tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40869799562368073172024-03-05T02:03:36.287-08:00Living WellSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.comBlogger318125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-38646187251893571052013-02-18T05:49:00.000-08:002013-02-18T05:49:16.284-08:00Not....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Not writing today...stuff is going down and my focus needs to be elsewhere.<br />
<br />
Peace,<br />
<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-87806712475144474542013-02-15T07:33:00.000-08:002013-02-15T07:41:28.121-08:00A Mother's Choice/Definitely Shaken<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Friday and one week and a day until my party! It's perfect to have a huge event looming - quiets my often overactive mind to have a huge task at hand. Focusing on logistics, putting grocery lists together, lugging cooler and drink tubs from the garage, amassing bowls and silverware, putting out vases where a dozen dozen roses will be displayed. And thanks to Amazon Prime and free shipping it was painless to order three dozen Irish coffee glasses and balloon wine glasses to replace ones broken since the last party. This weekend, more work on the five soups and the cakes (unfrosted) will be made and frozen. I'll remind Bobby to bring his sound system, check in with Michael, the masseur to ensure he hasn't forgotten the date (he will be set up in my bedroom giving massages to anyone who wants one). This is going to be one helluva party! Martha Steward ain't got nuthin' on me!<br />
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Neighbors Una and Henry bopped over yesterday evening for an unauthorized Valentine's Day martini (Valentine's Day is NOT a federal holiday!) There was a whole shaken versus stirred debate. I, like James Bond, prefer my martinis battered and bruised (I shake the bejesus out of them). Henry prefers a gentle stir to create a drink less watered down with more of a bite. Una just likes them. They were worried about me home alone on Valentine's Day - so sweet! I hope I'm not that pathetic that people worry unnecessarily about me in that way! I was fine yesterday - 'twas just another day, barely noticed the "holiday". Didn't make or receive a single Valentine. Was wistful only once but shook it off and said, "Who knows...next year on 2/14 I might be in love and in Paris!"<br />
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Been thinking about my writing. Gearing up to start writing the narrative that will connect all the songs in my Burt Bacharach show. Friends have also been pushing me to pick up the novel I started a year plus ago - it's a great premise and it needs to be written. Realizing there's an undercurrent to my writing - something Kaveh and I never got to the bottom of was why I'm fixated on the death of children. Joke at the writing group is that just about everything I write has dead babies in it - it's a Sarah theme. I also dream about children dying all the time. Most often my writing and dreams include two children - often twins. So what's up with that and why did Kaveh leave that untouched? Hmmm...<br />
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Reading through old pieces I wrote in the group - here is one from about a year ago.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The doctor put his hand on my arm and said gently, "You or the baby will survive, but not both of you. I'm so sorry." </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Says you," I yelled, defiantly. "You're an idiot!" There were enough idiots in the world, I reasoned as I whipped my Beretta out of my backpack and shot him accurately between his eyes. I slipped from the examining table, tossed my backpack over one shoulder and held my gown closed as I ventured cautiously into the hall. Thanks to the silencer, the gunshot had gone undetected. </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Who's in charge here?" I demanded of the nurse at the station "Bitch, you've got exactly five second to get your smug cow-face out of that Sudoko puzzle you're doing and answer me!" Nurse Crachit or Crotch-less, or whatever her name was, snapped to. </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"I'm in charge," she said with fear in her eyes. </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"No I mean really in charge - head doctor, surgeon - chief of the universe - whatever - get him NOW!" I bellowed. </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>She scrambled away from me like a sideways crab.I realized I was waving the Berretta around again - I had a habit of doing that. Pacing and waiting, I weighed my options. Doctor Idiot had to be wrong - he was just covering his ass. My daddy always told me to never take no for an answer. It mortified me when I was little to hear him bargain and wheedle his way, extracting "Well, maybe's" or "Just-for-you's" from store managers who just got tired of dealing with his shit. I wished he were here now - he would know what to do. </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Mam, I'd like to help you. Would it be possible to sit down and discuss your options? Possible for you to put the gun down so we can talk more easily?" </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>He was young to be in charge of anything and impossibly handsome but I was tired - the drugs were starting to take effect. I slumped into a chair and he sat next to me - reached for my hand.</i></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"I know this is a blow but I'm afraid there is no third alternative. We can't save both you and the baby." </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I believed him. "What the fuck! I guess baby it is!" Without warning I put the gun in my mouth and made a mother's choice.</i></span></blockquote>
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<br />
Not going to Weight Watcher's tomorrow. On a scale of 1-10, my week was a 9 (previous weeks have been take-no-prisoners 10's. I slipped ever so slightly and I didn't exercise much. If I get on that hated scale one more week and show no loss or another .4 reduction, my resolve is sure to crumble completely (I know myself). There's a risk, certainly, in skipping a week - that can also be a set up for failure (a slippery slope) - I'm mindful of that. Goal is to have an amazing active week (activity will be way up with party prep) and to give myself the gift on the morning of my party of a weight loss of a couple of pounds.<br />
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Have a wonderful weekend. Challenge is sending me an e-mail if you want to come to my party - I'll give you the particulars. And maybe you can work on finding a creative outlet where you can let all kinds of stuff (even the dark scary stories like mine) bubble out of you. It's so much better to expose that darkness to the light in an artistic way.<br />
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Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-61877268864292630732013-02-14T08:25:00.001-08:002013-02-14T08:25:48.803-08:00Strategic Renewal/Do You Have a Chinois?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Thursday - last night was a bust! Went to the piano bar to sing and Bob Solone wasn't there - a few others, who were similarly unaware he'd taken the night off showed up and we sat at the piano and talked. One old gal, Penny, went through my massive music book, humming the tunes to herself, asking me now and again to sing her a song which I did. Then a call from Victor who was in the vicinity and he hopped over for about a half hour and we talked up a storm. I left shortly after he left to meet up with his partner.<br />
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Started the cooking and shlepping for my party. It's always an enormous undertaking. If I don't plan right I'll find myself totally depleted and unable to enjoy the event - dumb, right? To not enjoy the fruits of my own labor? Today two big soup pots simmering on the stove - making chicken soup. My Jewish friends tell me my chicken soup is the best they've had! The secret is probably because I cook the chicken backs for three days to produce a stock that is rich and complex. I'm also wise to the subtlety that secret ingredients can add - tiny quantities that fly beneath the palate radar. Into each pot, in addition to the usual suspects like ribs of celery, chunks of onion, carrots, bay leaf, salt and pepper, I also add JUST two whole cloves and two allspice berries. Learned the hard way how assertive these ingredients can be. My goal is a soup where chicken is the star with the other cast members doing their thing unnoticed behind the scenes. Next step - the soup will be filtered through a chinois to remove any grit, chilled, and the fat that congeals on top removed and saved to be used in the making of the matzo balls. Day before the party, I'll saute chopped carrots, celery and onion, add the chicken broth along with some fresh grated ginger and dill weed. I'll add back in, a few spoonfuls of the reserved chicken fat because any self-respecting chicken soup should glisten with a few beads of fat on top. And the matzo balls? Good thing I only make this soup once a year because it's the chicken fat that takes them over the top of deliciousness - I call them little pillows of heaven. I hope your mouth is watering about now. Too bad you can't smell what I'm smelling!<br />
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And speaking of being depleted, just read a fascinating article in NYT entitled <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/10/opinion/sunday/relax-youll-be-more-productive.html?pagewanted=1&ref=general&src=me" style="text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">Relax, You'll Be More Productive</a> by Tony Schwartz. You're thinking, "Yeah, sure. I've heard that advice before - power naps and all that." I know I have. Had this conversation with Liza last week when I landed this new gig and ruminated on how I was going to fit the work into my otherwise busy days. We reviewed how I spend my time. She laughed at me cuz it DID sound ridiculous! I get up naturally without an alarm which means some days I'm up at 6:30 and other days, especially if I've been out the night before, it might be almost 8:00AM when the day starts. Feed the cats. Brew a pot of coffee. Do any dishes from the day before. Write the list. Drink coffee meditationally for about 1/2 hour - staring at my elm tree. Write the blog which takes about an hour. Attend to self care: vitamins, floss, water pic, physical therapy exercises, elliptical, shower. Get and open mail. Enter receipts into Quick Books and review online banking transactions. Catch up on e-mails. Work for about an hour. Run errands like banking, groceries, dry cleaner, salon. Cook. Eat healthy meals. Talk on the phone. Work for another hour. Take a nap. Do tasks from the list. Work day done. Go out. Have fun.<br />
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Liza, on the other hand never does less than several things at the same time - schedules her tasks for maximum efficiency, barely sleeps and keeps everyone on a tight schedule. She attempted to solve my time "problem" by suggesting I write my blog while on the elliptical (dictated), forego the half hour of coffee meditation and enjoy the coffee while catching up on e-mail etc.<br />
<br />
So from the article, which you really should read for yourself, I plucked and transposed some salient points:<br />
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<br />
<ul>
<li>A new and growing body of multidisciplinary research shows that strategic renewal - including daytime workouts, short afternoon naps, longer sleep hours, more time away from the office and longer, more frequent vacations - boosts productivity, job performance and, of course, health.</li>
<li>Physicists understand energy as the capacity to do work. Like time, energy is finite; but unlike time it is renewable.</li>
<li>The importance of restoration is rooted in our physiology. Human beings aren't designed to expend energy continuously. Rather we're meant to pulse between spending and recovering energy.</li>
<li>Researchers..discovered we sleep in cycles of roughly 90 minutes, moving from light to deep sleep and back out again....they also discovered this cycle recapitulates itself during our waking lives. During the day we move from a state of alertness progressively into physiological fatigue approximately every 90 minutes. Our bodies regularly tell us to take a break, but we often override these signals and instead stoke ourselves up with caffeine, sugar and our own emergency reserves - the stress hormones adrenaline, noradrenaline and cortisol. </li>
<li>To maximize gains...individuals must avoid exhaustion and must limit practice to an amount from which they can completely recover on a daily or weekly basis.</li>
<li>Companies like Google, Coke and others are tapping into this research and have started creating a work environment where employees are required to renew themselves periodically throughout the day. </li>
<li>..The energy employees bring to their jobs is far more important in terms of the value of their work than is the number of hours they work. By managing energy more skilfully, it's possible to get more done, in less time, more sustainably ...When we're renewing, we're truly renewing, so when we're working, we can really work.</li>
</ul>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Not feeling so guilty about my half hour nap in the afternoon after reading that!!! I've known for a long time that tiny nap is key to my ability to maintain my productivity throughout the day and into the evening. People think I'm the energizer rabbit - I'm NOT! That bunny just kept going and going and going. I take time for renewal most days. Think Liza should do the same!</div>
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Peace,</div>
<div>
Sarah</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-23104743712719711622013-02-13T08:18:00.001-08:002013-02-13T08:18:25.341-08:00Outrageous Sweetness/You Will Fail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Egads....I'm busy again! The new work gig, plus the work I assumed when Mark passed away, on top of all the self care that I take very seriously. And fun (which I also take seriously!) - last night writing group - we had a dozen writers of all ilks. Some were really good and wrote compellingly. Me? I came up empty - couldn't settle into the quiet rhythm of writing. Kids were texting me like crazy and I had a lot on my mind. So, I simply enjoyed the group and played the role of appreciator. Fun to see that our constancy is paying off. James, Liza and I started this group almost two years ago - it's passed the test of time. And tonight, I'll sing at the piano bar - working on some new songs I'll preview there.<br />
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Madeleine is on my mind - my youngest daughter. Talked about her at length with a concerned friend last night and I'm percolating ideas to help her without falling into the trap I have in the past - trying to force my kind of change. She is twenty, a young woman - she needs to figure out what she stands for, what her goals are and chart her course. My role has to be that of a supporting cast member not a didactic disciplinarian.<br />
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Last night, when I spoke with my friend of her, I focused on her incredible sweetness. I reminisced about her as a toddler who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved. I remember her hugging everyone with almost ferocity as if she was afraid to let them go. She never understood rejection - it cut her to the quick - I remember still the saddest, confused look on her face when people were cruel to her (there was a lot of that in our house). I watched her grow and cope with a world that was too harsh for her sweetness, acquiring an outrageous and hard protective shell as protection. She learned to mask her hurt, learned to return sarcasm with her own brand of it, learned the world was a hard place and to survive she had to be harder and cleverer. I also witnessed her turn her rage on herself.<br />
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In describing her, I searched for a story to relate that would illustrate Madeleine's special brand of outrageous sweetness. One came to me. The back story is that Madeleine spent her senior year of high school in rehab. It was a classic intervention where she was summoned to the principal's office to find all the people assigned to her (as well as her parents) sitting there. After an explanation, she was driven to rehab - very scared and angry. She spent the next year in a girls' recovery home under tight supervision. It was a beautiful well-appointed residence that accommodated a dozen girls at a time. Girls came and went - some admitted like Madeleine by concerned parents. Others, court mandated.<br />
<br />
Staff told me how good Madeleine was with new girls. They arrived similarly pissed and scared, sometimes almost comatose balled up in a corner, unwilling to interact. Mostly they were ignored until they snapped out of it (sometimes weeks later) and decided to make the best of their situation. Madeleine was the self-appointed welcome committee. I think she hurt for the new girls, remembering acutely just how distressful it had been for her when she arrived.<br />
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Recently she and I talked about her year at Rosecrance - she told me a story designed to make me laugh (which it did). Don't think she realized that it also touched me (brought a tear). The story - when new girls came to Rosecrance and wouldn't talk, Madeleine worked hard to befriend the girl and crack the shell. She seized on something that always seemed to work with even the toughest nuts.<br />
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"Hi I'm Madeleine. I have really dark nipples. Do you want to see them?" With that she would, without invitation, lift her shirt and show the unhappy girl her rosy nipples and invariably giggles ensued. Mission accomplished. Ice broken.<br />
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Am I a weird mother to think that is the dearest, sweetest thing? The talk with my friend last night made me want to break through to her in a similar way - be there for her in the right way. I won't lift my shirt and show her my nipples or the cafe au lait scar from when I canned peaches and got a 2nd degree burn. What I will do is take another run at this good parenting thing - not give up on the girl. She is wonderful and deserves a rosy future.<br />
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All for today. Your challenge today is maybe thinking about taking another run at a problem you may have put on the shelf. I'm reminded that in AA (been told - I thankfully don't have a need for it) the participants are told they might have hundreds of lapses - that it could be the 101st time, giving up alcohol where it finally sticks. Same with Weight Watchers...if I were a leader the first thing I would tell new attendees is, "You will fail. You will fail over and over and over again. Victory is realized by people who realize failure is just part of the process." I have failed with Madeleine over and over again...have failed to touch the spots that need healing, have failed to give her the leg up she needs to make the difficult transition to adulthood (it's every parent's job to help launch). So, she flounders. We need to take another run at this - she needs to be my focus. Thinking sadly about my friends' child's death this past Christmas - an overdose. Enough dead babies.<br />
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Peace,<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-10853296703047841882013-02-12T05:49:00.000-08:002013-02-12T05:55:12.876-08:00The Pile/Little Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tuesday and tonight is my writing group which has, temporarily been moved to Tuesdays. Busy day...car to the shop to fix the bumper I messed up when I backed into the Volvo in the alley, making a birthday cake for a friend and delivering it, and digging into my new project - needing to become a call recording expert in short order!<br />
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Was it the gray day yesterday and still too much winter ahead of us that caused a malaise? Got into the car with Adrienne and she announced, "Today is the day I am officially tired of winter!" It was the sunless gray day that got to her. Yesterday,I, too, found myself dispirited and just going through the motions. "What are the sources of my anxiety?" I asked myself. Knew one of them right away. The pile. Almost a foot high that pile - each day I put on my to-do list "go through pile" and every day I shirk the task. What's curious to me is why I allowed such a pile to exist and live on in my life - it's as if I had become weirdly attached to it like a strange friend. Glimmer of understanding - the pile is maybe one of many "piles" I carry around like an old dog who can't walk. Thinking the thought even crossed my mind, "What will be left to do if you don't have the pile? What will you do with your life when everything is organized - as if I will have no raison d'etre or need for a daily list - as if life will cease without burdens and odious tasks! At this point, you're probably thinking, "Sarah overthinks everything - it's just a pile of crap for God's sake - everyone has a pile!"<br />
<br />
I decided to rid myself of the pile and then when it was vanquished, to think about virtual piles I have sitting in corners of my life: my divorce, reviewing health insurance claims, photos.....lots more. Gritting my teeth, I embraced the damned thing - put it front and center on my desk and said to it, "Today is a good day to die!" OK, I didn't say that or even think it but the whole gun thing is on my mind. What I DID do was take a blank piece of paper and write the word, "Happiness" on it with a corny smile face. I put that piece of paper at the bottom of the pile and knew the next time I'd see it was when every last piece of paper was dealt with. Took five hours and lots of scanning and reviewing, but at 5PM, the pile was no more. I actually kissed the piece of paper with the smiley face when I got to it. <br />
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New friend of mine said something I like. He said, "..it's certain small things in life that often point to really huge things if you are able to connect the dots." I would take it a step further and say, the small things are the most important things. Grand gestures, passionate orations, big plans - they're the things we talk about. Less so the little, unglamorous day-in-and-day-out observances and habits that are the sturdy or fragile fabric of our lives. Those are, I think, the things that really count.<br />
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A revelation for me, the woman who lives her life like it's performance art. The concept that, at the end of our lives, it will be the little dots that will be connected by those we leave behind as our contribution is celebrated and assessed. When Mark's friend and sister got up to talk at his service, and Chris' family spoke at his, their remembrances were of small acts of kindness, quiet intimate moments, sweet and funny and probably, at the time, seemingly insignificant anecdotes. Those were the things that mattered in the very final analysis.<br />
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So, thinking the little things are the big things. In my environment, mocking piles of disorganization that I'm perversely attached to speak to me every time I walk past them. They say, "There's more work to be done...there are difficult cobwebs yet to untangle and sweep away...there is more where I came from." And, in between the epic parties is the meat of life - the way I choose to spend each day, the people who I orbit with, the causes I celebrate, the songs I choose to sing. Little/big decisions.<br />
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Challenge today is thinking about that and maybe identifying your "piles". If you are living next to them, what are they whispering to you? What is the strange hold they exert over you? Are you, like me, afraid that, without your piles, you might be nothing? That the work will be done? That you will be done?<br />
<br />
Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-76270072609940578422013-02-11T06:22:00.000-08:002013-02-11T06:22:02.869-08:00Eclair Sex/A Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ah..Monday, the day after Sunday! Highlight of the weekend was Joan Curto's Cabaret show at Davenport's on Friday. Went with friends Carla and Allan. She sang the songs of Cole Porter - don't think I would want to be friends with anyone who didn't love the songs of Cole Porter - it would be an irreconcilable, incompatible difference - a dealbreaker! She sang, accompanied by the Chicago treasure Beckie Menzie at the piano, for an absolutely delightful hour. I'll be singing on that same stage in September. And while Joan wore dainty strappy heels, I was very aware of what big footsteps she was leaving on that stage for me and others to fill!<br />
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What WASN'T the highlight of the weekend was the weigh-in on Saturday at Weight Watchers. Despite a <u>perfect</u> effort on my part (I was determined to show a good loss), I lost the same as last week, a measly .4 pounds. And sure enough, by Saturday night I felt my resolve slipping on all fronts - tried not to let it get me down but the doubt and disappointment was already spreading under my skin and there was no balm to be had. I ended up having two unauthorized martinis along with several crackers (wheat) and an enormous chocolate-covered strawberry (sugar). By Sunday I had regained my resolve. Scary that it's all so fragile even when you've been at it for over five years! It gives me a hats-off respect for people who battle and master addiction and who get up in front of a room and say, "My name is X, and I've been sober for twenty years. Wow! I will give the weight loss another week.<br />
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Did I mention I'm having a party? You're welcome to come if I know you - just reach out to me for details. And if you know me and didn't get an invitation it's probably because I've scratched you off the invite list because you've been invited to parties in the past but never attended one (getting tired of people who won't play with me). My parties are epic by today's standards - I usually throw two a year - one in winter and the other for my birthday. My guests will be greeted with a choice of two special hot drinks - their choice of mulled cider spiked with apricot brandy and whiskey or Irish coffee topped with runny whipped cream, drizzed with creme de menthe. In the kitchen there will be five large pots of soup: chicken matzo ball, Italian wedding, split pea with ham, French onion and also a vegetarian chile. Carmen, my cleaning lady, will be working the kitchen and she will assist guests in ladling up bowls of soups with all the trimmings (the right cheese, matzo balls, croutons, crusty bread). Most years people end up sampling all five of the soups. There will also be a meat and cheese sandwich board with a honey-baked ham and a chafing dish of barbecued turkey.<br />
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In the dining room, the buffet will host all the sweets. Over the next week, I'll be starting the baking and I'll make my usual suspects: the better-than-sex chocolate cake, a lemon-pepper ginger pound-like cake, the carrot cake I perfected for Patrick, and from the Swedish bakery I plan to pick up a marzipan-covered white cake and a dozen of the most incredible chocolate eclairs I've ever tasted. The eclairs from the Swedish baker are so delicious I actually considered having a chocolate eclair party where guests ceremonially ate chocolate eclairs. Kidding of course, but they're kind of sacred. And maybe it was my state of mind when I sampled my first Swedish bakery eclair. It was the week after Thanksgiving. I had lapsed with WW because of the holiday - tried my best to take Thanksgiving in my stride but it knocked me from my perch. December loomed and I was determined not to let the slide continue, determined not to make that month a month of excess and regret. It was at that time, tenant Mark mentioned the Wheat Belly book. Fortuitous timing...instead of devouring more leftover stuffing, I devoured that book and geared myself up for wheat abstinence. First though, a detour to the Swedish bakery which was en route to Josh's house. If I was going to give up wheat forever I needed a proper good-bye. I made my choices carefully, a slice of the marzipan covered white cake, a tiny stollen and two chocolate eclairs that I would eat over the next two days. So memorable..it was a perfect send-off.<br />
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The cake was great but the eclairs? Oh my. The pastry choux was perfect, crunchy on the outside with a soft and toothsome interior. The vanilla custard filling was ice cold and infused with the best vanilla - probably Tahitian. And not sweet - barely sweetened which made all the other ingredients shine. Spread atop the eclair - a dark chocolate ganache made of fine chocolate that imparted just the right amount of sweetness in each bite - a contrast with the not-sweet pastry and filling. That eclair experience is seared into my brain - I never need to eat another one. No need - I know exactly how they taste. My pleasure will be introducing you to this experience and watching your pleasure. These days my sweets are vicarious.<br />
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All for today. Your challenge. Reach out to me if you want to come to the party.<br />
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Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
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Oh, and I didn't mention the chair masseur and the live music (Bobby Benson on piano with all my singer friends at the mic!)<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-66015623733398961652013-02-08T06:58:00.001-08:002013-02-08T07:58:13.409-08:00Gloves are Off!/Time for a Mission Statement<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Friday and a busy day - lunch with a client (the same one I blew off last week!) and a new project I picked up that I'm excited about. One of those word of mouth things where they found me - the work dropped in my lap. When the project was described to me, I all but declined it because I know next to nothing about the technology - call recording. Rather than present myself falsely I said, "I don't think I'm your gal for this project - I have no expertise in analyzing and doing vendor selection for call recording solutions." Funny that the rest of the conversation was them convincing me that I could do the work, they sold me on taking the gig. So it will be good to learn something new with no pretense. Thank God for Google - over the weekend I'll read everything I can about the different call recording vendors! And cool that, at the end of this project, I really will be a call recording expert! Reminds me of my first husband who was a litigator. Because of the cases assigned to him, he ended up being a nationally recognized expert in Firestone exploding tires, Manitowoc crane accidents and gas explosions!<br />
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This morning I've been thinking more about yesterday's topic - violence and mulling over the thought that we may bear individual responsibility (in addition to societal responsibility) for the violence we consume. Talked at length to Josh about this when he came over for dinner last night and I agreed with his concerns that we should be very mindful about trying to regulate the consumption of violence. He and I agreed that the consumption of violence is a very tricky thing. Here are some of my thoughts:<br />
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<br />
<ul>
<li>to deny our love affair with violence would be to deny basic human nature. Violence is woven tightly into our lives and it's nothing new. Think Roman forums - crowds feasting on images of Christians being eaten by lions. Some of the best movies (I'm thinking, for instance, about the Lord of the Ring series) are rife with violence. Great art often contains violent images. Good men are called to violence to protect their own - it's in their DNA to use force when needed. Don't think I would want to be with a man who couldn't protect me.</li>
<li>technology has made the consumption of violence so much more prevalent. Compare and contrast the viewing habits between modern humans versus people of yesterday. It's almost exponential! There used to be constraints on what was acceptable to present to the viewing public. Now the gloves are off - almost nothing is sacred and the images are coming fast and furiously with few controls.</li>
<li>It's one thing for adults to negotiate their way in an increasingly violent world but something very different for children who are being fed a steady diet of violence. Doesn't it make sense to be concerned about everything your child is consuming whether it's high fructose corn syrup, hours of screen time, junk food, or...violence?</li>
<li>Thinking the answer lies somewhere between personal responsibility and a careful use of government controls. When I Fandango'd the movies playing at my local theater yesterday, I expected to see some kind of rating for violence that would be useful for parents and people not wanting to take in a violent flick. The ratings told me almost nothing and there was absolutely no mention of violence. Seems PG-13 and R have more to do with sexual content than violent content. Even the kids movie, Wreck It Ralph described scenes with violence but the reviewer said it was appropriate for kids! So, some kind of credible rating system that addresses specifically the violent content in all media would be a good start, right? I can also see the government playing a role in regulating violent imagery in advertising (as they should also be doing with substances like alcohol and tobacco). The feds could put its muscle behind educating the public about gratuitous violence and encourage public debate about violence in our culture. There is a lot to discuss, including how we've institutionalized violence. Once we start getting introspective about this topic, the discussion has to also include the U.S.'s use of violence in the world (walk softly but carry a big stick - quote from Teddy Roosevelt) </li>
<li>Then it comes down to individuals being careful consumers of violence - that's where the personal responsibility comes into play. It's not realistic to think we can cut violence out of our consciousness' - we are a violent species. What we can do is turn the volume down - admit our consumption is out of whack, not healthy and then seek solutions for violence abatement and moderation</li>
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And that's how I see it....challenge today is creating your own mission statement about your own consumption of and relationship to violence. Where do you stand on this issue?</div>
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Peace,</div>
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Sarah</div>
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-68229144222702836392013-02-07T09:11:00.001-08:002013-02-07T09:18:31.742-08:00Hypocrisy/Step off the Grid<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thursday - my how the weeks fly! Piano bar was fun last night - I sang often and well. Friends Kenneth and Lisa joined me. He is a terrific singer in the style of Nat King Cole - very smooth and classy with a fabulous sense of timing. And handsome too! When James and I saw him in concert once, James said, with admiration, "I'd go gay for him!" Last night he sang a couple of chestnuts: Lush Life and Angel Eyes. I sang Walk on By, Skylark, Them There Eyes, and La Vie en Rose.</div>
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Today I'm shaking my head over a video Carol sent me that I'm really hoping you take the time to watch on YouTube.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hj50xDUYFfc" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=hj50xDUYFfc</a><br />
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Her sending this comes on the heels of my seeing, with friends, the Osama Bin Laden capture movie, <u>Zero Dark Thirty.</u> And I realize the trailers at the beginning are chosen in keeping with the theme of the featured film - if you go to see, for example, the new movie Quartet, I doubt the previews will be violence layered with more violence. And yet....something is so wrong when there is even the option of choosing so many movies where violence is the featured star. Just went to Fandango to see what's playing in my local Evanston theater. Check this out! Out of twenty movies playing, 13 of them are violent, even the ones targeted to kids! And that doesn't include Lincoln which I'm sure must have some gory Civil War scenes (haven't seen it yet)!<br />
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Identity Thief </div>
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<span style="color: #c00000;">Side Effects – (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #c00000;">Bullet</span> to <span style="color: #c00000;">the Head -
(violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #c00000;">Stand Up Guys – (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #c00000;">Warm Bodies X – (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #c00000;">Hansel and Gretel: Witch
Hunters (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Movie 43</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #c00000;">Parker (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #c00000;">Mama - PG13 – (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #c00000;">Gangster Squad (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Quartet – PG13</div>
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<span style="color: #c00000;">Zero Dark Thirty (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Les Miserables </div>
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Amour</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #c00000;">The Hobbit (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Life of Pi</div>
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Silvers Linings Playbook</div>
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Lincoln</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #c00000;">Wreck-It Ralph (violent)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #c00000;">Argo (violent)</span></div>
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Hypocrisy abounds, not just among the Hollywood actors and actresses you will see on the video, but also within us - we are the the target, plunk-the-money down, consumers of violence. Case in point, my friend with whom I attended the Osama movie. After a preview of a new Die Hard movie, she turned to me and whispered, "I've always loved Die Hard movies!" She then went on to bemoan the rest of the violent previews as disturbing and alarming - her words, "This country is in trouble." Hmmmm......<br />
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Our dualistic nature...seems we are not always "sweet little bunnies" (still laughing that Martin called me that when I see myself more as Tank Girl). Seems, if we're honest, we should admit we've got an inborn thirst for violence and gore. It's not just the fringe of us who want to see someone mowed down with bullets once in a while in the name of good shoot 'em up entertainment. I personally loved the movie Matrix and really, you don't get much more violent than that!<br />
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So what do we do???? Thinking we shouldn't lie to ourselves and each other and maintain that the thirst for violence doesn't compel even he best of us from time to time. We're wired for it. Seeing a good guy kick butt and exact revenge, thrilling to see evil obliterated, right? Heady stuff! Thinking we need to admit to and own up to our often violent-loving dualistic nature and then figure out how we can live with it and manage it.<br />
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How about a two-pronged approach where we address the issue of violence both from a societal perspective as well as a personal one? I've newly decided my portal (brain) is off limits to gun violence and violence in general. I know there is a section of my brain that enjoys being lit up by things like a good James Bond movie or worse - it's pleasurable But there is also a zone in my brain that would enjoy being lit up by heroin and I would never think of indulging that! So, no violence for Sarah, no violent books, no shoot 'em up movies, no violent news clips, no violent video games (not sure about Mrs. Pacman - is it violent when she eats her adversaries?). Just think, if other individuals made this same commitment, to be anti-consumers of violence, all that crap would dry up! No demand! No product!<br />
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I believe we also have responsibilities as a society to examine our group hypocrisies. We are appalled when one of us goes on a violent rampage and yet we vote for candidates who help to perpetuate violence (war wagers, supporters of the NRA, etc). We don't protect our children from violent images and lyrics. We glorify force and belittle the efforts of pacifists.<br />
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Challenge today is to join me in giving up violence. What might that look like for you? Making your home a violence-free zone? Giving voice (probably unpopularly) to the new thought that, "We don't let violence into our home in any form: movies, books, magazines, games, song lyrics." As for the movies we take ourselves to and the ones we allow our kids to see? Due diligence to make sure they're films without violence and explaining unapologetically to our friends and kids, "I/we don't do violence. We need to see something else." Good luck though! Non-violent films are slim pickings!<br />
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Are we fucked up on this topic or what??????? Thinking we really need to work hard to nurture our better natures and work to make violence taboo - both personally and societally! Not easy though when the world is full of bullies (or are we the bullies?) - is there such a thing as a good war? Thinking about Hitler.<br />
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Peace,<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-83978443194935315502013-02-06T09:06:00.001-08:002013-02-06T09:18:29.405-08:00'Twas Good/Pantry Purge?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wednesday...chilly in Chicago.. quintessential! Woke up happy...and actually audibly whispered to myself, "I'm glad to be alive." Maybe it was seeing the sun return to the early morning sky and the sun that poked its head out today. And then, the mental exercise, "What was good about yesterday?" So much..got a lot done, enjoyed seeing Jo-Jo and his new purple collar that Elizabeth worries might make him look like a girl, ate great, time with friend James in the evening - haven't seen much of him lately, he's been working a lot, and then very late tea with tenant Mark. All that and a good book on a frosty evening. 'Twas good. Tonight piano bar with Adrienne. I won't sulk if I'm not called up to sing as often as some of the old timers.</div>
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I've been getting questions and inquiries about what I eat now that I've given up most dairy, sugar and wheat. What DOES that leave? Friend Sue is on board with the no wheat thing, having read <u>Wheat Belly</u> at my suggestion. And really, once you read that book, there's really no turning back. Tenant Mark turned me on to the book. I ordered it and read it over the course of a few days. When we visited next, he asked me, "So, are you going to do it? Give up wheat? I was surprised at the question because was there really much of a choice? Once you're presented with the evidence, there is only one course of action. Back to Sue. Now that she embraces the science, she wonders, "What do I feed myself and my family? Other people find it incredulous that I don't eat cheese, sugar, wheat or most wheat substitutes (common mistake is substituting wheat with other high glycemic substances like potato, rice, tapioca flour - the idea is to stabilize your blood sugar and be healthier).<br />
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So, here is a glimpse of what I typically eat these days with some practical suggestions sprinkled in. Keep in mind, I'm also eating for weight loss so if you're not trying to reduce, you would eat a lot more!<br />
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<u>Breakfast </u><br />
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<ul>
<li>Gluten-free steel cut oats - 1/2 c. with berries or other fruit and coconut creamer and a cup of coffee Tips:</li>
<ul>
<li>Get the oats at Whole Foods or Trader Joe's - Bob's Red Mill. These are not the quick cooking or rolled oats and they do specify gluten-free which means there is no wheat contamination in them. Bring 3 c. of salted water to a boil and whisk in 1 c. of the oats. Bring back to the boil and then turn down to lowest setting and cook for about 1/2 hour stirring frequently until desired thickness. This will make several servings, making the rest of the week easier - the leftover oats warms easily in the microwave. </li>
<li>Enjoy a mix of fruit like raspberries, strawberries, blackberries, fresh pineapple, ripe pear, pomegranate seeds. Put a combo of fruit on the oats (fresh fruit is something you should absolutely splurge on and not penny-pinch). I use coconut coffee lightener (creamer) - a brand called "So Delicious" found in the refrigerator section of Whole Foods. Warm about 1/4 c. and pour on top of the oats and fruit.</li>
</ul>
<li>2% Fage Greek Yogurt - 1/2 c. with same types of fruit listed above and 1/2 TBS of honey (the only sweetener I allow myself and in tiny quantities). Greek yogurt and on special occasions a bit of goat cheese is the only dairy I eat these days (no butter, cow-milk cheese, sour cream, milk, cream)</li>
<li>Veggie Scramble - Finely dice vegetables like carrots, onion, red and green peppers, even asparagus and sauteed until soft and lightly brown in a skillet sprayed with Coconut Spray (Whole Foods - a more healthy alternative to Pam). Add lightly whisked eggs, S&P and a tsp of olive oil and cook until scrambled. </li>
</ul>
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<u>Lunch</u></div>
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<u><br /></u></div>
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<ul>
<li>Salad - I don't have to tell you how to make a salad, right?</li>
<li>Wrap - I'm loving Rudi's Spinach tortillas that I find at Whole Foods. They're large, nice and soft (especially if you wrap them in a slightly damp paper towel and microwave for 20 seconds). The grains in Rudy's tortillas are healthful: sorghum, amaranth, quinoa, etc. I fill the wrap with whatever I have handy: chicken salad that I make from rotisserie chicken (dice chicken, add halved grapes and finely chopped celery - season with garlic powder, cinnamon, Jane's salt and coarse pepper. Add a dash of lemon juice and Miracle Whip Light to moisten); organic turkey from the deli, avocado, large butter lettuce leaves, leftover sauteed vegetables, mango salsa (Whole Foods), tunafish, etc. Sometimes I'll cook a veggie burger and slice it into fingers and use those in the wrap, adding almond cheese (it's really good!), etc.</li>
<li>Soup - this time of year there should always be a pot of soup simmering on your stove!</li>
<li>Cherry tomatoes on the side - Cherry tomatoes are my new potato chip!</li>
<li>Amy's frozen meal like the Tamale with Roasted Vegetables and a side of black beans (dairy free, gluten free)</li>
</ul>
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<u>Dinner</u><br />
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<u><br /></u></div>
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<ul>
<li>Eating out is tricky. I tend to find one thing that works for me at each of the venues I haunt. If it's Maggiano's they have a salmon salad on a bed of mixed greens. I ask for dressing on the side and use it judiciously. I remove the little crunchy wheat things from the top and I send back the bread basket when it comes. That, and a glass of wine or Pellegrino is, on most days, satisfying. I remind myself that I can always eat something when I get home if I'm still hungry. At the Asian place, I'll order lettuce wraps, at Schaller's I order nothing because it's all unhealthy (I eat first).</li>
<li>Dinner at home might be an AmyLu's chicken sausage (Whole Foods) browned and served alongside some roasted and pureed butternut squash and 1/2 c. of brown or wild rice. (To make heavenly squash, get a large Butternut, cut it lengthwise and remove the seeds. Put the two halves in a roasting pan and brush with 1 TBS of olive oil. Sprinkle liberally with Jane's Salt, coarse pepper, garlic powder and nutmeg. Cook at 375 for the better part of an hour until it is slightly over-roasted. When cool enough to work with, scoop the flesh and puree in the food processor, adjusting the seasonings as needed. If the squash lacks sweetness you can add a bit of maple syrup or honey (not much!). And don't be afraid of making rice - it's easy. Use a size appropriate pan and bring to a boil, 2 c. water, 1 tsp salt and 1 c. brown rice. Reduce heat to very very low, stir and cover and then don't fuss with it. When you think it might be done, part the kernels to check for unabsorbed liquid - cook more if necessary. When the liquid is fully absorbed, fluff the rise with a fork, turn heat off, cover and let it sit for 5-10 minutes. Make a batch of rice and eat on it the entire week!</li>
<li>Mustard Tarragon Chicken Breasts (you'll love this recipe that you can prep in less than five minutes!) Put several boneless chicken breasts on a plastic cutting board (creeps me out to use wood - I worry that the chicken bacteria will take up permanent residence in the wood grain), cover with plastic wrap and pound them until they are twice their original size. In a baking dish put some olive oil and then dredge the breasts in the oil (that means flip them around to coat them in the oil - both sides). Dollop a heaping tsp of good mustard (Grey Poupon or the Pommery I just wrote about is best) and spread with the back of the spoon being careful not to return the chicken spoon back into the mustard container!. Sprinkle with dried tarragon that you crush between your fingers, Jane's salt and coarse pepper. Put in a preheated 400 oven for about 15 minutes, checking frequently. The key to this recipe is not overcooking the chicken - cook ONLY until it is no longer mushy when pressed with your finger! Serve with rice and a vegetable, etc.</li>
</ul>
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Was this at all helpful? Did you get good ideas? It's one thing to get clarity on what you should and should not be eating but harder to put a new way of eating into practice! In addition to the above, I snack on fruits and vegetables: a sliced apple sprinkled with Saigon cinnamon at 4PM most days, clementines when I feel like grazing, a banana or pear whenever, and if I have the points I might even indulge in 1 oz of tortilla chips and some mango salsa. Almonds are also a go-to snack (carefully apportioned) and those little massageable packets of almond butter are fun when squeezed on apple slices! I drink only coffee, tea and water when at home.</div>
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Challenge today. If you're of a mind to change how you eat, how about doing a purge of your kitchen cabinets, getting rid of anything that doesn't support your new initiative and then stocking up with the foods that DO support health!</div>
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Peace,</div>
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Sarah</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-11022847827053792032013-02-05T08:51:00.001-08:002013-02-05T09:04:14.098-08:00Josh's Perfect Week/Itemize the Elements<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tuesday and a really pokey start to the day - it's after 10 and I'm only now settling down to my computer. Last night at Petterino's was jam-packed and full of fabulous singers. The entire cast of the new I Love Lucy show that just opened was there and they each sang a tune for us. Then the fabulous Nan Mason who once owned the town as a top-billed Cabaret performer was there, looking and sounding fabulous. There were a bunch of sweet young things - teens who were in Chicago auditioning for various music schools - this is the week where all the major music schools hold auditions in Chicago. My voice coach, Mark Burnell, is always hired by Carnegie Mellon and he accompanies probably 100 actress/actor wannabees over the course of the week. A few of them got wind of Cabaret night at Petterino's and showed up.<br />
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Jerry accompanied me. I had met him earlier at a building on Ontario to give him my opinion on a loft he is considering buying - he wanted my input. Beautiful space - large for a single guy - something like 2600 sq. ft. but really great for entertaining - now he just has to make a hundred new friends so that he can use the space properly (he's a recent transplant from New Jersey). So we kicked the tires so to speak - turning on burners, filling the gigantic jacuzzi tub, listened to see if the noise from the Ontario on-ramp was off-putting, tried out the modern furniture that is also for sale. He liked it - think he's going to make an offer today. Afterwards I ended up inviting him to join me at Petterino's - he enjoyed himself immensely and was crazy about my friends (and my singing in French!).<br />
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Tonight, quiet night at home and that's OK - it's scripted - "Tuesday - Quiet Night At Home". Are you laughing at me that I actually script the week? It's something I'm doing more and more and while it may seem un-spontaneous it seems to be the only way I can ensure I'm getting life balance. I'm a fan of architecting one's week.<br />
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So much so that, when Josh came over last Thursday and admitted he was struggling, we got out a piece of paper and entitled it "Josh's Perfect Week." The thought behind this is that, of course, not every week (maybe not any week) is going to be perfect but with forethought he can have a truly gratifying week/life that includes all the elements required for happiness. I interviewed him - asked him questions like:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Where does your family fit into your perfect week - do you need face time with them or just a few good phone calls?</li>
<li>What about friends? Who and how often?</li>
<li>Talk to me about food - what are your food goals? Do you need a refrigerator stocked with healthy food or would that make your nervous (things going bad)? </li>
<li>Romance - does your perfect week include having a date?</li>
<li>Infrastructure - how important is it to you that your environment be neat, laundry done, car cleaned, bills paid - how often do you need to attend to this kind of stuff and what day of the week could be earmarked for infrastructure?</li>
<li>Creativity - what are you doing to exercise your creative muscle. (Turns out Josh's creativity is expressed on the computer which is fine and dandy but there's the whole "too much screen face time" thing going on. I'm thinking of buying him a few glass-blowing lessons.</li>
<li>Spending - retail therapy. Is this something that factors into your perfect week?</li>
<li>Time with work peers. Josh has taken to working from home most days and his work relationships are weakening. He identified he needs more face time with the people on his team, even if it seems a non-productive use of his time.</li>
<li>Josh's perfect week would include some time with animals even though his beloved dog is staying in the country with his sister and mom. Time for a new pet? Or maybe the need could be satisfied by volunteering at the animal shelter. (Note to self: get the name of the shelter daughter Catherine volunteers at).</li>
<li>Exercise - what kind and how often?</li>
<li>Reading time. Important</li>
<li>Sleep - seven hours. In bed by midnight - waking naturally without an alarm (Josh has the luxury of making his own work hours for the most part).</li>
<li>Group activities - intellectual stimulation - something he identified as being an important element in a perfect week. Thinking he will find something on meetup.com or start his own group.</li>
<li>Limiting:</li>
<ul>
<li>alcohol</li>
<li>isolation</li>
<li>screen time</li>
</ul>
</ul>
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Next, we listed out the days of the week and sketched in what each day should look like, i.e. Sunday, errands and infrastructure, Monday - working from home and then meetup in the evening, Tuesday and Wednesday - go into the office and then quiet nights at home, Thursday - work at home and then hang with a friend in the evening, Friday or Saturday - date and the other night an adventure designed to get Josh out of his comfort zone. Etc.</div>
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So much fun to help other people solve problems! So much more fun than solving your own, right? Challenge today could be making that same list - itemizing the elements that should be included in your own perfect week that includes the right balance and elements that will make you feel invigorated, healthy, responsible, loved, creative, mentally challenged and connected.</div>
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Peace,</div>
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Sarah</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-7608068755127282252013-02-04T06:43:00.002-08:002013-02-04T08:46:17.477-08:00Sunshine Patriots/6.4 ounces?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Monday and up and at 'em. Got a head full of steam with a bunch I want to accomplish today and this week. One thing - I'm wearing my pedometer again and it's a goal that at least one day this week, I'll hit the 10,000 step mark again. The knee isn't perfect but, thanks to giving up wheat, the inflammation is gone. Now I need to reclaim the gains I made before it blew out on me. </div>
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Friday was terrible. Went to the piano bar early to secure a seat at the piano (they get snatched up). I'd already had a stupid day - forgot to check my calendar and accidentally blew off a lunch meeting with a client who called me from the restaurant we were supposed to meet!!! And the day before backed into a Volvo that was parked in the alley so I had to deal with that and chase down the owner so we could exchange insurance info. Things got worse...Bob did his "ignore Sarah" thing - I only sang a few songs in the first set and then he put me in singer limbo. It wasn't a federal holiday so I just sipped Pellegrino and ate a dry salmon salad while everyone around me sopped up olive oil with fabulous crusty Italian bread and ordered over-sized bowls of every kind of pasta imaginable. And, as the evening progressed, the chasm grew between me and the people I was rubbing shoulders with. When you're not drinking and everyone around you is pounding down drink after drink, soon communication becomes impossible - you're just not seeing things with the same lens. From my sober vantage point, everyone disgusted me. Finally I just threw in the towel. If I wasn't going to sing, drink, overeat - had no one sober to talk with, better that I just leave which is what I did. Slipped away and no one even noticed. Felt very invisible (and sad). Saturday had plans with Josh which he blew off cuz he snagged an Internet date at the last minute, so I was again - shudder - home alone Saturday night, playing too much Scrabble with my newly made, random-opponent friends on my IPad. Sunday was better: breakfast with Lucas (Liza), a movie and dinner with friends Carla and Allan.<br />
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A thought has been inhabitating my brain over the weekend ever since I weighed in on Saturday morning at Weight Watchers and only lost .4 pounds. So hard! I worked at the weight loss all week long, tracking every single thing I ate, making wise choices, weighing and measuring everything, didn't screw up once. To lose only .4 pounds which is a mere 6.4 ounces, when you've worked your ass off and have over fifty pounds you're trying to take off, is absolutely demoralizing and demotivating. Been here before - maybe you remember. I've tried, in the past, not to get discouraged when the weight refuses to come off despite my compliant efforts. I've even tried the tactic of celebrating .4 pounds as being wonderful, something to crow about. Carla tried to help me spin it. "Sarah, that's almost two sticks of butter!" "Carla, it's a 6.4 ounce result for a ton (2,000 pounds) of effort! - it sucks!"<br />
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So the thought. What separates the mice from the men? How do other people get through stuff like this when they have a problem that refuses to yield despite their best efforts? How do they keep from becoming discouraged? And what do they do to affect a different outcome when faced with the same problem over and over again? Thinking of my spiritual father, Abraham Lincoln and how frustrated he must have been. He was doing everything right - focus, commitment, greater numbers of troops, more firepower and yet he was still getting trounced. The South was bolder and Lincoln's generals overcautious. He replaced his celebrated general and still he lost. So he replaced that celebrated general and still he lost. He ended up replacing five generals, losing political ground and support for the war, until he ended up with Grant who won the war for him.<br />
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Also thinking of Burt Bacharach. In preparation for my show, I've been listening, over and over again (mostly in the car) to every song that was ever recorded (he wrote hundreds of tunes). I'm trying to get a real sense of who he was as a composer - studying him from every angle. What I'm struck by is how many awful songs there are. He worked really hard for the hits he had! It wasn't magic! For each tune that hit the charts - the songs that now seem effortlessly birthed, there were a bunch of stillborns in between. Thinking the guy just showed up every day, applied the effort, looked for inspiration where he could find it, stumbled off the path once in a while but found his way back and just kept the forward momentum. And now? What a body of work! Didn't come easy though.<br />
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And I remember a recurring theme in my therapy with Kaveh, working the same issue over and over and over again until there was a breakthrough. This is how it went. Kaveh would touch a wound (deliberately). I would become incensed and hurt. There would be a blowout between us where I would invariably write him a caustic, insulting e-mail (things like, "You need to reconsider your choice of career", or "Didn't you learn anything in Psych 101 - you are a terrible therapist!") I would fire him and ask for a final bill. He would call me and ask for an exit session. I would ignore him. He would call again. I would begrudgingly agree to a final discussion. He would explain and I would listen. I would cry. We resumed the work. This same scenario played itself out at least a dozen times, always the same, like Groundhog Day. Finally (duh!) I recognized the futile pattern and when the same hurt flared within me, instead of following an old script, I said, "This is where I get upset and fire you and then we talk it through and make up, right? Maybe we should just fast forward to the talking part and get through this faster."<br />
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So, this is where I give up the weight loss battle. Been here so many times. A new effort. A great loss (four weeks ago was down 3.8 pounds), The following week, down 1 pound, the next week, down .8 and then Saturday, down .4 - each week a diminishing return despite the exact same effort. This is where I give up, get mad, say "Fuck it, if I'm not going to lose, I might as well enjoy myself," and hit the bread basket. Thinking I need to take a page from therapy and recognize the script....need to find the fast forward button and try something different this time. I'll stay the course for another week and let's see what happens next Saturday. I will channel the indefatigable efforts of Abe and Burt this week.<br />
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Eugene, if you're reading this blog, please appreciate just how hard losing weight is!!!! It's not for the faint of heart - not for summer soldiers and sunshine patriots (in keeping with my war analogy)!<br />
<br />
Peace,<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-44315824177100149902013-02-01T07:29:00.001-08:002013-02-01T07:46:00.665-08:00Brill Building/Too Harsh<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Friday's here and if you're here in Chicago you woke up to a very cold day. It's February 1st and the temperature outside at this very moment is 1 degree! After writing this blog I need to send out my monthly "rabbit rabbit" greetings to the people I text with. It's a fun (maybe strange) British tradition to give "rabbit rabbit" greetings to those you care about on the first day of every month - is supposed to bring the recipient of the greeting good luck for the entire month.<br />
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Tonight I'll hang at the piano bar solo which is fine 'cuz I now know everyone there - it's a little family of singers and singing appreciators. So what if I'm the youngest one there (average age is probably about 70!) And what's wrong that younger people don't love live music and The American Songbook? I don't get it! Know it's just my opinion, but the music written in the '40's and '50's is so much better than the pap written today (with some exceptions) - better lyrics, catchier tunes, more sophisticated arrangements. Only thing that might come close after that is the music of Burt Bacharach and also the Brill Building songwriters in the '60s and '70's. Check out a list of the musicians who worked their craft there. Amazing, right? That would be one of my destinations if I could hitch a time-travel ride in the Tardis with Dr. Who.<br />
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<img alt="Featured Inductee" height="41" src="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/img/header_genre_brill-building.gif" style="background-color: #ffffeb; border: none; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" width="174" /></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C146" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Anka, Paul</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C146" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Bacharach, Burt</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C128" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Barry, Jeff</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C128" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Brooks, Garth</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C153" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Clapton, Eric</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C153" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Cohen, Leonard</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C119" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Croce, Jim</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C119" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Crosby , David </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C154" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Darin, Bobby</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C154" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">David, Hal</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C155" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Denver, John</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C155" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Diamond, Neil</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C289" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Dylan, Bob</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C289" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Goffin, Gerry</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C132" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Greenfield, Howard</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C132" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Greenwich, Ellie</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C164" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Joel, Billy</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C164" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">King, Carole</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C296" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Kristofferson, Kris</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C296" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Lennon, John</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C6054" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Lightfoot, Gordon </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C6054" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Mann, Barry</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C171" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Mitchell, Joni</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C171" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Nash , Graham </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C144" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Pomus, Jerome "Doc"</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C144" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Sedaka, Neil</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C145" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Shuman, Mort</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C145" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Simon, Carly</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C149" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Simon, Paul</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C149" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Stills, Stephen </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C182" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Taylor, James</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/exhibits/C182" style="color: #7f5785; list-style-type: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: initial;">Weil, Cynthia</a></div>
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This morning, during coffee mediation time, the words "too harsh" kept creeping into my consciousness. On the heels of "too harsh" came "too bossy". Thinking I need to listen to that censuring voice and put myself in a virtual time out. These days, I risk being a smarty-pants. Feeling like I'm emerging victoriously from a really difficult period in my life that included a bunch of hard stuff: setback with the knees, downsizing my business and the closing of the physical office space, financial challenges, sometimes crippling heartbreak, family worry, disorganization, empty-next syndrome and loneliness, and more. I've taken on each of those challenges with mostly good result and the future is looking rosy again. But...I gotta be careful not to become over-satisfied and smug and think I've got the one and only formula for success and happiness. How obnoxious is that? How obnoxious am I some days!!!???<br />
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Do you remember Nigel - I wrote about him a while back. He found me on OK Cupid, the Internet dating site. His writing is amazing, clever and erudite. He was also smitten with me and the compliments about my beauty and intelligence flowed - hard not to like someone who fawns over you! Then the revelation that he is married and pursuing liaisons behind his wife's back. Yuck, right? The other day I was playing around with my phone and opened a factory installed app called "Talk". there were two people listed as being available for communication (not sure how they got there - maybe it's because they too have the app on their phone?) Nigel was one of them - showed he was "available" so I clicked on him and voila, there he was on my phone - it was a video chat. We got a chance to see each other which only made him more amorous. Then incessant communication from him - e-mails after e-mail, sometimes only a few minutes apart that I didn't even have a chance to respond to! And they kept getting racier and racier with double entendres like references to my "puss" (supposedly referring to my cat), references to how someone so NOT frigid could freeze up on the video screen (the app is imperfect), and then something about lust. I blasted him, or as Josh says, I castrated him. Here is what I wrote:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Nigel, as the British are fond of saying, "Down boy!" I'm not enjoying the sexual innuendos (pussy, lust, frigid, etc). It is stupid to "go there" with me - it is, to use your frozen analogy, a frozen life not lived - trying to make futile connections with a woman who is geographically unfavorable who has no intention of getting involved with a married man, and for whom the fact that you are cheating on the wife (trolling the Internet and engaging strange women for sexual innuendo and more IS cheating!) is a turn-off.</span><br />
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And here's the paradox. I actually find you attractive in a lot of ways. You are physically pleasing (great smile), you are really smart and well-spoken which is also appealing. And I'm sure if I knew you there would be more to like about you. And yet.....the whole infidelity thing is a deal breaker. It all but negates that which is attractive. As I've said before, any women worth having would want nothing to do with a man who sneaks around behind his wife's back. We're not stupid. That whole, "once a cheater, always a cheater" rings in one's ears. The irony is that, at this point, if you were to clean up your act - "man up" and fix what's amiss in your life, be honorable and honest, extricate yourself from a marriage that doesn't make you happy, I would still not go out with you - would always be suspect.</div>
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So where does that leave "us"? Friends, just. Maybe I can be your muse to make some positive changes. Maybe you can get yourself to a place where you really would be worthy of the kind of woman you want.</div>
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I know this is harsh, but I am impatient with you and not amused by your shenanigans. I'm not sure why I even video chatted you the other day. I was messing around with the app and there were two people in the list of users - you and my friend Norma. I chatted both of you to test out the technology and then we got a chance to see a different view of each other and I'm afraid things got stirred up a bit on your end.</div>
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I know your're unhappy. The job thing is distressing. You're stuck in some pathologies. You long for something more. I get it. </div>
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Sit down and write a mission statement for your life. Read or re-read the Seven Habits of Highly Successful People by Steven Covey. </div>
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Grow up and inhabit your skin fully! Be a powerful and honorable man, finally. It's not too late.</div>
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Think I sent him into the night with his tail between his legs. And who would want to be my friend after a message like that! <br />
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I was similarly hard on dear, sweet Victor last week. I don't write about him here in this blog at his request so I won't go into any details. Suffice to say, he was having difficulties with someone and I felt he was partly to blame and couldn't see his contribution to the problem. In an effort to be helpful, I not-so-gently pointed out his failings. He was furious and rightly so. Amazing that he was able to forgive me. We talked last night. My intentions were good - my execution, awful.<br />
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Challenge today. Maybe thinking about friendship and how one can be useful to friends without being officious and overbearing. I'm thinking most of you (except Eugene!) are delicate with your friends. And yet there ARE times when we can take risks and be useful during tough times by challenging our friends to look at things a different way. I love my friends. I'm not always the best friend. Too harsh sometimes.<br />
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One of my earliest memories - I was four and, like Spanky, the leader of my neighborhood gang. We tumbled out of our houses in the morning, only returning for lunch and dinner. Can't remember how we spent our days - think we made the rounds of all the old ladies, visiting with them in their parlors, cookies and lemonade. I remember the highlight of the morning was when the milkman came. We clamored around the milk truck and every day, he gave us each a chunk of ice that we licked till it was small enough to crunch. And most of my gang were older than me - I was a very young dictator! One day they revolted against my bossiness. I was exiled! Crying I went to my mother and told her. She listened, told me not to be so bossy and sent me back outside with a plate of cookies. I was reinstated on my throne, a humbled and more benevolent queen! Thanks Mom for that!<br />
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Peace,<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-4958058180334241392013-01-31T08:24:00.000-08:002013-01-31T12:50:21.292-08:00Blind Date/Delusional?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfw-79JIgF_6hRBcqy0houExkUIMSTDvz4oB0LmgW4bFQjXKm8TaGmzjervwA3ZP3ztp84GV5WGy50UYntyDdI63G6Aq19vQJ6e9kIFApBxUoBI-S5tFWODJNrz9r607TvvGUe-dDQrQ/s1600/blowupdoll%5B1%5D-thumb-250x268-19681.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfw-79JIgF_6hRBcqy0houExkUIMSTDvz4oB0LmgW4bFQjXKm8TaGmzjervwA3ZP3ztp84GV5WGy50UYntyDdI63G6Aq19vQJ6e9kIFApBxUoBI-S5tFWODJNrz9r607TvvGUe-dDQrQ/s1600/blowupdoll%5B1%5D-thumb-250x268-19681.png" /></a></div>
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Thursday and time to plan the weekend. If you're a singleton like me, weekends can sneak up on you in a very lonely way! Today, taking Una (klatching neighbor) to my favorite health food restaurant for a birthday lunch. Josh over tonight for dinner and talk. Tomorrow probably piano bar and Saturday, oh dear, no plans for Saturday AGAIN! Will remedy that today. Sunday, Super Bowl party at Saleem's.<br />
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Last night's date was pleasant. Jerry met me at the piano bar which was my home turf advantage. We had a good time and he loved the music and the professionalism of the singers of which I was one. Very handsome, that one, but with physical issues from a motorcycle accident when he was 40. Hardest thing for him is that he lost his vision in his left eye and only has about 10% vision in the right. What I like is that it doesn't seem to slow him down (doubt that anyone last night realized he's legally blind) and he doesn't conduct himself like a victim - no pity party. It was a nice time.<br />
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Today, the word delusion is on my mind. I'm worried I might be delusional. Getting some feedback that I might be. I also saw an amazing movie on my IPad called, <u>Lars and the Real Girl.</u> It should have been strange but it was touching and dear. A very damaged and lonely man whose mother died in childbirth, was raised by his heart-broken and emotionally disturbed father and now finds himself longing for connection but unable to bear the touch of another human being. He orders a life size doll (anatomically correct). Names her Bianca. Everyone in the little town he lives in embraces Bianca and plays along that she is really real. Bianca is a blessing. Though inanimate, she heals Lars, cleaves him to the people who love him and who reach out to him with tenderness. When he no longer needs her, he announces her illness (and subsequent death). By then he has made real human connections.<br />
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He was delusional - absolutely thought Bianca was real - fussed over her every need and grieved for her when she died. I think Liza and others think I'm delusional when it comes to Patrick. I haven't spoken with him since last May. He has only communicated with me a handful of times since then - most recently a sweet Christmas greeting. He doesn't respond to my communication. I'm not his Facebook friend and he has all but ceased posting anything to his publicly view-able pages so I'm in the dark as to what he is up to these days. These are the facts and I am not delusional about the facts - I can look at them dispassionately and assess the situation exactly as Liza does. The relationship is over....we don't even have a friendship...he doesn't want me in his life in any capacity. He no longer loves me, even a little bit.<br />
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So where does the delusion come in? I swear the body doesn't have just one brain. Actually a side bar to this discussion is a fascinating article I read in New Scientist entitled, <u><a href="http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg21628951.900-gut-instincts-the-secrets-of-your-second-brain.html" target="_blank">Gut Instinct - Alimentary Thinking</a></u>. Seems our gut has its own information processing capabilities completely separate from the brain!<br />
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..the real culprit may not be the brain in your skull but your other brain. Yes that's right, your other brain. Your body contains a separate nervous system that is so complex it has been dubbed the second brain. It comprises an estimated 500 million neurons - about five times as many as in the brain of a rat - and is around 9 meters long, stretching from your esophagus to your anus. It is this brain that could be responsible for your craving under stress for crisps, chocolate and cookies...it can work both independently of, and in conjunction with, the brain in your head and although you are not conscious of your gut "thinking, the ENS (enteric nervous system) helps you sense environmental threats, and then influences your response. "A lot of the information that the gut send to the brain affects well-being, and doesn't even come to consciousness," says Michael Gershon at Columbia -Presbyterian Medical Center, New York.</blockquote>
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Do you ever feel like two people? One, rational and measured, capable of assessing a situation accurately and making proper decisions - the other "person" a stranger, acting and reacting to stimuli and events in some kind of primordial way that has no basis in fact? Do you ever find yourself doing or feeling something that is inexplicable and mysterious as to its origin? For me, it really IS like there is this shadow being lurking inside of me who wants no part of facts and figures, who lives on a diet of raw emotion, who mostly stays in the background (shy?), but who is ever vigilant and powerful in her own non-verbal way, always monitoring the pulse of my (her) life, looking out for her own interests, intent on staying alive. And her "brain", it's other....not the active, reasonable, rational brain who runs the day-to-day show. Her brain is content to hum in the background, content to be white noise, but in its own way just as active. It's her brain that asserts itself in quiet moments of contemplation, who counsels to ignore facts and listen instead to her, who says, "Never give up hope". She preaches magic and the stories of children. If I'm open to her, listen to her voice, not shut her down with rationality, does that make me delusional?<br />
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I still love the guy...his birthday is in a few weeks. Told him (e-mail) I would, like last year, make him a birthday cake and drop it off. Asked him to take me out for my birthday (May) like he did last year, even though we were broken up by then. I'm torn because the two voices are battling it out. I know the rational thing is to stare at the hard cold facts and surrender to them, but I can't shut up the other voice that tells me to hold onto the feelings of love and never give up hope. It's hard. Friends, please don't tell me I'm being a crazy stalker to give him a birthday cake (it hurts to hear things like that). For God's sake, it's a birthday cake, not a rabbit in a pot. And please don't tell me to just get over him (if it were that simple, I would have by now). Just be there for me with fun and laughter and accept me for the complicated, dualistic person I am.<br />
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Wow, I didn't intend to write about this today! Was going to write about an article regarding weight loss friend Carol sent over (tomorrow). Challenge today could be renting that movie, "Lars and the Real Girl". Also think about that word, "delusion". Definition, "a belief held in evidence to the contrary". I'm wondering if sometimes delusions take up residence for a reason - there is some kind of work and healing to be done. Bianca was a delusion that healed. Are all delusions a bad thing?<br />
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Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-36802027252106751502013-01-30T06:53:00.001-08:002013-01-30T06:53:26.739-08:00Adorable/Transformation Spa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Busy day. Work. Showing one of the apartments (I have two apartments on the ground floor of my house and one is vacant),taking Robin my accountant out for a birthday lunch, then a kinda date tonight - one of those Internet meet-for-a-drink things. Gloomy few days, right with all the rain? Wait, slap me if I EVER complain about winter rain! A few degrees in temperature and winter rain is easily winter snow and I absolutely hate dealing with copious amounts of snow - firing up the snowblower, sweeping the decks, slipping and sliding in the icy alley, all yuck. Having said that, is there anything more beautiful than a sparkly sunny morning right after a snowfall, everything painted white and pristine?<br />
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Grumbling and confused about something. It was also a theme in my therapy - something to get my arms around at a time when it's easier to get your arms around me! Weight loss and becoming a small person has a downside especially when you're only 5' 2". Twice in the last two weeks, separate people have called me adorable. Another person called me "sweet little bunny". Another person told me, now that I've lost so much weight, they realize how short I am. It's something Kaveh and I talked about at length - the need for me to be BIG. God, it's like I'm a little disgruntled kid complaining, "I'm not a baby!"<br />
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I've lost 116 pounds - that's a whole person. 116 pounds ago, when I walked into a room, I was NOT to be ignored. I wore my weight with authority, unapologetically. These days I don't command that attention - I'm easy to ignore, sweet, little adorable bunny, me. If I really sit with that feeling of getting too small, I have to think it's why my weight has been stuck where it is. I still have a bunch to take off but I've been staring at the same spot on the scale for over a year now. Each time I take a run at further loss, I seem to sabotage myself. Could it be, it scares me to be adorable cuz adorable=little=invisible=powerless? I am still a "woman-hear-me-roar", lioness inside. How do I reconcile that with being precious? Hmmmm......<br />
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Subject change....percolating an idea for a new career. Nothing drastic - I'll still work the telecommunications gig like I have been but I have extra time these days with the kids out of the house, and my work not demanding much time. It's the right time to plan a change. Here are a few of the thoughts that are swirling:<br />
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<li>I truly AM living well....finally. There have been huge changes I've undertaken...the weight loss, completion of therapy, learning to cook and eat in the healthiest of ways, blossoming my creativity (the singing and writing), relinquishing my need to be the master of the universe (the control thing), making a difference in other peoples' lives, falling in love when I thought it would never happen to me, getting fitter, battling clutter and learning how to get things done, taking my place as a wise elder....all wonderful, right?</li>
<li>What if there were a way to leverage all these gifts and accomplishments into a career - helping other people along the same path? What would that look like? A life coach? A nutritionist? A therapist? A GTD (Getting Things Done) facilitator? A creativity muse? A Landmark leader? A Weight Watchers leader? A motivational speaker? A columnist? Seems like there could be a bunch of ways to approach this.</li>
<li>What skills and credential would I need to credibly sell my services and what would the venue be? Do I need to go back to college and become a therapist (an idea that appeals to me)? Should I do something really nontraditional like have a "spa" in my home where people could come and live for a spell (week or two) - I have the apartment! They would spend intensive time with me, attached at the hip, talking, figuring stuff out, making plans for change, learning to shop and cook, walks on the lakefront, and doing something creative like painting, writing or singing. It would be a way to kick start a new life. I would be the guide.</li>
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I'm going to work these ideas and come up with a plan. Your challenge is reaching out to me and letting me know what you REALLY think. Is this pie in the sky? Is there a need for this? Could it become a reality or is Sarah being naive? Thanks in advance for your feedback!</div>
<div>
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<div>
Peace,</div>
<div>
Sarah</div>
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<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-76013910849575977172013-01-29T07:04:00.000-08:002013-01-30T05:58:37.943-08:00End of a Love Affair/Scan Your Children!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span id="goog_1296284059"></span><span id="goog_1296284060"></span><br />
Tuesday....last night was fun at Petterino's. The Cabaret show had been on hiatus for six weeks so we were all itchy to get back on stage. Table of six: Judy, Bernie, Janet, Curt, Adrienne and me. We sang well! There was also the cast from a new Billie Holiday show in attendance and they regaled with a few numbers from the show. Oh, and the amazing Joan Curto and Suzie Petri - Cabaret veterans also treated us to a tune each. Carla Gordon did a cute song she wrote about Twinkies. The song I sang is one that hits close to home - no problem feeling the lyrics on this one!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, I walk a little to fast, and I drive a little too fast,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I'm reckless it's true, but what else can you do at the end of a love affair.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, I talk a little too much, and I laugh a little too much,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And my voice is too loud when I'm out in a crowd, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But what else can you do at the end of a love affair?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Do they know, do they care</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That it's only, that I'm lonely and low as can be</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And the smile on my face isn't really a smile at all?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, I smoke a little too much, and I drink a little too much</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And the tunes I request are not always the best,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But the ones where the trumpets blare.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I go at a maddening pace, and pretend that it's taking his place,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But what else can you do at the end of a love affair?</div>
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
So, the list of my favorite things! I got some good feedback on yesterday's post. My sister, for one, said it inspired her to remove an annoyance from her life. She carts her PC notebook around her house and has found herself irritated by having to tote the power cord too and contort herself to plug it in wherever she goes so, she ordered herself an additional power cord. Little things like that make one feel hummy, yes?<br />
More of Sarah's favorite things:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Fujitsu ScanSnapS1500 Scanner</u></span> - Robin, my accountant, made me get this when we first started working together. It was kind of a gulp 'cuz it's not inexpensive $450ish. And I'd used scanners before and found them to be an annoyance: too big for my desk, slow, finicky, not two-sided, prone to paper sticking and jamming, not forgiving when the paper was rumpled, and, if what I was trying to scan had different page sizes, (think a whole bunch of store receipts) it couldn't handle that. All these things, my Fujitsu handles with ease. Can't say enough good things about it. Really! Chances are if you spend time with me, I'm going to subject you to a scanning demo. And funny! When I was selling the furniture at the office, one gal came for some of the file cabinets and I convinced her to just go buy a scanner instead! Wouldn't it be wonderful if you had almost no paper in your life? If you could reclaim the space that all your paper files take up now? Get this scanner and you'll find yourself scanning EVERYTHING. I have my scanner set to instantly open up to My Documents and "ask" where I want to store the image. It's a breeze to give the document a name and put it where it belongs on my desktop. I keep nothing as paper except for things like stock certificates or original birth records. If I could scan my children I probably would have done so by now! </li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Buffalo TeraStation</u></span> - And should you worry that all your important documents (all those real estate closing documents and IRA statements) now live precariously on your computer which could crash at any moment, stop fretting if you are backing your stuff up properly. Each night my complete hard drive is backed up to my Buffalo - if my computer crashed it would be a snap to rebuild a new one with all my applications and data. Ah...you say, what if your house burned down or someone stole all your electronics? I've got that covered. Each night, in addition to my data being backed up with the Buffalo, I also back up my critical files (everything in My Documents, Outlook and also my Quickbooks) to a cloud provider. It's not expensive if you're just backing up your data (not the apps) - about $50/year. I use a provider called I-Drive and each morning I get a report from them letting me know the backup occurred successfully. </li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Intimacy</u></span> - Here's one for the gals. This is a store on Michigan Ave (in the Bloomingdale's building) - franchised all over the country for those of you not in Chicago. First heard of this store from one of my clients who made a special point of going when she was in town. You've got to make an appointment and be on time. Kind of fun to go with a girlfriend. All the fitters are good - experts in fitting bras. What's amazing is that most women have no clue what their proper bra size should be. And most of us are guilty of wearing our bras too loosely so they don't provide proper support. Chances are, your correct size is two sizes smaller in girth than you've been wearing with a cup size one size larger than you've been wearing. So if you think you're a 36B, chances are they'll fit you into a 32C, or something like that. The bras are expensive - about $100 each and you'll end up buying peripherals like the mesh bag for laundering and the special detergent. I could never go back to department store bras.</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3wPc_1mfOHH9KPehMDWDvTJz5VeNeIAd2T6aF0ij08Q-LZ_UdX87LuVos-Nyp8w74XsC_to50CaHnIPrV4taIsprHblVExVAmljf9RtqUuI8wiheR62__ooM_WfkdBi3k6ey8r_rVaA/s1600/bras.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3wPc_1mfOHH9KPehMDWDvTJz5VeNeIAd2T6aF0ij08Q-LZ_UdX87LuVos-Nyp8w74XsC_to50CaHnIPrV4taIsprHblVExVAmljf9RtqUuI8wiheR62__ooM_WfkdBi3k6ey8r_rVaA/s320/bras.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Pommery Mustard</u></span> - I have a love affair with this mustard and I'm not even an avid mustard lover! First tasted this in my '20's at a party where the host put out a roasted turkey and this mustard - oh, and some good bread. That's was it for the entree. I wasn't eating bread so I filled a plate with fresh roasted turkey and a mound of mustard and sat happily just dipping the turkey into the mustard. I've bought this mustard ever since, give it as gifts, use it in creative ways. Everyone I've given a jar to has similarly become addicted. These days I buy three jars at a time on Amazon - it's hard to find locally. Absolutely incredible - like nothing you've ever eaten before and good for you to boot!</li>
</ul>
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<br />
Well the list is longer but I'll stop now. Didn't write about my enormous Calphalon skillet that looks like it was ridden hard and put away wet - it's that well used. Also could have written about the Dean and DeLuca green tea I order ten boxes at a time, or my Holmes humidifier with a Brita filter that I keep at my head at night to keep my sleeping breathing air moist and healthful. And then there's peeled garlic from Whole Foods - not having to peel sticky garlic makes me happy. My coffee maker with a thermal carafe that keeps my coffee at a proper unscorched temperature all morning. Tantra yoga should probably get it's own blog post and then there's my elliptical trainer, Wikofonia for getting song charts and gel nails to name a few of my other favorite things. Oh, and New Scientist magazine, pilot v-ball fine point pens that I buy by the box and, and.......<br />
<br />
Challenge today - how about looking critically at your infrastructure. Does it serve you well or is your life full of petty annoyances that, if you did something about, would make life better?<br />
<br />
Peace,<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-9445786491329749502013-01-28T09:09:00.000-08:002013-01-28T09:09:32.127-08:00These Are a Few.../Poltergeists<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's Monday again! Funny how that happens! I was proud of myself on Friday - the "bit by the blues" day. There were two ways to go: fall into disrepair and surrender to sadness and lethargy or what I did which was make the list and work the list even though it felt like I was swimming in molasses. I don't know about you, but, when I'm down, the things I normally breeze through with a song on my lips become painfully hard to accomplish. Mantra that's knocking around in my head these days, "I'm tired of disappointing myself." And sure enough, with a list of accomplishments under my belt, I felt great going out in the evening and I had a wonderful time, socializing and singing. Mood lifted.<br />
<br />
Saturday, the memorial for Mark was in a huge and impressive Catholic Church on Chicago's north side (St. Vincent De Paul). It was a good send off for him, decently attended, heartfelt remarks by friends and family. I could have spoken - there was an opportunity but I didn't because I didn't feel my comments were necessary and, had I sung, I think it would have been show-offy. Didn't go to the restaurant afterwards with his scary mother (I understand now why Mark was estranged from her). Instead I went home and cooked healthy food for the week. Christ came over for dinner and rehearsal (he's in my show). Fun. Last night, sang with Mark Burnell at 12 West Elm. Ironic, because earlier, I sent texts to everyone on my text list telling them NOT to go out - the roads were scary slippery - didn't heed my own warning.<br />
<br />
Oh, and yesterday there were match-making Poltergeists in Patrick's and my phones. A text sent to him in error and then an unintended phone call from him (nothing but rustling). And then, later, when I did the freak out with the freezing rain, sure I would lose someone dear to me in an accident, and I communicated with everyone on my text list to STAY PUT!, I included everyone but him. Wasn't going to text him but then got superstitious. "What if he gets in an accident because I failed to include him in my warning? What if the universe decides to punish me?" So, I cautioned him (knowing he hates it when women are mom-ish), threw some salt over my shoulder after walking to the kitchen without stepping on the seams of the tiles (don't want my mother's back broken) and then knocked on some wood. Everyone I love is, to my knowledge, still in one piece this morning. (Too much death lately)<br />
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Last night, as I slipped my Yaktrax on my feet before braving the icy elements, I thought it might be fun to itemize in this blog some of my favorite things. No raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens - this is a much more practical list and if I were mercenary I could probably monetize this blog and make a few dollars by recommending these items and linking readers to purchase sites. But no, that's not the purpose of this blog, so rest assured I have no ax to grind in sharing these favorites with you!<br />
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<ul>
<li>Yaktrax - If you live in the north you really should consider these. There are days like yesterday where even the most sure-footed shoes can't stand up to the icy sidewalks - you risk falling. These little devices fold up pretty small and are easy to slip onto the bottom of your shoes. The metal coils grip the ice and make you incredibly sure-footed - you can run on ice with these on! Only caution is being careful wearing them in the house or a store - they make you less sure-footed on slippery floors. If you get them, opt for the premium ones - you'll want them to last years.</li>
</ul>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>Vibram Five Fingers Shoes - I've written about these before - how in love I am with them. These are my "go-to" shoes - I wear them almost exclusively in the house and have no problem wearing them to run errands (conversation starters!) Picture is of the ones I have, but they come in a bunch of colors and styles. Until I started wearing these shoes I had foot problems - couldn't stand for long, some arthritis, pain when I walked. Now, gone, gone gone. I have the sturdiest and healthiest of feet thanks to these shoes. And it's not just the feet that benefit. By having your feet working harder and better, it improves everything skeletally - leg and pelvis alignment, etc. One caveat. Don't buy these online. You need to get fitted. And when you try them on you will be exasperated. At first your toes are not cooperative, not used to working independently of each other which is what's required to get the right toe into the right slot. Persist and after a week, you'll find yourself slipping into them as easily as slippers. Over time, you'll notice you actually have a bit of spacing between your toes!</li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>Amazon Prime - This is the closet thing I'll ever have to having a magical genie. Seriously, it's uncanny! I wish for something and in in two days it appears on my doorstep! Amazon Prime is a $70ish annual fee you pay so that most everything you purchase includes free shipping. I exploit it. And because I have the Amazon app on my phone, I am only a few clicks away from solving annoying problems. I'm in the kitchen. "Damn the teapot is leaking. I need to get a new one. Let's see what Amazon has. Good price. That red one is stylin'." Scroll. Place order with one click. Two days later a red teapot on my doorstep. Opening my mail . "Damn this letter opener is for shit - so dull. "I know! Amazon app, 'Letter Openers'. That one looks inexpensive and sharp!" Scroll. Click. Two days letter the letter opener fairies deliver a new letter opener to me! Point is, it's the little things that make us crazy and can send us all over town or worse just living with leaky teapots and dull letter openers - a never-ending source of irritations. It's my theory that all those little irritations add up and make us irritable people. Amazon to the rescue.</li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>Jane's Crazy Mixed Up Salt - Have you ever read one of those chef interview articles where the writer asks each chef for a description of their one secret, go-to ingredient? Things like black truffle oil, volcanic sea salt flakes from Cyprus, or preserved lemons, sorghum syrup or raw orange blossom honey? Well my not-so-secret ingredient (cuz I'll tell anyone who asks) is Jane's Crazy Mixed Up Salt. It comes in a little cardboard cylindrical container at the regular grocery store. That and some coarsely ground pepper is often all my cooking needs to be heavenly "scent". </li>
</ul>
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This is fun. Listing and being grateful for things that add ease, zest and health to my life. Getting long here so maybe tomorrow I'll continue the list. There's a bunch more. Your challenge could be trying some of these things with the thought, "If Sarah loves them then they must be worth looking into!"</div>
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Peace and have a wonderful Monday,</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sarah</div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-13302573082453768002013-01-25T08:51:00.000-08:002013-01-25T09:04:39.175-08:00Eulogy/Bit By The Blues<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Friday...determined to have a good day despite the blues. Not sure where they came from but they're here. Really feeling the loss of YKW today, some tears. There is no one who comes close to claiming a spot in my heart the way he did. He just moved in, pitched his tent and voila..soon our hearts were beating as one. I fear I'll never have that again.<br />
<br />
But.....if that's the case, I'll be damned if I'm going to just sit around and wait for something that may never materialize again. There is too much else to do, see, experience. And if that was it.....that one brief time...at least I had it. Some people go to their graves having never experienced the thrill of being in love. It's wonderful and terrifying all rolled up into an unforgettable experience. <br />
<br />
Times like this I lean on infrastructure to keep me on course. Good habits, good mental practices. After this blog I'll force myself to write the list and work the list event though I'm tempted to just curl up with a book and eschew all responsibility. I'll get dressed, fuss with my appearance so that each time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror today it will bring an appreciative smile. Before all that, I'll take a moment for my daily "what was good about yesterday" rumination. Didn't do it this morning cuz I had to jump out of bed and drive Elizabeth to the car mechanic. Then I'll catch up on work and if there's time, light a fire in the music room and work out some songs on the piano. Tonight Adrienne and I at the piano bar at Maggiano's with the enthusiastic (and overinebriated) followers of Bob Solone. It will be diverting.<br />
<br />
Got an email from Mark's mother telling me that she wants me to address my <u>brief</u> remarks and remembrances of Mark at the end of the visitation versus the memorial mass. Not sure what's going on but I can't imagine that there are people lined up to wax poetic about Mark (when I volunteered to talk it was in part because I was worried so few people would show up!) Maybe I got it wrong? Maybe there are a host of people who want to participate in the memorial. Maybe it will be SRO! Maybe Mark was more beloved than I ever dreamed! That would make me happy. Wrote her back and told her I wasn't planning on being there for the visitation - just the mass, so to count me out for speaking altogether. I just couldn't get my arms around standing near what I assume will be an open coffin and addressing people who are coming in and out and milling around. Just seems weird.<br />
<br />
So Mark's eulogy - what I wrote was very short and sweet and I was going to sing that "I'll be Seeing You" song right after reading it. But because it's not going to happen, I'll "read" the eulogy to you:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>Hello Everyone,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i><span style="color: #444444;">I’m Sarah Britton and I
was Mark’s boss and friend for more than ten years. I asked to speak today because Mark and I
were very much a part of each other’s lives. We talked at least several times a week – sometimes several times a day
and our conversations weren't limited to business.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>You probably knew when you
asked Mark , “How are you?” you had
better settle in for a good long chat because Mark assumed you really meant it
– that you wanted to know how he was. In
this way I got to know a lot about Mark and I was usually on the pulse of
whatever new thing he was passionate about.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>Passionate is a great way
to describe Mark. It’s what
I loved best about him. Once he got on a
mission there was absolutely no stopping him.
Whether it was pursuing a sales lead or going to bat for a customer, or
something personal like getting a buff body, learning to box, picking up girls
or leading a healthier lifestyle – once Mark said he was going to do something,
it was a done deal. You could take his word to the bank.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>I’ll miss Mark. He was a
very good employee. Most of all he was a
loyal and true friend. I wish he had known how much he meant to me (to all of
us) at the end. I wish that the last time
I spoke with him – several days before his death when I asked him, “How are you?”
he had opened up his heart to me and not just put on a brave face. I wish he had told me how he really was.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>I’d like to sing this song
for Mark. Yeah, yeah Mark, as you’re
looking down on us, you’re probably thinking, “Oh, God she’s going to sing one
of those old-fashioned corny songs that I hate.” Yup I’m going to sing for you so hold your
angelic tongue and listen politely! If you’re not
careful we’ll spread some of your ashes in the suburbs so behave yourself up
there! <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="color: #444444;"><i>I’ll miss you Mark.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And that is all for today. Your challenge today, if you're having the winter blues like me, is fall back on your infrastructure. You know what it is you need to do to take care of yourself. Self care at times like this = happiness, I'm convinced. You might be lonely, maybe anxious, depressed around the gills, but if you are taking care of yourself and your environment, it's bound to lift your spirits.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Peace,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sarah</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">NADGB</span></div>
Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-50633540322052567592013-01-24T07:06:00.002-08:002013-01-24T07:14:13.612-08:00For the love of a Myna Bird/Snookerer of Little Boys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Thursday and up and at 'em! Last night the writing group. Turned out I didn't lead the prompts - forgot I had asked William to do the honors so, fun to just sit back and be one of the writers. Wasn't sure I liked his first prompt - it was highly directive and I tend to prefer something more open ended - just the suggestion of an idea like a picture or a first line. He had us select one picture from two piles: the first a person, the second a setting. Once we'd made our selection he told us, "You have just been confronted by someone showing you the picture of the person you chose - a person in a position of authority is quizzing you about the person. Write about that exchange and also weave into the story the location you selected. I ended up liking the prompt and what I wrote:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Red hair, you say?" I stalled for time. "Can you be more specific? Are we talking auburn, strawberry blond, or out-of-a-bottle old lady red?" I knew I was shifting from foot to foot - seeming suspicious - probably didn't fool him one bit. </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Mam, I showed you her picture - please just answer the question! Have you seen this woman?" the house detective was, I could tell, losing his patience with me. I looked at the picture more closely - feigning concentration when what I really felt was rising panic. How could he NOT see that, except for the glossy helmet of red hair, everything else was ME! The smattering of freckles across my Doris Day pug nose, the Slavic cheekbones, my painfully thin pale lips! She was ME!! </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"What did she do?" I asked nonchalantly. </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'm not at liberty to say," the littler Hercule Poirot wannabe responded cryptically. "Let's just say, when we find her, it ain't gonna be pretty!" </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So someone had seen me and snapped a picture - but who? I was so careful! I'd waited until only the night front desk person was left before I ventured from my hiding place - under a skirted banquet table that appeared to be staged for a conference the next day - little boxes of cereals, coffee cups and empty covered domed serving dishes. I wore the red wig just in case a camera caught me in action or someone interrupted. </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First, the lovebirds - easy to open their cage but not so easy to get them to leave. They were snuggled together and looked annoyed when I whistled them to freedom. The Myna bird almost blew everything when I removed the cover to his cage, he squawked - must have thought it was morning and feeding time. </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Shush you!" I whispered. "Go now." He waddled across the lobby, looking back at me with beady eyes like a toddler does his mother when he first finds his stride and realizes there's a world out there waiting to be discovered. Insecure but excited. </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wasn't sure about the snakes and iguanas but valor got the better part of my discretion and in the end, I decided not to discriminate between God's creatures. They waited not a minute in securing their freedom. Last I saw, a boa was rounding the corner to the first floor guest rooms and the iguana had scuttled up the flecked wallpaper and was peering at me from a crystal sconce. </span></i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My work done, I returned to my room, glad it wasn't on the first floor, hoping snakes couldn't slither their way up to where I was. This was my life work - the work that chose me when I decided to become a vegan. And really, it was my mother's fault - that book she innocently bought me on my 10th birthday, <u>So, You Love Animals</u>. She'd been in a hurry - last minute Christmas shopping. "This will be nice for Elena!" she must have thought, knowing how much I took to animals. She should have looked inside the book, should have read it herself. Took me a while to be able to pronounce and spell the word "vivisection". Now I'm an activist.</span></i></blockquote>
<br />
I pride myself in using the twenty minutes of writing time wisely, laying down my story and bringing it to a conclusion within the requisite time. The next prompt William gave us was an empty envelope. You have been called to a will reading - you are unsure why you were included. In this envelope is the letter written by the deceased. Write about the reading. I quickly got into my story but soon knew I was in trouble....no way I would finish which bothered me. And yet...I think it has promise! Here is what I wrote:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>The reason I called you all here will soon be evident. You're confused - understandably so. You don't remember me. None of you remembers me and yet, each of you was important to me. You're excited, yes? The reading of a will? The anticipation? Maybe, today will be the answer to all your money problems - maybe you'll walk out of this room a rich man, a rich woman. Yes, that is the hope, surely, or you wouldn't be here, right? </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>If you've all come, there are seven of you. Look around. Do you recognize any of your fellow travelers No, of course you don't. You've never met. and yet, through me, you are connected. Today you will be bonded to each other, inextricably, irrevocably. Only through death will these new-found bonds be severed. The six people you see before you - they will become the most important people in your life - more important than your spouses your children, your parents. You will think of them constantly - worry what they're thinking and doing - worried they might talk. They will, in turn, have the same thoughts about you. </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Let's start with you, Herr Grosse. I've studied you, read the biographies, the newspaper accounts, even interviewed your servants - told them I was writing a book about you. I know more about your life than even you do! Did you know your wife is having an affair with your sister-in-law? You don't remember me do you? Why would you? I was young and fat when we were in school but cute, yes...you must have thought I was cute or you wouldn't have chosen me to be your twisted playmate. Ladies and gents, see before you Herr Grosse, great industrialist and sodomizer of little boys. It's a habit that never dies, eh Herr Grosse? Now your secret lives with your new friends who will know, when they see photo shoots of you cutting the ribbon at some new boy's home, that you are a monster - a snookerer of little boys. </i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Don't look so shocked, Serena! I know you well, know that your mind is whirring with the possibility of blackmail! I know what you're capable of! When you burned the horse farm for the insurance I was in the barn, helping my beloved Sweet Pea give birth to her first foal. I have the burns to prove I was there. I witnessed your crime, saw you walk away from the barn even though the horses were shrieking for help.</i></span></blockquote>
<br />
....and that is all I got done.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading. No challenge today. Just enjoy the chilly winter day. Make soup and find someone to cuddle with. Like the lovebirds.<br />
<br />
Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-35008271535107066632013-01-23T07:48:00.002-08:002013-01-23T12:31:57.288-08:00Polish Your Lenses/Weirdo Vegan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Wednesday and I'm beginning to get my crazy stirred a bit - been home alone a lot these days. Tonight I'll lead the bi-monthly writing group I host in the back room at Panera Bread in Evanston. Today, in anticipation of that, I'll develop several writing prompts to challenge the writers. One cute purchase - story cubes which are dice with images on the sides. Tonight, one of the prompts will be each person rolling two di, one of which is an action, and using what's on the face of the dice as inspiration for a story.<br />
<br />
Also thinking about a prompt that requires the writer to include something bizarre and absurd that, to the reader, is absolutely improbable but within the narrative, all the characters accept as normal. I'm reading that George Saunders book I ordered after reading an article in the NYT entitled "<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/06/magazine/george-saunders-just-wrote-the-best-book-youll-read-this-year.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0" target="_blank">George Saunders Has Written The Best Book You'll Read This Year</a>. It's a collection of short stories and I agree he is a very good writer with a new voice. One thing that kind of pisses me off is that, in the story I just read, he uses the = sign exactly as I do! i.e., Lilly=sad or party=disaster! Everyone will think I copied him given that he's the famous writer and I'm just me. Sigh... Anyway, one of the stories was about a Russian immigrant and his family living humbly in a posh neighborhood, trying to keep up with the Jones'. Lawns and lawn ornaments are THE measure of affluence and status. The protagonist comes into some money and the first thing he does is upgrade his yard: plush grasses, fish ponds, statues. He also orders a tasteful arrangement of live human art, four girls tastefully arranged near the fish pond who are held there with a cable that is surgically implanted through their heads - they are strung along like paper dolls - almost identical, long black flowing hair, sheer white dresses, height matched. Lovely to behold especially when the wind kicks up and the dresses billow.<br />
<br />
Weird right? Everyone who's anyone in this story has an assortment of foreign girls decorating their property and they feel good about it because the girls have chosen the life, escaping horrors in their home countries (sex slaves, refugees, etc). Not sure what the author is telling us - very very thought provoking. The Russian's youngest daughter is the only one who says, "This is not right!" (think, The Emperor has no clothes!) Under cloak of darkness, she frees the girls (were they really there of their own volition after all?)<br />
<br />
Ruminating on this story - the thought that is percolating is, "What is it that I think is right and normal that someone else, with a less conditioned lens, might find appalling?" I'm already a bit of a rebel, fighting the good fight against the overuse and Pavlovian effects of too much technology. Seeing the food industry for the agenda ridden group it is, is another way I have wiped my lenses clean. Studying and appreciating our unreality is a way I've improved my life - detaching from daily drama in a healthy way, knowing none of it means much. And yet....there's more I'm sure.<br />
<br />
Ugh....I think I know one blind spot Last night I browsed around NetFlix (I know...the no TV thing..sometimes I indulge with caution). Decided to watch a documentary on vegan-ism . No clue why cuz I DO NOT want to be a crazy vegan. First off, I really enjoy meat. Second, there is already so much I've given up (most grains, dairy, wheat) what else will there be left to eat? I had to turn my IPad off when they showed how animals are "processed". Damn.....I think I'm headed that way (vegan-ism). Thinking it wasn't an accident I read that short story the same day as watching that documentary. Can I repeat.....I DO NOT want to be a weirdo vegan! Wish I could banish the growing thought that maybe slaughtering animals for food is the same as stringing up Laotian girls on a wire cable for lawn ornamentation.<br />
<br />
Challenge today. Couple. You could get the George Saunders book (it is, after all the best book you'll read this year!) You could also give some thought to his story and take a stab at looking at the things you do and believe that just might, by someone more evolved or enlightened, be seen as bizarre and misguided. Let's see - what might some of those things be? Riding a motorcycle? Going to church? Using clean water to brush your teeth (picked that one because I read where a supplanted African boy from a drought-ridden country was amazed to see his U.S. hosts brush their teeth with fresh running water - what a waste he thought!), put Aspartame in your coffee, not spank your kids, spank your kids, lay in the sun, live in a city, barbecue.<br />
<br />
One thing is certain as you make your list. There are powerful influences at work and, like Uncle Sam, they WANT YOU, they are targeting you. I think it's important to be aware that there are organizations whose primary objective is getting you to do something that will improve their bottom line and perpetuate their existence. Picture this: an obese man (too much high fructoce corn syrup and procesed foods), with a drink in his hand (alcohol lobby), carrying a gun (according to the NRA we're nuts if we're not packing), with cancer (cancer is good for the economy - you should do your part and get it so that you can support all the health workers devoted to caring for it), with his I-Phone beeping incessantly on his belt.<br />
<br />
Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-63743546453896833092013-01-22T08:51:00.001-08:002013-01-22T08:58:18.381-08:00Alcopops??/Joe Camel In A Bottle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Very chilly Tuesday here in Chicago! Glad I've got the hatches battened down! Or to be more precise, when the cold weather impends, I get this ropey, claylike caulk stuff that you unroll and press into the crevices of the windows. It works well to keep the drafts at bay and in the spring it's very easy to remove and discard. Thinking today is perfect for a nice fire in the fireplace - trying to muster the fortitude to go out and fill my arms with firewood from the woodpile. I've got two cribs going - each year I order a half cord and let the newest delivery age for a year before using it.<br />
<br />
Happy for some inexplicable reason! Can't think of anything that's appreciably different about my life that should bring me contentment and yet, I'm feeling sunny. Gonna work the monster list today, apply a good, honest work ethic to the day, cuddle up with a good book tonight (maybe by the fire) and drink green tea.<br />
<br />
Ah.....drinking....that is what I'll talk about today, having just read a very interesting (and alarming) article yesterday in New Scientist. As for me? I'm delighted to say I have a really good, respectful and careful relationship with alcohol these days. The whole "only drink martinis on Federal holidays" started out as a joke, but it's something I've mostly stuck to and what was becoming a dependency is now simply an occasional pleasure. It pleases me no end to have taken on that bad nascent habit by the nose ring and mastered it. Now, mostly when I go out, my go-to drink is Perrier with a splash of cranberry juice and a wedge of lime. Once in a while, if I have the WW points, I'll have a single glass of red wine - no more than 1-2 a week. Do you remember in a previous post I talked about the health benefits of red wine? It's wonderful to think that something so indulgent is actually good for you but the question, "How much is good for you?" is something that wasn't identified until recently - researchers crunched the numbers and measured the effects of alcohol to determine the point of crossover where any health benefit was lost by over-consumption. I think we all expected to be told a glass a day is fine, but no....seems the magic number is 2.5 glasses a week. More than that, and lifespan is shortened vis-a-vis folks who drink the recommended amount or none at all.<br />
<br />
So, the article, <u><a href="http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg21728992.300-battle-of-the-bottle-how-to-curb-overindulgers.html?" target="_blank">The Battle of the Bottle</a></u>. Interesting. Just like the focus on obesity, expect to see some serious initiatives on worldwide drinking in the not-too-distant future. The World Health Organization is beating the drum, having recently categorized excessive drinking as the third most important contributor to ill health, just behind tobacco and high blood pressure. (Huh? High blood pressure - did you know that is the number one killer in the world? Think we need to know more about that!) Anyway, booze. The U.S. stats are sobering even though there are eighteen other countries who outdrink us. Even so, the average American drinks the equivalent of 24 litres of vodka per year. That's about a half a liter per week (about two cups). In all fairness, the statistics are skewed by the heaviest drinkers. In fact, in the U.S., the heaviest drinkers consume about 45% of the total alcohol consumed, so maybe the numbers for the 90% look more like a cup of vodka a week. Still that's a lot, right?<br />
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What's really concerning is that the alcohol industry is very cleverly appearing to be on board with concern for the health effects of too much alcohol. Unlike the tobacco companies who made the mistake of denying the deleterious effects of tobacco until internal documents were uncovered that revealed their conspiratorial behavior, the alcohol companies are coming to the table and offering resources to help battle alcoholism. They would, on the surface, appear to be conducting themselves like good corporate citizens. Truth is anything but. There are three things that health professionals have identified as deterrents to over-drinking: increasing prices, restricting availability and banning advertisements. The alcohol industry is discounting these findings with phony science aimed to create uncertainty among policy makers. They have a "think tank" in Washington, ICAP (International Center for Alcohol Policies) that is bankrolled by the world's largest alcohol producers. They have been extremely effective in pushing for policies aimed at identifying and providing help to problem drinkers while at the same time downplaying the evidence that price, availability and advertising would reduce drinking overall in a seriously significant way. Thinking they're evil just like the tobacco companies. Most recently, they've been cleverly marketing to underage drinkers ("Joe Camel in a bottle?") and denying it - yet the statistics are irrefutable. Did you know you can buy alcopops? Who do you think the intended audience for those are! If you said, "kids", you're right!<br />
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Anyway, good article and it especially hit home for me after this weekend. Without being smug or critical I was concerned that, at the afternoon reception for the boy who died of an overdose, liquor was served. Isn't that ironic? Celebrating the life of a boy who died of an overdose by drinking to his memory? And many of the people I witnessed drinking had absolutely no business with a drink in their hands. It was really really sad and upsetting.<br />
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Challenge today is looking critically at your own relationship to alcohol - too many of my friends abuse it. I worry for you. If a drink is not an <u>occasional</u> pleasure, but something you need, then own that and get your arms around a solution whether it means something simple like designating federal holidays as your fun days or, if the problem is more serious, getting some help. I hope I'm not coming across as self-satisfied. I'm truly grateful for the brain chemistry I have. My flirtation with a drinking problem was born of sadness and too much socializing, not a biochemical propensity. I understand that, for many people, it's really addictive, insidious and potentially life-ruining.<br />
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Peace,<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-63120321064177642552013-01-21T06:29:00.002-08:002013-01-21T08:19:26.051-08:00Rage-ectomy/Fake, Fake, Fake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Monday. Chilly mid-winter day which is as it should be in Chicago in January. Busy day today - client lunch and doctor's appointment in the afternoon so up early to get a good start. The weekend was a mini slice of life. There was anger and hurt, frustration, tremendous sadness, nostalgia, worry, tender moments, lots of laughter, new connections and hope.<br />
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Friday evening, ladies' party hosted my friend Carol. Noticed when I RSVP'd that it was her birthday so I insisted on bringing her a cake. Made the mammoth carrot cake I perfected the recipe for, for Patrick's birthday last year. When I checked the address for the party, I noticed on the evite list two people who, for reasons unknown to me, dumped me as a friend years ago. Every now and again I see these people in social settings and they are sweet as sugar, air-kissing, feigning interest and acting, for the duration of the event, as if there is nothing wrong. When I saw their names, anger welled (was having a feisty day) and I decided I wasn't going to do that to myself - subject myself to fake, fake, nice, nice. So, I brought Carol the cake and announced I wasn't staying, saw the two gals, ducked their embraces and scowled at them - then left. Went into the city to sing at Maggiano's.<br />
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The day had started feisty with Kirk (aka Luke). Asked him what he was doing Saturday night and he told me he was going on a date with a gal from the Brazilian embassy. "Seriously, did you just tell me you are going on a date with someone else when just last week you couldn't keep your hands off me?" Told him his ambivalence was insulting. And the thing is, I know he really likes me.....I fit his bill. And yet his whole life he's grazed restlessly at the smorgasbord of womenhood, not settling down for fear of missing out on the next course - not being present with one person at a time (he's never been married for that reason). Told him, if he likes this Brazilian gal to do better by her. Told him he had blown any chance that something between him and me could develop. Done.<br />
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And then the memorial service for my friend's child (the overdose). Standing room only. My ex and youngest daughter performed in the church. The reception that followed was bittersweet - old home week, saw people I hadn't laid eyes on in over fifteen years. Lots of hugs and tears and it made me want to try harder to preserve connections. I was introduced to my two nieces, ages 13 and 16 who I hadn't seen since they were 3 and 6. Lovely young ladies who hadn't a clue who I was. "Hi there, I'm your Aunt Sarah." Awkward, right? And then dinner afterwards with business friends from back then - old home week. "What every happened to..." "Do you remember...." Some hard feelings put aside - we are older, wiser and not so omnipotent as we felt back then.<br />
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That blast from the past got me to thinking about who I was back then, how I conducted myself in the world and how differently I operate now with some years under my belt, therapy behind me and some needed life comeuppance. People are mostly interested in the fact that I have emerged from five years of serious, intensive therapy - why I did it, what I got out of it. So, interesting to hear my explanations - me trying to give someone a nutshell version of something that isn't easily fitted into a nutshell - a compelling soundbite. And what I heard coming from my mouth impressed even me. "The biggest thing I got from therapy is the loss of rage - a rage-ectomy."<br />
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Rage. It's what I want to talk about today. It's such an unacceptable emotion. So unacceptable that most people who have rage coursing through them can't even identify themselves as full of it. It's on our minds though, right? - especially after the killings in Connecticut. When one of us cracks with rage and goes on a rampage we are repulsed. We behave as if rage is an anomaly. Had you asked me at the onset of therapy if I was a rageful person I would have thought the question bizarre and off the mark. I didn't see myself as operating from an angry place, didn't own my rageful feelings at all. On the occasions rage leaked out I was mortified and confused. "Where is this coming from?"<br />
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This is what I think. Rage is all around us and within us. As children we express rage readily but learn, over the course of our adulthood, to suppress it and neaten up our persona - yet the rage is still there, just varnished over. It expresses itself differently. No longer do we fall to the floor, thrash around and cry bitterly when we feel unloved or mistreated. Many of us turn the rage inward, having gotten a societal message that it's NOT OK to express it or hurt others with our angry words or actions. Substance abuse, eating disorders, passive aggressive behaviors, the need to control, promiscuity, sarcasm - it's the rage alive within us, still alive as ever but expressing itself in a way that makes us socially acceptable.<br />
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Funny....you're reading this and I'm guessing a good portion of you can't relate. You do not carry rage around...you don't identify with the thought that you might be a very angry person living in a pacifist's body. That was me. When Kaveh said things like, "I think you were very very angry about that," I didn't get it. Took a long time to own up my fury and even longer to expel it like some huge hair ball.<br />
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So, Friday night, I owned my anger - didn't turn it on myself with self-loathing behaviors. Old me would have gone to the party and coped by eating and drinking too much and faking my way through the evening, hoping those gals would rethink their disdain of me and see me as the wonderful person I am. New me says, "Nah....bitches got me wrong....their loss...I'm leaving here and going to where I'm appreciated and can feel positive about myself." Felt good to be real.<br />
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Challenge - you guessed it. Think back to when you were a kid and how easily you expressed your true emotions and how that changed as you took your place in polite society. Is it possible you're carrying rage around like a ball and chain, calling it something else?<br />
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Peace,<br />
SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-57502155417975040532013-01-18T10:20:00.001-08:002013-01-18T10:20:14.590-08:00Lone Wolf/Smacks of Crack<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Friday and the weekend is upon us - terrific! Having said "terrific" I have two back-to-back very sad Saturdays ahead of me. Tomorrow, the memorial for my friend's child who died of a drug overdose and next Saturday, visitation and a mass for my employee Mark who killed himself last week. Talked for the first time with his mother yesterday. She asked me to speak at the service which I'm happy to do. Don't think it's going to be all that easy to write a eulogy for Mark. Weird, right? Me of the many words? It's just that he was hard to love and the room will be filled with people wanting to pay their respects but who never really connected with him in a deep way. They will have their bullshit radar tuned for false accolades. If someone gets up there and waxes poetically about how Mark was loved by everyone he knew, that his passing will leave a big void for everyone who knew him. If they talk abut how sweet and generous he was, how he put people at ease, how he lived his life with generosity and acceptance, I won't be the only one in the room puking inside. None of that was Mark - he was a porcupine - hard to be close to. I believe he never experienced love in any form, either giving or receiving. So, the challenge will be to write something authentic that won't smack of crack. Tall order.</div>
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I've got wolves on the mind. Maybe because Mark was, to my mind, a lone wolf in search of a pack. Also, article Carol sent me entitled, <u><a href="http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/01/16/in-the-shadows-of-wolves-and-man/?ref=global-home&pagewanted=print" target="_blank">In the Shadow of Wolves and Man</a></u> written by David Gonzalez about photographer Christian Houge whose life work is photographing wolves up close and personal. And in keeping with the wolf theme, I keep coming back to a very insightful article Michael Moore wrote after the Sandy Hook killings - <u><a href="http://www.michaelmoore.com/words/mike-friends-blog/celebrating-prince-peace-land-guns" target="_blank">Celebrating the Prince of Peace in the Land of Guns</a>.</u> In it, Moore tries to get to the root of our society's ills, to make sense of the shooting, and talks about our country's lone wolf mentality.<br />
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Christian Houge had to learn the language of wolves and face his fears. He learned how to behave around wolves, allowing dominant members of a pack to actually greet him by putting their tongues in his mouth (a way of showing they're in charge). Love this quote:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The wolf pack that has longevity is a family," he said. "it is a pair, not one male, but a male and a female If they are secure enough in themselves, they let the weak individual lead the pack. If one has a fantastic nose, even if it is weaker, they'll let it run first to lead the pack to the kill. These weaker individuals feel a part of something larger - it's 'We need you for the pack to be stronger.' That's a perfect example of how business should be led - including people, not excluding...</blockquote>
And in the Michael Moore article, he identifies the "Me"society as being who we have become as a nation.<br />
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I think it's the every-man-for-himself ethos of this country that has put us in this mess and I believe it's been our undoing. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps! You're not my problem! This is mine! </blockquote>
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Clearly, we are no longer our brother's and sister's keeper. You get sick and can't afford the operation? Not my problem. The bank has foreclosed on your home? Not my problem. Can't afford to go to college? Not my problem. </blockquote>
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And yet, it all sooner or later becomes our problem, doesn't it? Take away too many safety nets and everyone starts to feel the impact. Do you want to live in that kind of society, one where you will then have a legitimate reason to be in fear? I don't. </blockquote>
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I'm not saying it's perfect anywhere else, but I have noticed, in my travels, that other civilized countries see a national benefit to taking care of each other. Free medical care, free or low-cost college, mental health help. And I wonder - why can't we do that? I think it's because in many other countries people see each other not as separate and alone but rather together, on the path of life, with each person existing as an integral part of the whole. And you help them when they're in need, not punish them because they've had some misfortune or bad break. I have to believe one of the reasons gun murders in other countries are so rare is because there's less of the lone wolf mentality among their citizens. Most are raised with a sense of connection, if not outright solidarity. And that makes it harder to kill one another.</blockquote>
And then I'm reminded of the article I reference before, <u><a href="http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/12/16/the-freedom-of-an-armed-society/?pagewanted=print" target="_blank">The Freedom of an Armed Society</a></u>. To quote the author, Firm In Debrabander, "Our gun culture promotes a fatal slide into extreme individualism. It fosters a society of atomistic individuals, isolated before power - and one another - and in the aftermath of shootings such as at Newtown, paralyzed with fear. That is not freedom but quite its opposite.<br />
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Fact is too many of us ARE becoming lone wolves in search of a pack. Even me. I spend each day alone in my chic home office with little face time with other human beings. I write this blog in an effort to feel connected while the reality is, I have no idea if there are connections being made - I am "speaking" alone and into a black hole called Internet. And maybe you DO feel the spark of connectedness to me - maybe once in a while my writing touches you. So there we are, maybe sharing a bit of connection but on the opposite sides of a bits and bytes cloud, feeling like something is missing. Something IS missing.<br />
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Thinking much of this is an unintended consequence of the Information Age. So much information but so few connections between people. Love my weekly coffee klatching with my neighbor Una - she actually sits across from me in a REAL chat room! Challenge today could be doing a self-assessment. How strong are your in-the-flesh connections these days?<br />
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Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-36597648093492191262013-01-17T07:41:00.001-08:002013-01-17T10:26:18.866-08:00James=Genius!/Woodcarving for You?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Still battling the cold that I and everyone else seems to have or had. Went to a Chicago Cabaret Professionals "meet and greet" last night. Kind of fun. They do it a few times a year so members can get face time with each other, see what folks are working on, talk about the year's agenda, etc. I shouldn't have sung cuz what's coming out of my mouth these days is not healthy! The vocal chords have seized and I risk damaging them with my impatience to perform. I hope I never suffer what befell Julie Andrews when she lost her voice completely due to botched surgery. I can live without a lot: carbs, wheat, dairy, sugar, wealth, prestige, romance but singing? I don't think I could live without a song on my lips.<br />
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Did you read the blog several days ago that included my creative writing from last Wednesday's prompt group - entitled Sally and Dee-Dee? I think I did well, incorporating all five of the first lines given into a cohesive and compelling (albeit dark) piece that I conceived and wrote in only twenty minutes. I'm pretty darn good at that - writing those little vignettes! So, if you agree and found my writing good you will be all the more amazed with what James created from that very same prompt in the same amount of time. Almost puts my effort to shame! He is frigging amazing - there is genius there! The following piece is absolutely brilliant, birthed by him with seeming effortlessness, complete and perfect right from his fingers to the keyboard with no editing or massaging. And it even rhymes!!!! Here goes:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The hooting of an owl is what awakened me from a sound sleep. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Not the bark of a dog or the bray of a sheep </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Nor the moan of the wind or a cricket's soft cheep </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Just the hoot of an owl brought me up from the deep. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">It was dark outside and there were not stars to be seen </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Only satiny shadows and the moon's silver beams </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">And the rustle of branches in the soft summer breeze </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">And the bark of the alders with their silvery sheen </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The small meadow surrounded by trees was my home </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I'd no need to wander and no need to roam </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The deer were my playmates, the gophers and voles </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">And we capered and danced on the soft earthy loam </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">But the hoot of an owl had awoke me this night </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">A sound filled with warning, a voice filled with fright </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Something was coming, something's not right </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Something that kept itself hidden from sight </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The forest grew silent, the breeze soft and still </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The moon sank down westward and touched the low hill </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I slunk to the trees where ran a small rill </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">And hunkered and waited my blood running chill </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">From out of the blackness revealed at last </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Black form against moonlight a thing from the past </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">My heart leapt and hammered, the sight held me fast </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">as the thing raised its muzzle and called out a great blast </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Ten hands stood the thing, with fur all in tangles </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">With chitinous claws that could rend and could mangle </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">and glimmering scales that jingled and jangled </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">from slavering jaws long ropes of drool dangled </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">On all fours it crept though it rose up on two </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">It's wide glowing eyes were a brilliant sky blue </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">From its back sprouted wings I watched as they grew </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">It bellowed once more, its wings flapped, and it flew. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I no longer stay in the meadow at dark </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I hide in the trees with the wrens and the larks </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">and I lurk in the needles and cling to the bark </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">and become one with the shadows, one with the dark </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I am ever watchful now when it's night </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I know not where the thing flew, I know not how high </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I only know now with the breezes soft sigh </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">To keep one eye always on the deep starless sky.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just imagine what he could do if he had forty minutes!!!! Gotta run cuz monster list beckons and I've got my IT person coming today to fix my wireless network, klatching with neighbor Una this afternoon and if I'm up to it the first night in a new Landmark seminar series. So busy!!!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Challenge today - harping, harping I know. What is your creative outlet? I know, you're busy too, there aren't enough hours in your day. And yet, if you're not expressing yourself creatively I have to think you aren't all that happy. There's something, surely. Creative cooking, dusting off an instrument, woodworking, knitting, dancing, writing, home improvements.....something.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Peace,</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sarah</span></span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-42407580743713952122013-01-16T06:32:00.000-08:002013-01-16T12:26:14.253-08:00Obesity Internment Camps/Myopic=Misery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU224AicbxLVnCfLbmX-C5hsRuqOIJttt6cvt4bgYBi8fIG_oMLE_qGLfb9w3xV4iBbj57MHVJ9oOcP1lfbf1cwfHGC2WXExf-VQqS_gCmJUNR-K1zz34bo0WA_vx9EJfs4T_wQyaLq-M/s1600/obesity+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU224AicbxLVnCfLbmX-C5hsRuqOIJttt6cvt4bgYBi8fIG_oMLE_qGLfb9w3xV4iBbj57MHVJ9oOcP1lfbf1cwfHGC2WXExf-VQqS_gCmJUNR-K1zz34bo0WA_vx9EJfs4T_wQyaLq-M/s1600/obesity+2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Writing this early - it's late Tuesday night. Weird enervating day but time with Martin tonight was just what the doctor ordered....peace with him. He asked me, "Are you happy?" Thought for a good long time, then answered, "It depends on how close I am to the canvas." What I meant was, if I'm right up close and looking at each day and relationship (or lack thereof) with a magnifying glass I would have to say I'm often dissatisfied - unhappy. If, though, I take a bunch of steps back and re-look at the picture with perspective, what I see is lovely. Moral of that story? Myopic=missing the big picture=misery.<br />
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With Mark's death, I just got a whole lot busier - client meeting tomorrow morning at ten which is why I'm writing this early. Looks like that monster list just grew teeth!!<br />
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Given that it's January and fitness and weight loss is on everyone's mind, let's continue that discussion. Predictably, the room was packed at my WW meeting on Saturday - standing room only. By next month, the room will have thinned to half that number of folks - those New Year's resolutions having fallen by the wayside and people falling back into their old habits. I was down 3.8 pounds which was a mini miracle. What's more the knees are feeling almost great these days - the inflammation gone - could it be from giving up the wheat? At WW I'm a poster child despite the weight I still have to lose. My before and after pictures and story are featured on their bulletin board as an inspiration to other members. The attention is nice especially for an attention hog like myself, but the downside is, I feel such a responsibility to lead by example and my progress (or lack of) is watched closely by everyone in attendance. Each week the leader singles me out. "And everyone, this is Sarah. Sarah how much weight have you lost and how did you do this week?" Some weeks - ugh to have to admit to a number that's going the wrong way!<br />
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Worried though. There's a storm a-brewing in this country - a witch-hunt assembling. Think of the war waged on smokers and how they've been relegated to little huddled groups that gather 51' feet from a building's entrance. And don't get me wrong - I hate smoking and second-hand smoke - so nice to eat in a restaurant without someone lighting up next to you or singing in a bar without being choked out by cigarette haze. So, do I feel sad for smokers who now have to partake of their habit in the elements, far away from their healthier brethren? Not really. The reason for the analogy is to illustrate how we as a society can turn on each other with righteousness and callous disdain. Smokers have been relegated to aberrant second class citizens in modern society. Pariahs.<br />
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The storm that's brewing is a similar approach to obesity. Look to other countries to see what trends are incubating. I remember reading, well before the credit crunch hit the U.S., that in the years to come, there would be a credit clamp-down in our country. This was at a time when credit was flowing like water. It worried me but I put it out of my mind - figured it was a scare tactic. It wasn't. So now, when I hear what other countries are doing and considering about obesity, I take it very seriously - you should too. Just Google "What other countries are doing about obesity" and you'll read stuff like this.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Obesity has become a worldwide epidemic. In Japan, they are
measuring the waistlines of people 40 and older. Those considered too fat are
ordered to undergo diet counseling. Failure to slim down results in fines. New
Zealand has rules barring people who are too fat from immigrating to their
country. In Great Britain, where 50% of the population is overweight, residents
in some cities are being recruited to wear an electronic tracking device to
calculate how much they move each day and how many calories they burn. Those
that exercise daily are rewarded with store coupons and days off from work.<br />What do you think?
Is the U.S. doing enough to fight obesity?</i></span></blockquote>
<br />
And remember Eugene, the fellow of Chinese descent I had dinner with who is obsessed with weight and is trying to crack the nut on why people get fat and what they can and should do to shed the pounds? He is, as you remember, not large on tact. At first our correspondence was academic and properly polite but soon passions were aroused (see blog entitled "Fat Obese Monster/Enlarge Your Aesthetic" to read his diatribe on obese people). After that, the correspondence escalated further with me deciding subtlety is totally lost on Eugene. Gloves off. Here is an excerpt from something I wrote to him:<br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">I deliberately chose not to focus on the health detriments of
obesity because there is no disagreement between us. It’s clear that
humans are on a bad track healthwise. Of course I agree with everything
you’re concerned about and I do think it’s an issue that needs our best
thinkers figuring out what is causing this decline in our civilization. I
suspect that the answers are complex, interwoven and the solutions might not be
obvious or easy. </span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">The difference between how we think is that you seem to be only
about individual responsibility – the whole pull yourself up by your
bootstraps. Makes sense because that’s your go to” place – it’s
your personality to just take the bull by the horns and wrestle a problem to
the ground. I suspect that, when faced with adversity, you instantly move
to action. Not everyone is like you. It’s just as common for people to become
confused and enervated and flounder.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">I like your initial “everyone’s problems are my problems”
statement. Take that further. There is something very wrong with modern
civilization that is having a horribly detrimental effect on human’s health. I
think there are lots of factors at play – you and I have discussed a bunch of
them. There are sinister companies whose primary objective are pumping more
calories into people (picture people sitting around a boardroom table and
trying to figure out how to get people to ingest more corn) Our government is
complicit because they’re the ones who have created the huge biomass of huge
corn through subsidies (this is taken from Michael Pollen’s book) The
work that we do – hours spent at the computer. The way we live that requires
vehicular travel. The way we entertain ourselves. Technology means
we spend more time glued to screens. We don’t even have to go to the bank
anymore! Lately I date on line – half the time I don’t even meet the
interesting people I meet – we just connect virtually. Point is – it’s
all adding up to an environment and culture that is toxic to humans.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">You and I are people of unusual will. Rather than expect
everyone else to be like us, we should be aware that we’re different and
rare. We are the absolute wrong people to trying to forge any kind of
public policy because it’s too tempting to just tell people to do what we did.
Let me tell you how difficult it’s been to lose this weight. Each and
every day I feel like a salmon swimming upstream. Another analogy would be
walking through a minefield. I am constantly bucking current
culture. It’s not a friendly world out there to people who are trying to
live differently. People think I’m odd not to have a television. My
friends cringe when I ask them to eat with me at Blind Faith restaurant – they
press me for the burger joint where there is nothing I can eat. When I
sing weekly at Petterino’s I have to endure my friends ordering pastas, big
cuts of meat with mounds of potatoes, an overflowing bread basket, goblets of
wine, and the desserts, oh my……the desserts. And now that I’ve given up
wheat and dairy it’s like I’m a Martian. It’s so damn hard and it’s
not just one meal or day I have to manage but I have to live in this uncomfortable
world that puts daily obstacles in my way each and every day, many times a
day. Maybe I’m the super hero to hold fast in the face of the onslaught
of unhealthy choices!!! I get why most people buckle over time.</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Why should it be this hard to make healthy choices? Why
should we live in a culture where the deck is stacked against us? That’s
the question we need to answer. Why does our environment not support
healthy habits? Animals in the wild live in a healthy way because their
environment leads them to it, not because they have to have an iron will.
It’s not a choice to be healthy or unhealthy. My guess is that it’s a
natural thing to choose pleasure over health. Do you think a bear would
brave the rapids to snag fish if there were an easy, lazy supply of berries and
honey right outside their den?</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">For you weight is a hot topic and it’s not just because it’s a
public health crisis. More is going on there. You are repulsed and
disgusted by fat people. That is different than being concerned about their
health. Own that . The science is on your side – the
arguments you make for action are valid but your motivation is tainted by your
prejudice and aesthetic. Your observations are harsh and unloving and you
lack empathy for what is, for many, a very difficult struggle. I suspect
empathy is something of which you are in very short supply. </span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">There are brilliant and amazing people in the world for whom
weight is an Achilles heel, just like alcohol is for others. Does Eugene
have an Achilles heel? An area of your life where your cylinders aren’t firing?
Don’t know you well but perhaps you are a ninny when it comes to financial
planning and money management. Or maybe you have a porn addiction. I’m
being funny but even Superman had a weakness (Kryptonite). Doesn’t mean
he wasn’t awesome – it was just his blind spot. So unless you are
perfect, don’t you dare pick on fat people as being somehow less valuable
members of society than thin people. Yes there are social costs to
obesity but there are also social costs to many other diseases that are found
in the population at large and that are also lifestyle based (smoking, alcohol
and drug addiction, eating disorders, poor eating in general, etc).</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Eugene that is why I say you are the wrong man for the
job. You hate fat people…..to you they are an eyesore. You think they
lack character. Societal parasites. There is another solution. It
worked during WWII. You could help to enact an emergency measure where
all fat people are rounded up and put in internment camps. Richard
Simmons could be the camp director and the twofold benefit is that they would
no longer be an unsightly blight in the world AND they could thin down in the
internment camps, only allowed to leave once their waists were smaller than
34”. I think wrist tattoos with the original waistline size would be a
good idea – why not throw a little shame in there????</span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Hugs,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sarah<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">(if you can get your arms around me!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">All for today. We'll talk more about this. Your challenge today could be crystallizing your own thoughts on this issue. I believe that, in the not too distant future, we will witness public policy aimed at the overweight among us. We, as a nation, are capable of </span></span><span style="font-size: 15px;">tremendous</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> stupidity when it comes to personal issues like this (think of the most recent campaign and some of the statements and ideas that were floated by some </span></span><span style="font-size: 15px;">misogynistic</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> Republican men who wanted government in women's panties!) Let's decide now what our bottom line is. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Peace,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sarah</span></span></div>
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4086979956236807317.post-56514588970637506662013-01-15T09:35:00.002-08:002013-01-15T09:49:05.452-08:00Tuda/Savannah for Me?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpzMSbEJIovlW9HnsuU5sCcP3LyfQ2ulGrdau6pAonPz4B2kPEP5URC8wiVm_CPy1cpLp0ZQqA_MvJHwKfx-HhmwlGk4nLz3u7WD9IdGzIt7dWgviHD9ZGiY_85vHCUvnhyphenhyphenTMb3Xr8Zw/s1600/savannah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpzMSbEJIovlW9HnsuU5sCcP3LyfQ2ulGrdau6pAonPz4B2kPEP5URC8wiVm_CPy1cpLp0ZQqA_MvJHwKfx-HhmwlGk4nLz3u7WD9IdGzIt7dWgviHD9ZGiY_85vHCUvnhyphenhyphenTMb3Xr8Zw/s1600/savannah.jpg" /></a></div>
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Normally I have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to write about when I sit down to this blog. Not today, though. Kinda crashing over here under the weight of everything that's been going on. Maybe you're like me with a delayed emotional response to life's events. It's useful, right? Enables you to be commander in chief when crisis looms and everyone around you is unraveling. You do your unraveling later. Ha! Reminds me of when Tuda's kittens were born. She was an inbred Siamese - a dainty thing with no clue what was happening to her body. She seemed to lack most normal cat instincts which made her kind of cool because she didn't know she was supposed to be aloof and standoffish. Anyway, when it was time for her to deliver her kittens she didn't nest - didn't find an appropriate corner of a closet to claim as her nursery. Instead she paced Steve's and my bed and when the first kitten came, it came with a gush right between our heads. Steve was grossed out and exited the scene. "I'm going to sleep in Madeleine's room - good luck." It was just us gals - Tuda and me - it promised to be a long night.<br />
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I raced through the house getting supplies: scissors, dental floss, towels forgetting that I was stark naked and freezing (I hate pajamas). In all, there were six babies that came despite Tuda's reluctance to be a mother and take any part in the process. Towards the end, she was so tired I had to massage the babies out of her pushing them out like you would toothpaste. And each baby that was born had a slimy sack that hung deflated from the umbilical cord that connected the newborn kitten to the afterbirth still inside Tuda. With my face inches away, I felt for the cord and tied it with dental floss and then, ever so carefully, being careful not to cut the kitten's tail, I cut the cord. I cleaned up the kitten and waited for Tuda to expel the afterbirth which she was supposed to eat. Only, when I put a few of them up to her face, did a wee bit of instinct kick in and she ate them. The other four went down the toilet. After all six kittens were birthed, did I realize, with concern, I hadn't sterilized the scissors so I dabbed each of the babies' tied off cords with alcohol. There is nothing funnier than seeing a brand new kitten hiss - they were not happy with the sting of the alcohol. When mother and children were settled and nested I took stock - the bed was a disaster - slimy and wet - I would have to purchase another mattress the next day. I finally put on some clothes and then I had a drink at three in the morning, trembling, after the fact, but proud to have risen to the occasion. Funny, dear memory.<br />
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Cutting the blog short today - two things: not feeling inspired and I think I have a virus. No, not the flu that's going around or the cold I'm just about over, a computer virus. My cursor is randomly jumping elsewhere on my document when I type and it's making me crazy. Call into my IT support - hopefully it's a quick fix. Feeling technology frustrated lately. Stuff like a new IPod that won't synch, my Outlook calendar still not synching with my Android, copier broken with a mysterious error message, and more. Grrrrr.....<br />
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No challenge today. Just stay warm.<br />
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Peace,<br />
Sarah<br />
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Picture is of a Savannah cat - thinking of getting one. They're big and funny.<br />
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<br />Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15637993954517133347noreply@blogger.com0