Looking back at 2009, I realized there were a lot of F-words that could describe the year. (No, not that F-word! It’s a G-rated column, folks.)
Before I begin the official list, I must add “frustration” to describe my attempts at a weekly blog. Maybe I’ll try monthly postings in 2010.
Frugality: It was a year of cutting back – a common story for many in this recession. I was lucky to have work for much of the time, but things were definitely tougher than they have been. I dropped some cable channels (and for a TV geek like me, that was tough!), got rid of caller ID, and considered and then re-considered almost every purchase. I’ve always thought I was a fairly cost-conscious person, but it was surprising how often I was tempted to make impulse buys or to buy things simply because they were on sale, even if I already had a shelf full. Coupons and sale ads became my new shopping companions.
Fat: My life has been a constant battle with my weight, a familiar story for many women. Over the past few years I’ve settled into a comfortable range wherein I have some treats but try to eat sensibly and get in some regular, if not strenuous, workouts. But my doctor discovered a cholesterol issue, so I have been on a low-fat, low-sugar diet for the last few months of the year. Yes, that’s right, dieting at Thanksgiving and Christmas. (Although I did consider those as “free days” so I could enjoy all the treats.) Mainly it entails reading more labels and giving more thought to dinner than which box is on top of the stack in the freezer. I have another test in January, so we’ll see if the effort has paid off.
Fear: There’s a lot of fear in my life, too often generated from within. Obviously in this recession period, there was a lot of fear about work and finances. On the positive side, it drove me to update my resume and put myself out there last summer, which led me to a great new project and new contacts. But even though I have work now, there’s that underlying, nagging worry that wasn’t there before this year: What happens when this job is finished? A few days without work is a pleasant break; a week becomes a little boring; and anything above that is frightening.
Fatigue: I complained about not having work earlier, and now I’m going to complain about too much work. (Some people are just never happy.) I went from no work to working 14-hour days and weekends for about three months. You get to a point where you’re scared to turn down anything that comes along, but you do need at least a few hours of sleep! The only thing that got me through was knowing it was a temporary situation and that there would eventually be a break. Fortunately the break came at Christmas so I was able to enjoy the holiday and even catch up on some rest. It certainly gave me more empathy for people like my niece, who’s doing a medical residency and works longer hours with a lot more stress. After all, if I miss a typo, no one is probably going to die.
Family: This has always been an important F-word to me and has become even more so as my parents get older. I can’t imagine not being able to get home – at least on the major holidays – to see them, as well as my brother and sister-in-law, and others who have become my extended family. And I can’t picture a scenario in which we would not be speaking to one another, as happens in some families. They are my safety net, my “soft place to fall,” and I don’t know what I would do without that support. Then there’s Sarah, my niece, and her husband, Anthony: I can’t wait to see what’s next in their lives! And that leads me to the final F-word:
Future: I’ve never been a big fan of change, although I’ve gotten better at accepting the inevitable changes life brings, if not embracing them. And here we are at the Big Change that comes around every 365 days. I don’t make resolutions anymore, at least not formally, but I think everyone has that secret or not-so-secret list of improvements they’d like to make with the incentive of that shiny new year just ahead. Whatever words describe your hopes and dreams, I hope you see them fulfilled in 2010. Happy New Year!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
politeness
I was at a local grocery store recently, with about 12 items in my basket. There were two lanes open and the people in them had full carts. I glanced over at the self-checkout and then recalled seeing somewhere that it should be used for 10 items or less. Now this may not have given most people pause, but I’m a rigid rule follower, so I decided to wait in line. The clerk tending the self-service area then waved me over, setting me up at one of the stations. He asked if I had done the self-checkout before and I said yes, but he proceeded to take out my items, scan them, and bag them – at a pace much faster than I manage, as well. Within minutes I was on my way.
Sure, maybe he was just bored and wanted something do to. But he certainly could have ignored me standing in the line. He also could have walked away when I told him I had done the procedure before. I can’t tell you how much this relatively simple act of helpfulness buoyed my spirits. In a city where checkers sometimes don’t even make eye contact with customers – in fact, I’ve had them carry on a conversation with someone else while moving me through – a little bit of attention goes a long way.
But it’s not just store clerks, it’s people in general who seem to have lost the human touch. Ironically, with so many new ways to communicate, people seem more wrapped up in their own little worlds than ever. The simple act of holding a door for someone; moving to one side in a crowded aisle or on a crowded sidewalk; saying “Excuse me” or “Thank you,” seem to have gone the way of rotary phones and 8-track players. I’m not talking about such antiquated notions as men holding doors for women -- but on that subject, why can’t men and women hold doors for others? (One woman in my apartment building saw me heading toward the elevator after her, but got on and didn’t hold the door for the extra 10 seconds it took me to arrive. Was she really in that much of a hurry?) And going back to the store for a moment, it works both ways: try giving the clerk a smile and a “Hello.” Maybe you’ve had a long day or a bad morning, but maybe he or she has too.
It’s bad enough that we so often have to deal with computerized systems when we call “help” lines (and yes, I use that term loosely). Have we gotten so accustomed to maneuvering through the emotionless, unfeeling world of electronics and automation that we’re losing our ability to interact with humans?
There are definitely days that being nice is a struggle: I’m not saying I’m one of those people who always has a kind word for everyone, although I do my best to keep the unkind words in my head or at least under my breath. It’s not my nature to be confrontational. I was raised not only to not rock the boat but to not even stand up in it unless it was safely docked at the pier. So I don’t usually mind being the one to step aside when the two people coming toward me don’t want to break their conversation for one to slip behind the other for a few seconds. I’ll step aside to let the businessman in a big hurry get on the bus first. I bite my tongue and bide my time waiting for the cashier to finish her conversation before she waits on me. But when a simple act of kindness can make me feel a thrill, I have to wonder: When did it become the exception rather than the rule for people to be polite?
By the way, later that day I spoke with an actual person on one of those help lines. She managed to completely erase the warm feelings from the morning. But I said “thank you” when I hung up instead of the less gracious phrases that came to mind.
LH
Sure, maybe he was just bored and wanted something do to. But he certainly could have ignored me standing in the line. He also could have walked away when I told him I had done the procedure before. I can’t tell you how much this relatively simple act of helpfulness buoyed my spirits. In a city where checkers sometimes don’t even make eye contact with customers – in fact, I’ve had them carry on a conversation with someone else while moving me through – a little bit of attention goes a long way.
But it’s not just store clerks, it’s people in general who seem to have lost the human touch. Ironically, with so many new ways to communicate, people seem more wrapped up in their own little worlds than ever. The simple act of holding a door for someone; moving to one side in a crowded aisle or on a crowded sidewalk; saying “Excuse me” or “Thank you,” seem to have gone the way of rotary phones and 8-track players. I’m not talking about such antiquated notions as men holding doors for women -- but on that subject, why can’t men and women hold doors for others? (One woman in my apartment building saw me heading toward the elevator after her, but got on and didn’t hold the door for the extra 10 seconds it took me to arrive. Was she really in that much of a hurry?) And going back to the store for a moment, it works both ways: try giving the clerk a smile and a “Hello.” Maybe you’ve had a long day or a bad morning, but maybe he or she has too.
It’s bad enough that we so often have to deal with computerized systems when we call “help” lines (and yes, I use that term loosely). Have we gotten so accustomed to maneuvering through the emotionless, unfeeling world of electronics and automation that we’re losing our ability to interact with humans?
There are definitely days that being nice is a struggle: I’m not saying I’m one of those people who always has a kind word for everyone, although I do my best to keep the unkind words in my head or at least under my breath. It’s not my nature to be confrontational. I was raised not only to not rock the boat but to not even stand up in it unless it was safely docked at the pier. So I don’t usually mind being the one to step aside when the two people coming toward me don’t want to break their conversation for one to slip behind the other for a few seconds. I’ll step aside to let the businessman in a big hurry get on the bus first. I bite my tongue and bide my time waiting for the cashier to finish her conversation before she waits on me. But when a simple act of kindness can make me feel a thrill, I have to wonder: When did it become the exception rather than the rule for people to be polite?
By the way, later that day I spoke with an actual person on one of those help lines. She managed to completely erase the warm feelings from the morning. But I said “thank you” when I hung up instead of the less gracious phrases that came to mind.
LH
Saturday, October 3, 2009
new fall shows
First of all, a hearty welcome back to my favorites, most of which have hit the ground running. Following is a list of the new (scripted) shows I’ve checked out in this young season and a few comments about each.
Monday:
Accidentally on Purpose: I’ll be honest; the premise – an apparently smart, mature single woman ends up pregnant after one-night stand with younger man – didn’t appeal to me, but I thought I’d be fair and give it a try. After one laugh-free half-hour, I don’t ever want to see these people again. Cliched, unfunny characters and a chemistry-free main relationship make it a blot in the otherwise quality comedy bloc of Monday night (although I haven’t watched 2.5 Men for a few years).
Castle (sort of new): I’m a big Nathan Fillion fan, but I wasn’t thrilled with the premiere of this show last season. However, when they toned down Castle’s cockiness and gave some dimension to Beckett and the other characters, it quickly became a favorite. A nice mixture of mystery and humor, plus a compelling personal story for Detective Beckett, played with toughness and an underlying vulnerability by Stana Katic.
Tuesday:
The Forgotten: I felt as if I’d seen a lot of the characters before and heard some of the dialogue; however, I was drawn into the mystery. Fans of Cold Case will probably enjoy this well-acted drama, even if it doesn’t really offer anything new.
The Good Wife: This show could have been a grim melodrama about the poor, betrayed wife and her struggle as a single parent, but having her go back to practicing law adds the intriguing dimension of the court cases. A great cast, including the wonderful Christine Baranski, Chris Noth, and Julianna Margulies. I was drawn in almost immediately and really liked the fact that she lost the case in the second episode (although technically, they did get the bad guy.)
Wednesday:
Hank: Frasier, please come back! This unfunny show wastes the talents of Kelsey Grammer and Melinda McGraw. It felt like the actors were put together and given lines from old sitcoms to read off to each other. Zero chemistry among all the family members.
The Middle: Hard not to compare this to Malcolm in the Middle, with similarities including the title -- But it comes off favorably. Patricia Heaton is great as the harried mom, Neil Flynn just laid-back enough as her husband to provide a nice balance; only two of the kids seem intriguingly wacky, however. The youngest boy is very funny, and the awkward teen girl had me laughing as well as feeling sorry for her. The older teen boy hasn’t really developed yet, but I will definitely give this show another try.
Modern Family: Probably the most-hyped (and perhaps deservedly so) of ABC’s new comedy lineup. Sly humor and some solid casting kept me entertained and amused, if not belly laughing. Fans of the late great Arrested Development may find this to their liking.
Cougar Town: I wasn’t sure if I would like this or be offended by it, but I was pleasantly surprised. Mostly due to Courtney Cox, who brings not just humor but a sense of vulnerability to the role. The supporting cast does a great job as well, each of them having some good moments.
Glee: This show has me puzzled. On one hand, I like that it’s not something you can pigeonhole as a comedy or drama, but on the other hand, that makes it a bit schizophrenic in its tone. Parts of it work for me: the musical numbers in particular, performed by a very talented cast; but parts of it don’t work. A couple of characters are just not funny and/or necessary, and one of the plots belongs on a daytime drama, not on a show as otherwise original as this. Still, it brings me back every week, so it’s doing something right.
Thursday:
FlashForward: I enjoy a show that tries something different, that gives me something I haven’t seen dozens of times before (i.e., Lost, Buffy, X-Files...). The premise of FlashForward is unique – whether it’s worthy of 22 episodes remains to be seen. I didn’t fall in love with the show like I thought/hoped I would, although it’s definitely a gripping hour. My worry is that it’s going to take too much time to get into its mythology and viewers are going to lose patience. And of course with any high concept show, there’s always the fear that maybe there’s nothing behind the smoke and mirrors, either.
Community: This is probably my favorite new comedy. I’ll make the Arrested Development comparison again because that show had a nearly perfect mix of silliness and darkness, often skirting the edge of inappropriate. So does Community. With a lead character who’s not only a lawyer, but a self-absorbed, lazy, sarcastic lawyer to boot, you know you’re in for something different. A fine cast, including the delightful Chevy Chase, make this sly show a winner.
Did I immediately connect with anything this season? Not really. But sometimes it’s taken a while to develop a real favorite. So for now I’m just enjoying the new and welcoming back the familiar.
LH
Monday:
Accidentally on Purpose: I’ll be honest; the premise – an apparently smart, mature single woman ends up pregnant after one-night stand with younger man – didn’t appeal to me, but I thought I’d be fair and give it a try. After one laugh-free half-hour, I don’t ever want to see these people again. Cliched, unfunny characters and a chemistry-free main relationship make it a blot in the otherwise quality comedy bloc of Monday night (although I haven’t watched 2.5 Men for a few years).
Castle (sort of new): I’m a big Nathan Fillion fan, but I wasn’t thrilled with the premiere of this show last season. However, when they toned down Castle’s cockiness and gave some dimension to Beckett and the other characters, it quickly became a favorite. A nice mixture of mystery and humor, plus a compelling personal story for Detective Beckett, played with toughness and an underlying vulnerability by Stana Katic.
Tuesday:
The Forgotten: I felt as if I’d seen a lot of the characters before and heard some of the dialogue; however, I was drawn into the mystery. Fans of Cold Case will probably enjoy this well-acted drama, even if it doesn’t really offer anything new.
The Good Wife: This show could have been a grim melodrama about the poor, betrayed wife and her struggle as a single parent, but having her go back to practicing law adds the intriguing dimension of the court cases. A great cast, including the wonderful Christine Baranski, Chris Noth, and Julianna Margulies. I was drawn in almost immediately and really liked the fact that she lost the case in the second episode (although technically, they did get the bad guy.)
Wednesday:
Hank: Frasier, please come back! This unfunny show wastes the talents of Kelsey Grammer and Melinda McGraw. It felt like the actors were put together and given lines from old sitcoms to read off to each other. Zero chemistry among all the family members.
The Middle: Hard not to compare this to Malcolm in the Middle, with similarities including the title -- But it comes off favorably. Patricia Heaton is great as the harried mom, Neil Flynn just laid-back enough as her husband to provide a nice balance; only two of the kids seem intriguingly wacky, however. The youngest boy is very funny, and the awkward teen girl had me laughing as well as feeling sorry for her. The older teen boy hasn’t really developed yet, but I will definitely give this show another try.
Modern Family: Probably the most-hyped (and perhaps deservedly so) of ABC’s new comedy lineup. Sly humor and some solid casting kept me entertained and amused, if not belly laughing. Fans of the late great Arrested Development may find this to their liking.
Cougar Town: I wasn’t sure if I would like this or be offended by it, but I was pleasantly surprised. Mostly due to Courtney Cox, who brings not just humor but a sense of vulnerability to the role. The supporting cast does a great job as well, each of them having some good moments.
Glee: This show has me puzzled. On one hand, I like that it’s not something you can pigeonhole as a comedy or drama, but on the other hand, that makes it a bit schizophrenic in its tone. Parts of it work for me: the musical numbers in particular, performed by a very talented cast; but parts of it don’t work. A couple of characters are just not funny and/or necessary, and one of the plots belongs on a daytime drama, not on a show as otherwise original as this. Still, it brings me back every week, so it’s doing something right.
Thursday:
FlashForward: I enjoy a show that tries something different, that gives me something I haven’t seen dozens of times before (i.e., Lost, Buffy, X-Files...). The premise of FlashForward is unique – whether it’s worthy of 22 episodes remains to be seen. I didn’t fall in love with the show like I thought/hoped I would, although it’s definitely a gripping hour. My worry is that it’s going to take too much time to get into its mythology and viewers are going to lose patience. And of course with any high concept show, there’s always the fear that maybe there’s nothing behind the smoke and mirrors, either.
Community: This is probably my favorite new comedy. I’ll make the Arrested Development comparison again because that show had a nearly perfect mix of silliness and darkness, often skirting the edge of inappropriate. So does Community. With a lead character who’s not only a lawyer, but a self-absorbed, lazy, sarcastic lawyer to boot, you know you’re in for something different. A fine cast, including the delightful Chevy Chase, make this sly show a winner.
Did I immediately connect with anything this season? Not really. But sometimes it’s taken a while to develop a real favorite. So for now I’m just enjoying the new and welcoming back the familiar.
LH
Saturday, September 12, 2009
fall TV
I’m a fan of fall. Some people don’t like to see the end of summer fun and warm temperatures, but I’m not much of a shorts/swimsuit girl, and anything over 70 degrees is too hot for me. So I love the cooler days, even the first few mornings and evenings with a nip in the air, requiring that long-forgotten blanket or afghan. I love the colors in the trees, the start of football season, cozy sweaters, and Brach’s mellocreme pumpkins (just about anything pumpkin, actually, and this is the one time of the year when pumpkin-flavored goodies are plentiful).
But one of my favorite things about fall is the new TV season. I’ve sometimes compared it to dating. Suitors will be knocking at the door, some new and some already old acquaintances. Many of the new arrivals will not go past the first date -- sometimes the first 15 minutes of that date. Some will require a second and maybe a third date before deciding whether to commit. Others are a case of love at first sight and hopefully the beginning of a long, satisfying relationship. But as a rule, I try not to fall too hard too fast. The ratings gods can be cruel, yanking away what seems like a perfect match without warning.
My routine with sitcoms is to give one a full half-hour: If I don’t laugh, chuckle, or even grin--or worse, if I’m offended or bored--it’s gone. If I find any of the show amusing, if something surprises me, or one of the characters is particularly interesting, I’ll give it another shot. Comedy is so subjective that it’s often hard to tell from just one episode if it’s something I’ll like.
I’ll usually watch a drama at least once. I’m less likely to give a drama a second or third try, just because it’s more of a time commitment. An hour is generally plenty of time to get an idea of the characters, pacing, and general quality. I look for an immediate hook--an opening that has me impatiently waiting through the first commercial break; an interesting or unusual premise; realistic dialogue and some glimmers of humor even in the grimmest crime drama; and characters I want to spend time with, whether or not I find all of them likable. I particularly like strong female characters, and I’ll admit that a good-looking male lead will keep me interested. But ultimately, if the writing isn’t there, even a McStudly won’t bring me back.
I watch very few reality/competition shows. The ones I like are ones where the competitors have specific skills and a passion for what they’re doing, such as Top Chef or Project Runway. I’ll very rarely check out a new reality show, but the same criteria apply: Do I care about any of these people? Does each commercial break leave me anxious to get back to the action? Can I find someone in the group to root for?
So for the next couple of weeks, love may come along with each new click of the remote. Will I find a new obsession or end up watching disks from my Netflix queue? Who knows? I’ll be providing some reviews and thoughts here, so stay tuned!
LH
But one of my favorite things about fall is the new TV season. I’ve sometimes compared it to dating. Suitors will be knocking at the door, some new and some already old acquaintances. Many of the new arrivals will not go past the first date -- sometimes the first 15 minutes of that date. Some will require a second and maybe a third date before deciding whether to commit. Others are a case of love at first sight and hopefully the beginning of a long, satisfying relationship. But as a rule, I try not to fall too hard too fast. The ratings gods can be cruel, yanking away what seems like a perfect match without warning.
My routine with sitcoms is to give one a full half-hour: If I don’t laugh, chuckle, or even grin--or worse, if I’m offended or bored--it’s gone. If I find any of the show amusing, if something surprises me, or one of the characters is particularly interesting, I’ll give it another shot. Comedy is so subjective that it’s often hard to tell from just one episode if it’s something I’ll like.
I’ll usually watch a drama at least once. I’m less likely to give a drama a second or third try, just because it’s more of a time commitment. An hour is generally plenty of time to get an idea of the characters, pacing, and general quality. I look for an immediate hook--an opening that has me impatiently waiting through the first commercial break; an interesting or unusual premise; realistic dialogue and some glimmers of humor even in the grimmest crime drama; and characters I want to spend time with, whether or not I find all of them likable. I particularly like strong female characters, and I’ll admit that a good-looking male lead will keep me interested. But ultimately, if the writing isn’t there, even a McStudly won’t bring me back.
I watch very few reality/competition shows. The ones I like are ones where the competitors have specific skills and a passion for what they’re doing, such as Top Chef or Project Runway. I’ll very rarely check out a new reality show, but the same criteria apply: Do I care about any of these people? Does each commercial break leave me anxious to get back to the action? Can I find someone in the group to root for?
So for the next couple of weeks, love may come along with each new click of the remote. Will I find a new obsession or end up watching disks from my Netflix queue? Who knows? I’ll be providing some reviews and thoughts here, so stay tuned!
LH
Sunday, September 6, 2009
What Ifs
I’m generally a very cautious person. You know the kind: the one who double- and maybe triple-checks the locks before bedtime; who pays attention during any safety lectures on public transportation; who rarely crosses a street against the light; and who never, ever runs with scissors.
Thus it was out of character for me to make a mad dash across the street, not even in the crosswalk … in the city of Chicago.
I needed to get to the train station and was running a bit later than I wanted to be (although that’s probably still a half hour before anyone else would worry). During the week there are buses every 10 minutes or so, and a couple of different routes go to the train station, but at 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday, options are more limited. If the timing was off, it could be disastrous (i.e. I’d have to spend big bucks for a cab). As I walked out of my apartment building, I saw a bus a couple of blocks away. Hurray! But I would have to get across the street and up about a block to be at the stop. Glancing both ways, it seemed safe. There was some light traffic but nothing too close at the moment, so I took off.
I’m still not sure exactly what happened -- whether I tripped on something or just stumbled over my own feet. (It could have simply been my body’s shock at the rare event of running anywhere.) The next thing I knew, I was flat on the street with the breath knocked out of me and an extremely painful lower lip. Thank goodness the drivers at that hour were paying attention, because I’m sure they had to wait a few moments for me to struggle up, grab my bags, and stagger to the opposite curb. (During rush hour I probably would have been roadkill.) As I walked, I took quick inventory: no severe pain, no bones sticking out, but palms and knees were tingling unpleasantly. There was a nasty, wet feeling on my lip and chin and when I brushed at it, my hand came away with red streaks. I got to the bus stop and fumbled for some tissues to blot my lower lip, which already felt twice its normal size.
The rest of the story is not terribly exciting. I made it to the train station in plenty of time to check the bathroom mirror and reassure myself that I would not frighten small children. The lip was painful, but I could still eat and drink with the family that weekend. About a week later, the only lingering problem is what feels like a strained muscle in my right side.
But as sometimes happens with an accident, whether big or small, we go back to the “what ifs.” What if there had been more traffic? What if I’d broken a rib, an arm, a leg? What if my glasses had flown off and broken? What if I’d left the apartment just a few moments sooner, or even later?
Sometimes I think about “what ifs” in more normal situations as well. How would my life be different if I went to the store on a Wednesday instead of a Thursday? At 4:00 instead of 5:00? … If I turned right instead of left leaving the apartment building, or didn’t even leave that day? Probably there would be no earth-shaking ramifications from any of these small decisions -- but of course, I’ll never know. What I do know is that regardless of the turns, I have few regrets about the path I’ve taken up until now. Sure, there are some things I’d do differently, but I feel like I did the best I could with what I knew at the time. For example, sometimes I wish I’d moved to Chicago sooner and started on my current career path earlier in life. But when I think back, I have to admit I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle being on my own in the big city if I’d come here at a younger age.
I think of friends I’ve met because I decided to go to a gathering or a meeting, and I wonder what friendships I may have missed by talking myself out of going to some of those events.
Of course you can drive yourself crazy with the “what ifs,” and there’s not a lot to be gained from looking back. So for now, I’ll just have to suffer through a stiff, sore side for a few weeks and focus more on where I’m going.
And wait for “Walk” signs.
LH
Thus it was out of character for me to make a mad dash across the street, not even in the crosswalk … in the city of Chicago.
I needed to get to the train station and was running a bit later than I wanted to be (although that’s probably still a half hour before anyone else would worry). During the week there are buses every 10 minutes or so, and a couple of different routes go to the train station, but at 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday, options are more limited. If the timing was off, it could be disastrous (i.e. I’d have to spend big bucks for a cab). As I walked out of my apartment building, I saw a bus a couple of blocks away. Hurray! But I would have to get across the street and up about a block to be at the stop. Glancing both ways, it seemed safe. There was some light traffic but nothing too close at the moment, so I took off.
I’m still not sure exactly what happened -- whether I tripped on something or just stumbled over my own feet. (It could have simply been my body’s shock at the rare event of running anywhere.) The next thing I knew, I was flat on the street with the breath knocked out of me and an extremely painful lower lip. Thank goodness the drivers at that hour were paying attention, because I’m sure they had to wait a few moments for me to struggle up, grab my bags, and stagger to the opposite curb. (During rush hour I probably would have been roadkill.) As I walked, I took quick inventory: no severe pain, no bones sticking out, but palms and knees were tingling unpleasantly. There was a nasty, wet feeling on my lip and chin and when I brushed at it, my hand came away with red streaks. I got to the bus stop and fumbled for some tissues to blot my lower lip, which already felt twice its normal size.
The rest of the story is not terribly exciting. I made it to the train station in plenty of time to check the bathroom mirror and reassure myself that I would not frighten small children. The lip was painful, but I could still eat and drink with the family that weekend. About a week later, the only lingering problem is what feels like a strained muscle in my right side.
But as sometimes happens with an accident, whether big or small, we go back to the “what ifs.” What if there had been more traffic? What if I’d broken a rib, an arm, a leg? What if my glasses had flown off and broken? What if I’d left the apartment just a few moments sooner, or even later?
Sometimes I think about “what ifs” in more normal situations as well. How would my life be different if I went to the store on a Wednesday instead of a Thursday? At 4:00 instead of 5:00? … If I turned right instead of left leaving the apartment building, or didn’t even leave that day? Probably there would be no earth-shaking ramifications from any of these small decisions -- but of course, I’ll never know. What I do know is that regardless of the turns, I have few regrets about the path I’ve taken up until now. Sure, there are some things I’d do differently, but I feel like I did the best I could with what I knew at the time. For example, sometimes I wish I’d moved to Chicago sooner and started on my current career path earlier in life. But when I think back, I have to admit I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle being on my own in the big city if I’d come here at a younger age.
I think of friends I’ve met because I decided to go to a gathering or a meeting, and I wonder what friendships I may have missed by talking myself out of going to some of those events.
Of course you can drive yourself crazy with the “what ifs,” and there’s not a lot to be gained from looking back. So for now, I’ll just have to suffer through a stiff, sore side for a few weeks and focus more on where I’m going.
And wait for “Walk” signs.
LH
Sunday, August 30, 2009
growing older
My brother just celebrated one of those milestone birthdays: his 60th. I still can’t quite believe I have a brother that age, or that next year will be my big milestone: 50. (Even as I write that, the inner child in me is throwing herself down on the rug and having a tantrum: “I don’t wanna grow up and you can’t make me!”)
At some point I started dreading, rather than celebrating, my birthday. I’d like to get back that sense of joyous anticipation I had when I couldn’t wait to be 6 or 10 or 18 or 21. Even my 30th, the one that so many women in particular seem to dread, was a pretty happy birthday. However, the following year, when I was suddenly “over 30,” may have been the start of the Great Birthday Avoidance.
I guess part of the problem is that I don’t feel much older than 30 mentally. Many of my friends are in their late 30s, and I don’t have much interest in the topics grown-ups tend to discuss, like mortgages, saving for the kids’ education, house renovations . . . so when I catch an unexpected glimpse of myself in a mirror or a reflection in a store window, I’m startled to see that middle-aged stranger staring back at me when I still feel like a kid much of the time (other than a few new aches and pains that tell me my body is moving forward whether the rest of me follows or not).
Of course, when I complain about getting old, my mother retorts, “If you think you’re old, imagine how I feel, having a daughter your age.” Good point. I hope I can age with the health and good attitude she has. I’m certainly struggling with the attitude.
I asked my brother, half-jokingly, if he felt old, and his immediate reply was “Nope.” He still has a boyish enthusiasm for playing with his two mini dachshunds, golfing, fishing, cooking, and life in general. I tried to look at him objectively a few times over the weekend, to see a 60-year-old man instead of my brother, but I couldn’t. I wonder if he still sees me as his kid sister, albeit maybe slightly less annoying now.
I suppose part of the fear of getting older are the inevitable losses. My eyesight has been going downhill for years -- reading for a living will do that. I’ve noticed a few physical things that are tougher for me to do now, and the groans and sighs that I sometimes make getting up or sitting down are becoming more frequent. Those occasional memory lapses -- I’ve already taken to grabbing pen and paper if anyone starts to tell me something that seems remotely important -- are still more annoying than scary. But each time I have to grope for a name or a detail, it makes me wonder: Is this the beginning of the mental decline?
When I hear Mom talk about so many friends and relatives of her generation who are gone, I know that I’ll be facing some serious losses in my life sooner now, rather than in the far distant future. (Granted, I could walk out the door tomorrow and be hit by a bus, and all this anxiety would be for naught -- but then again, deep inside, don’t we all figure we’re going to live to be at least in the 90s and die peacefully in our sleep?)
Of course, all this anxiety really is for naught, since there’s not a lot I can do about getting older. I’m not one of those who’s going to go the botox route or invest in a lot of those anti-aging creams. (My oil-prone skin, the bane of my teen/college years, has at least been a blessing in keeping me from too many wrinkles.) But I’m trying to eat better, do regular workouts, and I’m going to start going to the doctor more often. . . . Honest. Although more and more, when I’m at the doctor, the dentist, the optometrist, I hear “Well, at your age --” and I know there’s going to be another little bump on that life journey. On the other hand, maybe I should try to focus a little more on enjoying the journey and less on dreading the final stop.
LH
At some point I started dreading, rather than celebrating, my birthday. I’d like to get back that sense of joyous anticipation I had when I couldn’t wait to be 6 or 10 or 18 or 21. Even my 30th, the one that so many women in particular seem to dread, was a pretty happy birthday. However, the following year, when I was suddenly “over 30,” may have been the start of the Great Birthday Avoidance.
I guess part of the problem is that I don’t feel much older than 30 mentally. Many of my friends are in their late 30s, and I don’t have much interest in the topics grown-ups tend to discuss, like mortgages, saving for the kids’ education, house renovations . . . so when I catch an unexpected glimpse of myself in a mirror or a reflection in a store window, I’m startled to see that middle-aged stranger staring back at me when I still feel like a kid much of the time (other than a few new aches and pains that tell me my body is moving forward whether the rest of me follows or not).
Of course, when I complain about getting old, my mother retorts, “If you think you’re old, imagine how I feel, having a daughter your age.” Good point. I hope I can age with the health and good attitude she has. I’m certainly struggling with the attitude.
I asked my brother, half-jokingly, if he felt old, and his immediate reply was “Nope.” He still has a boyish enthusiasm for playing with his two mini dachshunds, golfing, fishing, cooking, and life in general. I tried to look at him objectively a few times over the weekend, to see a 60-year-old man instead of my brother, but I couldn’t. I wonder if he still sees me as his kid sister, albeit maybe slightly less annoying now.
I suppose part of the fear of getting older are the inevitable losses. My eyesight has been going downhill for years -- reading for a living will do that. I’ve noticed a few physical things that are tougher for me to do now, and the groans and sighs that I sometimes make getting up or sitting down are becoming more frequent. Those occasional memory lapses -- I’ve already taken to grabbing pen and paper if anyone starts to tell me something that seems remotely important -- are still more annoying than scary. But each time I have to grope for a name or a detail, it makes me wonder: Is this the beginning of the mental decline?
When I hear Mom talk about so many friends and relatives of her generation who are gone, I know that I’ll be facing some serious losses in my life sooner now, rather than in the far distant future. (Granted, I could walk out the door tomorrow and be hit by a bus, and all this anxiety would be for naught -- but then again, deep inside, don’t we all figure we’re going to live to be at least in the 90s and die peacefully in our sleep?)
Of course, all this anxiety really is for naught, since there’s not a lot I can do about getting older. I’m not one of those who’s going to go the botox route or invest in a lot of those anti-aging creams. (My oil-prone skin, the bane of my teen/college years, has at least been a blessing in keeping me from too many wrinkles.) But I’m trying to eat better, do regular workouts, and I’m going to start going to the doctor more often. . . . Honest. Although more and more, when I’m at the doctor, the dentist, the optometrist, I hear “Well, at your age --” and I know there’s going to be another little bump on that life journey. On the other hand, maybe I should try to focus a little more on enjoying the journey and less on dreading the final stop.
LH
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Freelance Life
There’ll probably be more than one entry on the freelance life since it’s … well, my life, for nearly 10 years now. Like any job, it has its good and bad points, but overall, I wouldn’t go back to a regular 9 to 5.
If you’re a social person, freelancing may not be for you. Some days the only person I talk to is the doorman in my apartment building when I go to get the mail. And occasionally I don’t even get downstairs to do that. It can be a solitary life working from home, but I’ve always enjoyed being by myself.
A few general perks:
Working in sweats, T-shirts, shorts… Basically whatever’s clean. No shoes, no makeup, no putting on gloves, hat, scarf, coat, boots in the winter. (Yes, there are times I stand at my window on a snowy, blowy Monday morning and give a superior smile to the huddled masses waiting for the bus.)
You can adjust the thermostat to the temperature YOU want, and there’s always good coffee in the break room.
No managers hover over your shoulder. If you don’t have enough work to keep you busy, you don’t have to sit at your desk and hope you don’t get caught playing Free Cell.
Want to leave at 3:00? Go ahead. No paperwork, no permission needed.
On the other hand, if you like weekends and holidays off and a predictable schedule, you may not be cut out for freelancing. I often have more than one project going, which generally means working in the evenings and on the weekends. I’ve been known to work on Christmas and other major holidays. However, I can do grocery shopping and run errands on weekdays instead of having to wait until the weekend when places are crowded.
Some of my friends have said they admire my discipline in working from home. They claim they could never get up and start working in the morning. Being lazy was never really an option for me if I wanted to eat and pay rent! Besides, there’s really not that much discipline involved when you do something you love. Not to say that every day I wake up and dance down the hall to start working, but for the most part—unless I get a huge inheritance from some mysterious rich relative—I’m happy doing what I do.
LH
If you’re a social person, freelancing may not be for you. Some days the only person I talk to is the doorman in my apartment building when I go to get the mail. And occasionally I don’t even get downstairs to do that. It can be a solitary life working from home, but I’ve always enjoyed being by myself.
A few general perks:
Working in sweats, T-shirts, shorts… Basically whatever’s clean. No shoes, no makeup, no putting on gloves, hat, scarf, coat, boots in the winter. (Yes, there are times I stand at my window on a snowy, blowy Monday morning and give a superior smile to the huddled masses waiting for the bus.)
You can adjust the thermostat to the temperature YOU want, and there’s always good coffee in the break room.
No managers hover over your shoulder. If you don’t have enough work to keep you busy, you don’t have to sit at your desk and hope you don’t get caught playing Free Cell.
Want to leave at 3:00? Go ahead. No paperwork, no permission needed.
On the other hand, if you like weekends and holidays off and a predictable schedule, you may not be cut out for freelancing. I often have more than one project going, which generally means working in the evenings and on the weekends. I’ve been known to work on Christmas and other major holidays. However, I can do grocery shopping and run errands on weekdays instead of having to wait until the weekend when places are crowded.
Some of my friends have said they admire my discipline in working from home. They claim they could never get up and start working in the morning. Being lazy was never really an option for me if I wanted to eat and pay rent! Besides, there’s really not that much discipline involved when you do something you love. Not to say that every day I wake up and dance down the hall to start working, but for the most part—unless I get a huge inheritance from some mysterious rich relative—I’m happy doing what I do.
LH
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