Zane: Mommy, can I get the Fall Out Boy album?
Me: Probably. Keep your room clean, be a good boy at school and home, and we'll talk.
Zane: Sweet! Um, Mommy...how do you play an album? Do you like hook it up to the tv or something?
Man I feel old.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Smile and nod, boys...just smile and nod
Have you ever been talking with someone and thinking, "This person is nice. We could be friends" and then they say something that makes you cock your head to one side and go, "Say wha???" At this point you think, I cannot believe they just said that! This person is a weirdo! Just smile and nod and start to back away slowly...
I'm a pretty open-minded person but I am still sometimes shocked by what people will share with strangers (I won't even get into some of the convos I'd had with patients in the ER!) For example, I recently received a friend request on FB. I didn't recognize the woman's name (who shall remain nameless here) so I clicked on her profile to see if something jogged my memory. Her photo didn't look familiar - she was about my age, short hair, big smile...looked normal (cue ominous music.) Turns out she went to my high school but graduated a year after me. Nothing rang a bell but I saw we had several friends in common (again, all from high school.) I was considering accepting her request until I read the blurb under her photo. It said:
"I have been given a full life w/ a supportive husband, loving children, and wonderfully close friends. I have the opportunity to conduct research that will hopefully make a difference someday. I sell sex toys! What more could I ask for?"
Say wha??? Okaaaay. Smile and nod...and slowly back away. Same thing happened to a friend of mine recently. She was on a first date when he started talking about an ex-girlfriend of his who was very...sexual. (First off, this is a no-no topic on a date. But it's pretty bad when this isn't even the "smile and nod" part!) Then he said, "I'm serious. She was always all over me. In fact, she said her husband wanted her to get her sexual aggressions out on other men. He didn't even mind if we did it while he was in the house!"
Say wha???? That's when she smiled, nodded, slammed her drink...and backed away.
I know, I know. It's tough being the normal one, right? All these people I look at and think, "What is going on in their head that they would say that???" Oh well. I've gotten used to it. In fact, I've gotten so good at it that I don't even think people realize I'm planning a quick escape in my head as they're talking about the boil on their butt. *sigh*
Wait. Why are you smiling? Stop nodding! COME BACK!!!!!!!!
I'm a pretty open-minded person but I am still sometimes shocked by what people will share with strangers (I won't even get into some of the convos I'd had with patients in the ER!) For example, I recently received a friend request on FB. I didn't recognize the woman's name (who shall remain nameless here) so I clicked on her profile to see if something jogged my memory. Her photo didn't look familiar - she was about my age, short hair, big smile...looked normal (cue ominous music.) Turns out she went to my high school but graduated a year after me. Nothing rang a bell but I saw we had several friends in common (again, all from high school.) I was considering accepting her request until I read the blurb under her photo. It said:
"I have been given a full life w/ a supportive husband, loving children, and wonderfully close friends. I have the opportunity to conduct research that will hopefully make a difference someday. I sell sex toys! What more could I ask for?"
Say wha??? Okaaaay. Smile and nod...and slowly back away. Same thing happened to a friend of mine recently. She was on a first date when he started talking about an ex-girlfriend of his who was very...sexual. (First off, this is a no-no topic on a date. But it's pretty bad when this isn't even the "smile and nod" part!) Then he said, "I'm serious. She was always all over me. In fact, she said her husband wanted her to get her sexual aggressions out on other men. He didn't even mind if we did it while he was in the house!"
Say wha???? That's when she smiled, nodded, slammed her drink...and backed away.
I know, I know. It's tough being the normal one, right? All these people I look at and think, "What is going on in their head that they would say that???" Oh well. I've gotten used to it. In fact, I've gotten so good at it that I don't even think people realize I'm planning a quick escape in my head as they're talking about the boil on their butt. *sigh*
Wait. Why are you smiling? Stop nodding! COME BACK!!!!!!!!
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Sunday, April 19, 2009
Dirty Little Secrets
Everyone has at least one dirty little secret. I partook in one last night.
My sleep patterns are about as screwy as my Pekin-based mother's side of the family. I usually wake around 2 or 3 am for one reason or another. I did it again last night, and I did something that helps me fall asleep. Did I drink? Nope (I know..shocking...but my house was dry.) Smoke a little doobage? (Not since college.) Order porn from On Demand? Nuh uh. My dirty little secret is......
My sleep patterns are about as screwy as my Pekin-based mother's side of the family. I usually wake around 2 or 3 am for one reason or another. I did it again last night, and I did something that helps me fall asleep. Did I drink? Nope (I know..shocking...but my house was dry.) Smoke a little doobage? (Not since college.) Order porn from On Demand? Nuh uh. My dirty little secret is......
I watch Tom and Jerry cartoons.
That's right. I like to wrap up in a blanket, lie on the couch, and watch Tom and Jerry. There's something comforting about watching that schmuck Tom be continually terrorized and beaten by little Jerry. Plus the episodes were created in the 60s-so the term "politically correct" wasn't even in vocab. Case in point: Last night's episode had Jerry and his mouse friend tormenting a sleeping Tom (of course...) Jerry snuck down the fireplace and placed a handgun in Tom's hand, pointed it toward his head, pulled the trigger, and ran. Pan camera to Tom, who had a smoking reverse mohawk in the middle of his head. LOVE IT!
I'm surprised Tipper Gore hasn't pulled all those good ol' violent cartoons from the 60s and 70s...hope it never happens. We were raised on this garbage, and we turned out okay (well....a matter of opinion for some.) I mean, how else would I lull myself back to sleep if I didn't have politically incorrect animated violence? I'd probably start having dreams of me whacking Tipper with a frying pan until her face is flat...or shooting a 
cannonball into her mouth and watch it travel through her body until it sticks out in her butt.
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Thursday, April 16, 2009
Flying is for the Birds
I hate flying. Seriously, I would rather cut off my arms and legs and be a flopping bloody torso than fly. It's not that I've never tried it - I first flew when I was 5 months old. I've flown my whole life.
I tend to overanalyze everything so I tried to figure out why I hated flying. I'm not afraid of heights...nor of tight spaces. I think it's my aversion to falling 30,000 feet to my death. That and my distaste for terrorists (both domestic and foreign.)
I think it started when I was 9 years old. I was visiting my dad in California, and there was a huge thunderstorm during my flight home. The lights flickered in the cabin, and we were all over the night sky. I was petrified. We made it home safely but it left a terrified scar in my mind. As I look back, I realize that every time I flew after that incident I became more and more nervous.
Fast forward to high school. We were booked on a cruise and had to fly to Miami. I was of course petrified (side note: did my mother not know of sedatives???) so I visited a hypnotherapist who swore he could get me over my fear of flying. He "put me under" and instructed that when I was on the plane, I should touch my index fingers to my thumbs and then slowly separate them while exhaling slowly. It would relax me and remind me that I am not afraid to fly. He made a tape of the session, and I listened to it religiously.
The day finally came for us to leave for our dream cruise. As we sat on the runway, with the engines gearing up for takeoff, I closed my eyes and touched my index fingers to my thumbs. I exhaled and separated them and...nothing happened. My eyes flew open, and I started to panic. I tried it again...BUT NOTHING HAPPENED. As we taxied down the runway, I yelled to my mom who was sitting two seats up across the aisle, "MOTHER! IT'S NOT WORKING!!!" I displayed the opening and closing of my finger and thumb to show her it wasn't working. (If this had happened today, they probably would have aborted the takeoff and escorted me off the flight. I was quite...agitated.) But there was nothing I could do at that point. We lifted off...and I survived. We made it to Miami with my psyche barely intact.
We were having a FAB-TASTIC time on the cruise until...an airplane crashed. Yep. United Airlines Flight 232 cartwheeled onto the tarmac in Sioux City, Iowa. My mother turned from the television, took one look at me, and headed for the bar...where I think she stayed for the remainder of the trip.
We made it back home - though the flight was a blur (I think I've blocked it out?) I vaguely remember my mother pulling me through the St. Louis airport trying to catch our flight back to Peoria (again Ma...sedatives???)
Didn't really book any more trips after that. A few years later, I took the train to my aunt's house in Big Bear Lake, CA, for Thanksgiving. Her road ends at Snow Summit's parking lot - it's so fab. My cousin, Sarah, and I decided to go skiing. There hadn't been much snow so they had to make it - and only had an intermediate slope open (I'm a bunny slope kind of girl.) I didn't care - I was game. So we got on the ski lift to ride to the top of the mountain (btw, what a view! Just breathtaking...) I saw the bunny slope pass on my left. As we climbed higher, the ground suddenly dropped beneath us. That's when I knew.
"Sarah?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I know why I hate to fly."
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"Um..apparently I'm deathly afraid of being SUSPENDED IN MID-AIR!"
"Oh. Okay. Well, this is a good time to discover that, I guess."
That was it. I realized at that moment that I don't like to be suspended over...nothing. It makes perfect sense...I was afraid of bridges when I was young. In fact, the elevated walkway from the parking deck at Caterpillar used to give me the heebie-jeebies if I thought about it too much!
Now that I know my fear, I can begin to conquer it. I truly would like to fly again someday...and I will. It's just that first step that's so hard. But I have faith in myself that I will conquer my fear and get on an airplane someday soon.
Sedated, of course.
I tend to overanalyze everything so I tried to figure out why I hated flying. I'm not afraid of heights...nor of tight spaces. I think it's my aversion to falling 30,000 feet to my death. That and my distaste for terrorists (both domestic and foreign.)
I think it started when I was 9 years old. I was visiting my dad in California, and there was a huge thunderstorm during my flight home. The lights flickered in the cabin, and we were all over the night sky. I was petrified. We made it home safely but it left a terrified scar in my mind. As I look back, I realize that every time I flew after that incident I became more and more nervous.
Fast forward to high school. We were booked on a cruise and had to fly to Miami. I was of course petrified (side note: did my mother not know of sedatives???) so I visited a hypnotherapist who swore he could get me over my fear of flying. He "put me under" and instructed that when I was on the plane, I should touch my index fingers to my thumbs and then slowly separate them while exhaling slowly. It would relax me and remind me that I am not afraid to fly. He made a tape of the session, and I listened to it religiously.
The day finally came for us to leave for our dream cruise. As we sat on the runway, with the engines gearing up for takeoff, I closed my eyes and touched my index fingers to my thumbs. I exhaled and separated them and...nothing happened. My eyes flew open, and I started to panic. I tried it again...BUT NOTHING HAPPENED. As we taxied down the runway, I yelled to my mom who was sitting two seats up across the aisle, "MOTHER! IT'S NOT WORKING!!!" I displayed the opening and closing of my finger and thumb to show her it wasn't working. (If this had happened today, they probably would have aborted the takeoff and escorted me off the flight. I was quite...agitated.) But there was nothing I could do at that point. We lifted off...and I survived. We made it to Miami with my psyche barely intact.
We were having a FAB-TASTIC time on the cruise until...an airplane crashed. Yep. United Airlines Flight 232 cartwheeled onto the tarmac in Sioux City, Iowa. My mother turned from the television, took one look at me, and headed for the bar...where I think she stayed for the remainder of the trip.
We made it back home - though the flight was a blur (I think I've blocked it out?) I vaguely remember my mother pulling me through the St. Louis airport trying to catch our flight back to Peoria (again Ma...sedatives???)
Didn't really book any more trips after that. A few years later, I took the train to my aunt's house in Big Bear Lake, CA, for Thanksgiving. Her road ends at Snow Summit's parking lot - it's so fab. My cousin, Sarah, and I decided to go skiing. There hadn't been much snow so they had to make it - and only had an intermediate slope open (I'm a bunny slope kind of girl.) I didn't care - I was game. So we got on the ski lift to ride to the top of the mountain (btw, what a view! Just breathtaking...) I saw the bunny slope pass on my left. As we climbed higher, the ground suddenly dropped beneath us. That's when I knew.
"Sarah?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I know why I hate to fly."
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"Um..apparently I'm deathly afraid of being SUSPENDED IN MID-AIR!"
"Oh. Okay. Well, this is a good time to discover that, I guess."
That was it. I realized at that moment that I don't like to be suspended over...nothing. It makes perfect sense...I was afraid of bridges when I was young. In fact, the elevated walkway from the parking deck at Caterpillar used to give me the heebie-jeebies if I thought about it too much!
Now that I know my fear, I can begin to conquer it. I truly would like to fly again someday...and I will. It's just that first step that's so hard. But I have faith in myself that I will conquer my fear and get on an airplane someday soon.
Sedated, of course.
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My Foray into Buddhism
When I was 19 years old, I was in my sister's wedding in Santa Rosa, CA. The morning my mom and I headed back to glorious Illinois, we had to catch a 5 a.m. shuttle at a hotel. For some reason, I was panicky. I'd recently developed some problems with panic attacks but thought I had put that behind me. It was still dark, the area was spooky, and we were waiting for Jose Blow to pick us up in a van. I wasn't calm.
There was a family nearby also waiting for the shuttle. They were on their way to Yosemite for a long weekend of hiking and communing with nature. The mom was Asian, the three children were young, and the dad was a white guy - and resembled a hippie...but in preppy clothing. Apparently my nervousness was noticeable to him (could it have been me sucking my thumb and talking to myself in the third person???) because he stopped me and said, "Wow...you are really wound up. Have you ever tried meditating?" I never forgot his words. When I returned to Illinois, I got books on meditation but - did I mention I returned to Illinois? Needless to say, there weren't too many meditation resources advertised in the ol' Peoria area. My books didn't exactly inspire me, and I fell asleep twice while meditating. So of course I quit.
Fast forward to now. Can't remember what planted the seed in my head (perhaps repressed memories of my Yosemite hippie?) but I decided to Google meditation - which led me to Buddhism. Wikipedia (which is the GOD'S HONEST TRUTH DAMMIT!) said the reason many people have such a misconception about Buddhism is because Buddhists don't go around preaching their beliefs and trying to save people. They are happy to teach someone who requests information but you won't see them in the airport, handing out flowers. The more I read, the more I liked. For those who have not been laid off and therefore don't have a sh*tload of time on their hands, let me explain Buddhism in a nutshell: It's all about being good to others while trying to calm your mind - because the mind is a powerful creator of stress in our lives. Ever wonder how some people freak out at the littlest thing and others can handle the world? All in the mind bbs.
I decided to tell my mom about my Buddhism exploration. There was no way she'd be supportive - so pray tell why would I tell her? Just for sh*ts and giggles. She's from Pekin. Her mind is about as open as a...okay, I can't even come up with an analogy because she is so closed minded. Anyway, I told her. At first, she was silent. Then she said, "Don't they worship that fat guy?" I explained to her they don't worship Buddha - they pay homage to him for relaying his teachings. She was still quiet so I asked, "You're afraid I'm going to shave my head and blow up airplanes, aren't you?"
"REGAN!!!"
I let her read a few passages in my Buddhism for Dummies book (yes, I said it. I have a few books written by the Dalai Lama and they are a little over my head right now. The Buddhism for Dummies book is quite good....) She's more open to the idea of Buddhism now but made me promise I wouldn't start worshipping fat men.
Unless of course they're rich.
There was a family nearby also waiting for the shuttle. They were on their way to Yosemite for a long weekend of hiking and communing with nature. The mom was Asian, the three children were young, and the dad was a white guy - and resembled a hippie...but in preppy clothing. Apparently my nervousness was noticeable to him (could it have been me sucking my thumb and talking to myself in the third person???) because he stopped me and said, "Wow...you are really wound up. Have you ever tried meditating?" I never forgot his words. When I returned to Illinois, I got books on meditation but - did I mention I returned to Illinois? Needless to say, there weren't too many meditation resources advertised in the ol' Peoria area. My books didn't exactly inspire me, and I fell asleep twice while meditating. So of course I quit.
Fast forward to now. Can't remember what planted the seed in my head (perhaps repressed memories of my Yosemite hippie?) but I decided to Google meditation - which led me to Buddhism. Wikipedia (which is the GOD'S HONEST TRUTH DAMMIT!) said the reason many people have such a misconception about Buddhism is because Buddhists don't go around preaching their beliefs and trying to save people. They are happy to teach someone who requests information but you won't see them in the airport, handing out flowers. The more I read, the more I liked. For those who have not been laid off and therefore don't have a sh*tload of time on their hands, let me explain Buddhism in a nutshell: It's all about being good to others while trying to calm your mind - because the mind is a powerful creator of stress in our lives. Ever wonder how some people freak out at the littlest thing and others can handle the world? All in the mind bbs.
I decided to tell my mom about my Buddhism exploration. There was no way she'd be supportive - so pray tell why would I tell her? Just for sh*ts and giggles. She's from Pekin. Her mind is about as open as a...okay, I can't even come up with an analogy because she is so closed minded. Anyway, I told her. At first, she was silent. Then she said, "Don't they worship that fat guy?" I explained to her they don't worship Buddha - they pay homage to him for relaying his teachings. She was still quiet so I asked, "You're afraid I'm going to shave my head and blow up airplanes, aren't you?"
"REGAN!!!"
I let her read a few passages in my Buddhism for Dummies book (yes, I said it. I have a few books written by the Dalai Lama and they are a little over my head right now. The Buddhism for Dummies book is quite good....) She's more open to the idea of Buddhism now but made me promise I wouldn't start worshipping fat men.
Unless of course they're rich.
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