationship" got to the point where his friends thought we were getting engaged. Yeah, right! About two weeks after one of his friends voiced that opinion, we broke up (not because of that, not directly anyway).

I won't deny that the break-up (I guess you'd call it mutual, even though I was the one who made the final break) left me pretty disillusioned with men as a species. After getting over the hurt, I realized that Cubman wasn't a bad guy per se, just a person who made poor decisions.

It was difficult to see him at Cubs games, since I continued to go to games, but usually alone. Fortunately, there was always the game itself to distract me from our conversations. And then he wasn't there anymore...

Until a few weeks ago.

He came down from his usual spot, found me in my usual area and interrupted a conversation I was having with a baseball scout. He kept saying how great I looked (honestly, I don't think I've changed much) and said he just got a new job and he's going out of town for training. Turns out, he was unemployed for more than a year!

Since then, he's included me in a group email of Cubs-related spam. I didn't realize that my email address had stayed the same.

There is a special event this weekend during the Cubs' home series and Cubman might be there. Hmmn....

One in a million

Now tell me honestly, does this look like the type of place to harbor a killer?
According to CNN, SHARK ATTACK

some diver became lunch for a great white shark off the coast of Adelaide (don't worry, I'm not going to Adelaide).

For those statisticians out there, the chances of me getting snacked on by a shark are 1 in 10 million. Compare that to the 1 in 4.3 million chance of getting hit by lightning and sure, I'll go snorkeling. Of course, even better are the odds of getting hurt falling out of bed (1 in 370,000). Personally, I think this last one depends on how much Jack Daniels is consumed. ;-0.

It's so bizarre to think that my favorite country has so many ways to kill me! Spiders, snakes, sharks...you want to get killed? Australia can accommodate. If you don't believe me, read "In a Sunburnt Country" by Bill Bryson. It's hysterical, in a scary kinda way!

By the way, this photo was taken in Port Douglas, a tiny little town near the jump-off point for the Great Barrier Reef. Picture Key West, Florida about 40 years ago. It has one main street and you can walk from one end of town to the other in about 15 minutes (20 minutes if you window shop).

65 days and counting!

Garbage-picking, corporate level

"Pretty nice, huh?"
When my boss walked past my desk carrying two more-than-slightly-used solid wood in/out boxes that he pilfered from the dumpster near the freight elevator, I had to shake my head.

We have officially become garbage-pickers, I thought. How low will we sink?

Another coworker proudly walked off with a small green plant with intentions of dressing up her desk area.

Having seen my boss' loot, I strolled over to the hallway that held the remnants of what used to be our neighbor's office. In front of me was a Toyota-sized gray dumpster or as I like to call it, the homeless person's Office Max.

Our one and only neighbor on this floor moved out on Friday. It's not that we have the rest of the floor to ourselves, it's more a case of our little office being surrounded by a bunch of nothingness. I'm trying to look on the bright side and realize that anyone that gets off the elevator on the 24th floor is, by default, coming to see us. I guess that's good.

Just so you know, my haul consisted of exactly one thing and it's pretty sad actually: a round, rolling step stool that sits flat on the ground when stepped on.

My mother would be proud.

DC - there and back

Note to self: Never fly into or out of O'Hare during the weekend of the Air and Water Show.
Result? One+ hour spent baking in a 747 oven on the tarmac at hot-as-hell Reagan National Airport. Thank G for iPods and much-needed naps!
Anyway, back to my visit with Jada in DC.

I didn't go to our nation's capitol as a tourist to see the Washington Monument, the White House and the endless museums. I went to DC as Jada's friend and we did stuff that she would ordinarily do on a weekend.

We spent Saturday afternoon at the Virginia Wine Festival (where we decided to be very "Martha's Vineyard" in pretty dresses and sun hats). Mother Nature found this very funny, apparently, because she cranked the heat.
Think lying in a cast-iron frying pan over open flame, smothered in bacon grease.
IT.WAS.HOT.
Oh, and the humidity in DC? Beautiful silk floral dress, a wide-brimmed summer chapeau (Audrey Hepburn would be proud!) and a river of sweat streaming down my back. EWWW!!
Nevertheless, we sauntered through the festival, thinking cool thoughts and sipping a variety of locally produced white wines. It was wonderful!!

Back in DC in the late afternoon, we cleaned up, sacrificed fresh clothes to the heat and headed to Georgetown. Mellowed by an afternoon of wine-drinking, we made our way to a funky Middle Eastern restaurant called Mie n Yu ("me and you").

On the way up to our third-floor dining room, we passed a large round table of eight people enclosed in the world's largest bird cage! How fun!! On another level, off to the left side of the staircase on a small landing was a very private four-person booth surrounded by velvet curtains.
Our dining room had hot pink walls meeting an orange ceiling. Each table's seating featured a daybed covered in satin and beaded pillows with fringed curtains separating the neighbors. Everywhere you looked was something beautiful and elaborate to see and to touch. Oh, and the food was great too!

Sunday morning was spent at the East Market, an antiques, produce and handicrafts fair that occurs every weekend in the District (Capitol Hill area). After perusing the vintage furniture, we came across a table full of purses with a strangely familiar zigzag design. Made by a company in Miami, the coin purses, clutches and totes are made from gum wrappers! The multicolored papers once held gum from foreign countries (so no green Wrigley Spearment purses!), then folded and braided into fabulous designs.

Had they not been on the pricey side, I definitely would've brought (at least) one home with me. (I have a "thing" about spending more $$ on a purse than I have to put in it.)

The best part of the weekend, however, was being able to re-connect with my friend while doing everyday things. Uninterrupted by friends and family, we had time to talk...really talk. The stay-up-till-2-am kind of talk.

Time spent with good friends is so important to me. Sometimes its value lies in the opportunity to vent my frustrations caused by the stalemate that is my life. More often, like this weekend, it is the chance to be a sounding board for my friends when they need a shoulder.

I've always envied (and been intimidated by) the life my friend Jada leads: great job, fun city, Dr. husband, loving and admiring family. All the pieces in place for a successful life.

Or so I thought...

Without going into details, let's just say that her life isn't as perfect as I've always imagined and I'm afraid it's taking a toll on her. She's more introspective and less joyful. She doesn't laugh as easily as she used to. But, as with everything else, she keeps plugging along, trying to fight this intruder into her bliss.

Jada has been there for me during divorce, boyfriend breakups, job stress and all that crap and I intend to do the same for her. I just hope God poured wisdom into my words of advice. Things aren't perfect for her, but she trusted me enough to share her disappointments and hurt with me. For this I will always love her.

Things I've been asked to bring from Chicago

Occasionally, my friends in other parts of the country (and world) ask me to bring them souvenirs from sweet home Chicago.
Do they want a Cubs jersey? NO!
Do they want a picture of the Chicago skyline? NO!
Do they want Oprah Winfrey's autograph? NO!

Here's what they want:

- -To Vienna: teriyaki beef jerky and Dr. Pepper soda
- -To London: strawberry Twizzlers, Mike and Ike candy (didn't know there were three flavors, only brought two...failed my mission) and ibuprofen (okay, not technically a Chicago item, but apparently quite pricey in the UK). They didn't ask for, but I added a bag of Tootsie Rolls because they (and all Ferrara Pan items) are SO Chicago!
- -To Washington, DC: Garrett's caramel/cheese popcorn mix and six double White Castle burgers (2 each of jalapeno cheese, french onion cheese and bacon cheese) plus one order of onion rings ('cause they rock!)

So far, no problems with US Customs. But maybe it's the Food and Drug Administration I should worry about?
Anyway, I'm always happy to spread Windy City joy!

No worries!

72 days and counting! Less than three months until I'm back Down Under!!! What do you mean "back?" Well, yes, I've been to Australia before. Three times, actually. Believe it or not, I took this picture!!

I've been very lucky to be able to be totally hedonistic on my birthday these last five years. My friends aren't as lucky, so I've been flying solo (insert joke here). It's okay, though, because I've managed to meet a TON of fun people on my trips. But why be away from home on my birthday??

(Cue the violins)...As the youngest in a very large family, we didn't have too many birthday parties when I was growing up. I do remember one real party (with cake and ice cream, plus friends and games and prizes). I think I was 8 or 9 years old. Usually, my birthday was pretty much like any other day except we had cake after dinner and I got a gift from my parents. (Oh, and I had to bring cupcakes or candy or whatever to share with my classmates.)

At some point I decided that I would stop waiting for someone else to make my birthday special. I would do it myself. So far, I've been to Australia 3 times, Hawaii once and Buenas Aires once. If you might have guessed, there's a pattern here.

Although years ago I had promised myself not to go to the same place twice, Australia is just too good! (Those of you that have been there know what I mean). But I AM varying things a bit this year as I've decided to hit Perth along with favorites, Port Douglas (near the Great Barrier Reef) and Sydney (landing point in Oz).

Has anyone been to Perth? I've been reading up on it and Perth sounds great with beaches, great restaurants and it's not too far from the Margaret River area (fabulous vineyards)!

Is it too early to stock up on sunscreen?

Does this happen to other women??

I just returned from a late lunch (actually just a break to see daylight and let my eyes recover from computer strain). Ran across the street to get a side salad and find a place to sit in the sun. There's a great little courtyard that's about a dozen steps up from the sidewalk, so I decided to sit there.

My skirt, however, decided to entertain the tourists waiting for the bus on the corner and flew up on (almost) all sides. No screaming (I just swear), I grabbed as much as I could and sat down faster than the last competitor in musical chairs!

After tucking as much of my skirt under me as possible, I ate my salad and then "tested the waters" of getting up. Nope, the wind was coming from everywhere. I was trapped!

I mulled over my options: 1) spend the night here and hope the wind dies down, 2) find the largest tourist I can and walk VERY CLOSE behind him to my building, 3) call my boss and ask him to bring me his belt.

Wait a minute! A belt? I have a belt on this skirt. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I created the newest fashion statement by tying my belt at the top of my thighs (and saying a silent prayer that it held). I'm calling it "The Hefty Bag."

Oh, and I think I've decided to sew ball bearings into the hem of this skirt.

The long and winding road

Yesterday was "walk home day" for me. Once a week, I walk home from work, a distance of 5 or 6 miles. This is my (admittedly) piss poor attempt to erase the effects of a summer full of Wrigley Field's beer and hotdogs.

I started this "workout" a few months ago and my first WHD took me over 2 1/2 hours! I decided to take the path along the lakefront, very scenic, but not very direct (as my boss pointed out on a map recently). ooops!

The WHD has, however, given me an opportunity to drain the office bullshit and frustration from my mind and arrive home calm and thoughtful (not to mention sweaty and smelly).

Interesting notes from recent WHDs:
- so THAT's where the Diversey driving range is!
- YES, people do actually buy little shoes for their dogs (thought that only happened on the East and West coasts). Too funny!
- picnicking on the lakefront is not limited to the grassy areas as I came across an older couple struggling to open a bottle of wine on the cement "beach" north of Oak Street along the outer drive. I trimmed some days off purgatory by letting them use the bottle opener on my keychain.
- why on earth would the Chicago German community authorize a statue for German philosopher Goethe that looks like a Roman eagle trainer? what's that about?? (It's at Diversey and Sheridan.)

But I digress...

As I said, my first WHD took more than 2 1/2 hours. Since then, I've been trying to cut my time without cutting the distance. And don't say, "Take up running!" Forget it! I don't run unless somebody's chasing me...and they're armed!

According to my pedometer, I walked 14,747 steps yesterday (including during my workday). Sounds pretty impressive, doesn't it? A person of 125-130 pounds needs 10,000 steps to work off 300 calories, so I probably lost oh, maybe half a Big Mac! Big effin deal!

Lately, I've noticed that my route changes from week to week and the diversions usually take place in the parks north of North Avenue. On my first WHD, I was distracted by a softball game on a hidden-away diamond. Last week, I got sidetracked onto a shady little path that left me two blocks off-course.

The paths, cute and curvy as they are, are a delightful way to spend an afternoon or evening, but not very helpful to me. While the Chicago Park District paths might lead you past a gaggle of grazing geese (like the alliteration?) or through beautifully landscaped gardens, they are someone else's idea of where to go.

But which path should I take to get where I'm going? I guess the most direct way to get where you need to be is to find your own way, make your own path.

Imperatives

"Must Love..." read the theatre ticket stub that I found in the bottom of my purse recently. In the Diane Lane/John Cusack movie, the imperative was of the canine variety, but it gave me reason to ponder my own social situation.

In the search for a partner, I find my list of absolutes has become more simplified...or has it? Could it be because the pool of appropriate candidates is considerably smaller as I tiptoe toward the dreaded "middle age"?? Is it because I've softened in my needs and wants or, more likely, I've gotten tired of looking for Mr. Perfect and will shrug my shoulders and accept Mr. Pretty Good? (Geez, I'd hate to think that!)

What are my prerequisites for Mr. Perfect?? (let's keep a good thought that he's out there)

Okay, must.....

• be single. (just wasted four hours on Saturday talking to a toad who is not only MARRIED, but expecting his first child!!)
• not smoke. If I want to smell like an ashtry, I'll hang out in bars (at least until the smoking ban passes!)
• love to travel. I believe there is no better way to know yourself and accept others than to meet new friends on their own soil. The experience is enriched exponentially when the new friends speak a new language!
• love baseball. There is, of course, a stipulation for this: can NOT be a fan of either the White Sox (hate-filled, crude, drunk, disrespectful, inbred, and completely void of sports knowledge) or the St. Louis Cardinals (my Cubs loyalty would not allow this).
• be in reasonably good physical condition (she said as she looked down at cellulite-dimpled thighs and a no-longer-flat stomach.)
• be able to straddle that fine line between self-confident and cocky. Is there anything LESS attractive than a grown man with no confidence?
• have a slightly bent sense of humor. Like a fine red wine, dry is good.
• be financially stable. Blockbuster and a pizza is a fine date...when you're 17.
• love his family, even if that family is only a few friends and a dog. Some blood relationships are not ones we'd choose and I won't blame a guy if his brother is a drug-addicted habitual liar.

I used to think that blond and blue-eyed were attributes on my "must-have" list, but since my would-be suitors have aged, blond men have gone gray (or bald), so this shallow ideal has been eliminated. (Of course, if my doctor..he of the cornflower blue eyes and sandy blond hair....invited me on a date, I'd have to reconsider. ;-))

Am I asking for too much?

Who ARE these guys?!?!

Having lost eight games in a row, I figured my boys (the Cubs) couldn't beat my grandma's bridge team! But then, low and behold, the boys in blue show up and take three of four from the rat bastard Cardinals!
Prior got the win and Dempster the save on Sunday, but for me, the highlight was seeing the big guy (Kerry Wood) come in and strike out 4 in two innings of relief. A group of guys behind us started chanting, "We got Wood!" I think Kerry was pretty excited to be able to help his team beat St. Louis. He's one guy who understands the importance of this rivalry.
Now it's on to Houston...

Anyone know a rain dance?

My boys are really stinking up the place lately and with the rat bastard Cardinals coming to town for a 4-game series, there is a distinct chance we will be thoroughly humiliated by the men in red.
I know it's been rainy, but that's not good enough. Personally, I'm praying for a monsoon. Maybe if we delay the games, the Cubs will have enough time to pull their blue-capped heads out of their pin-striped backsides and PLAY. THE. GAME!
I read recently where Aramis Ramirez has been playing hurt. Seems he pulled a right quad muscle on July 27 and has been "playing smart" since then (also known as "taking it easy"). The third baseman agreed that his injury effects his entire game; batting, running and playing defense. The numbers prove it: 6 for 30 in 8 games in August (0 for 15 in last 4 games), plus 15 errors in 105 games this year (he only made 10 in 144 games last year).
Somebody please explain how it helps the Cubs to keep him in the game when he can't bat, run or field in his current condition??? How 'bout putting him on the DL and playing Jose Macias at third, or better yet, bringing up Scott McClain from AAA Iowa? McClain's batting .292 with 81 RBIs and I'll bet he will bust his ass going to first.
Just a suggestion.
Ooooh, it's raining and the Cubs/Cards game has been delayed! I'll dance faster...

A special time

I can't decide if I like the recorded messages that I get from my dentist. It's nice to have the reminder with the receptionist's voice inserting my name in the appropriate spot. But it's kinda disappointing to see the little light on my answering machine (I have a message!!) only to hear the impersonal recording. :-((

Recently, I've started to receive them from my doctor's office, too. Like last night. I came home and dialed into my voicemail only to hear the reminder plus "if you can't make your appointment, please call our office as this special time has been reserved just for you."

Okay, WHAT?!?! "Special" is not exactly the word I would use to describe having a medieval-looking metal device shoved into (what my mom calls) my "private area" while I silently count the holes in the ceiling tiles and breathe through my mouth!

Oh, did I mention that my new doctor is cute, blond and single?!?!?! Yeah, that's SPECIAL!

A reality check

Okay, here I am feeling depressed about the Cubs' 6-game losing streak. My wonderful friends have suffered through my ranting about their lack of effort and seeming disregard for the loyal fans.

Just when I'm feeling sorry for myself, reality comes along and gives me a smack upside my head. CNN has just reported that Dana Reeve (widow of actor Christopher "Superman" Reeve) has lung cancer.

Tell me this woman hasn't already been through enough, caring for her paralyzed husband for nine years before his death last year. She said she's already started treatment and can feel Chris with her, especially now.

Peter Jennings of ABC News announced he had lung cancer in April and died just the other day. The American Cancer Society reports that the 5-year survival rate for lung cancer patients is 15%.

God speed, Dana.

Thank G for friends

I'm one of those people who doesn't have a TON of friends, just a few close ones. Sometimes I wish I had a whole mob o' pals, but then I remember how lucky I am to have these few people in my life. I wouldn't want to "water down" the intimacy that I have with these wonderful people.

I spent this past weekend with one of my friends (Firecracker) and it was a real, too-much-to-do, too-little-time, fun-packed summer weekend. She works so much that she hasn't had too many of these yet...and its already August!

We attended a street fest in my neighborhood that celebrates the gay lifestyle (neither of us are). She got hit on by at least 3 guys (and one of them was gay!) Quite an accomplishment for a straight girl in that 'hood!

We've only known each other a few years, and it's wonderful that we can both share intimate details of our pasts without judgement (a conscious effort for me), call each other with silly little comments about how much our Cubs suck lately, and discuss the pros and cons of shopping at Victoria Secret. I'm very thankful that we've become friends and I hope I never take our friendship for granted.

I'm afraid that I've grown apart from my East Coast friend (I'll call her Jada) in the time since she's moved out there. Hopefully, my visit will help to mend any bonds that have broken or been stretched too thin.

She visited me recently and saw immediately that something was wrong. Well, if you could call having no direction in my life a problem, then yes. Jada let me know that there's a wine festival in her area while I'm there. I believe a nice reisling could push us toward the conversation that is so woefully overdue.

Jada is one of the most fabulous, creative, loving and accepting people I know and I find myself being intimidated by her life. She made a plan for herself when she was, oh, probably 4 years old and she's stuck to it. She's got a master's degree and is married to a doctor and here I am, divorced (no boyfriend) with a crappy, dead-end job. I'm not jealous, just envious.

We'll need a LOT of wine, I think. But that's what friends are for, right?

Secret admirer??

For the second Monday in a row, I came to my desk to find a water glass filled with flowers. Last week, it was a huge hydreanga (sp?). A beautiful, smoky pink blossom that overflowed the Crate & Barrel glass. As the week wore on, the antique shade became even more lovely as the petals began to dry.

This week, I have yellow lilies (one open, two ready-to-open) and some other multi-budded cream-colored flower (maybe sweet pea?). Really pretty and fresh, very summer-ish.

I asked around to the usual suspects (colleagues who have gardens), but no go. Hmmn??

The travel suggestion

I got a letter the other day from one of my brothers (have 5, all older). He suggested I take my mom to Croatia. Yep, a pretty strange request, but let me explain some things:
- I love to travel internationally and have been fortunate enough to be able ($ and time) to take myself on a birthday vacation (November) each year for the past 5.
- My mom is second-generation Croatian and would very much like to see the place where both her parents were born.
- My mom is 77 but still very mobile and in good health. She just came back from a visit to the East Coast to visit my sister, so flying is not a problem.

So, what's the big deal? Well, the letter came from a brother who lives with my mom (because he's been unemployed for a few years). Needless to say, he doesn't have the $$ to take my mom anywhere.
BUT!
I am NOT the only family member with a decent-paying job and no spouse or kids to complicate matters. There are 9 (NINE) children in our family and I am the youngest.
I am NOT the only family member who enjoys international travel.
I already spend considerable $$$ buying gifts for my family during said vacations.
And I already drive 40 minutes each way to take my mom out to breakfast each Saturday morning.

But, of course, the Catholic guilt is starting to seep in (as I use my brother's letter as a coaster on my coffee table.)

Here's the plan...I already did some reconnaisance during breakfast this morning and found out that my mom has been to Croatia once, but not the island where her parents were born. I think if I can find a tour group that goes to Croatia (and allows for free time to go island-hopping), I might be able to convince my siblings to chip in and buy my mom the trip for Christmas!

Why don't I join her???

Well, I like to walk around a lot on my vacations. I think it's the best way to see a new place and meet its people. At 77, my mom likes to walk, but not so much. Also, her generation would not DREAM of going out alone at night (and going with me would be considered alone because we don't have a man with us. Crazy, but true!)

I really think a tour group of older adults might be the best way.

By the way, while talking about travel, my mother told me that during the last tour of Croatia, a widowed man in their group (my mom is a widow) asked her if she would "have dinner with a poor man." My mom said, "I don't date poor men." Fabulous! I would've loved to have known my mom as a young single girl!

summer cold

So this is what it feels like to drop acid...hmm. Not bad, kinda calming actually.
I have a summer cold and a while ago I popped some Walgreens brand, multi-colored pills that are supposed to dry up the Niagara Falls that is my nasal cavity. Guess I should've waited until after lunch but too late now!!
Think anyone would notice if I put my head down on my desk and napped for say, 2 or 3 hours?? Maybe if I didn't snore...
Doped up on cold medicine, I stumbled out of the office for a late lunch. Tomorrow's storm is causing today's gale-force winds outside my building and that, combined with my blurred consciousness, has caused me to stroll a la drunken sailor. I've decided to follow the seam in the middle of the sidewalk to minimize crashes.
By the time I emerged from my single-minded concentration, I was about 4 blocks away from my office, standing in front of a Subway sandwich shop. That'll do, since I was one step from "eat roadkill" starvation.
At least I wasn't in such an altered state that I forgot to flirt with a cute legal-type at Subway. At least, I THINK he was cute...
and I THINK it was a guy.