bad days

By 10:00 this morning I was basically called an idiot by someone at a bank that had no idea what she was talking about and another person, whom I have no professional obligation to whatsoever, told me that someone was going to get sued and it would be my fault.  My day only went downhill from there.  At 5:00, however, it was over.  I did what I could do and what couldn’t get done was out of my hands.  I sloughed off the dried husk of the day, got in my car and drove home.  And that’s it. 

It’s over.  Bad days happen.  But I know that I’ll have a lot more good days than bad.  And that’s why I was smiling today at 5:00 when the office door clicked closed behind me.

judgement day

It’s always interesting when someone I’ve known for a while sees my tattoos for the first time.  This situation usually involves a co-worker.  When I am dressed for the office, you can’t see any of my tattoos except maybe a glimpse of the space ship on my calf when I cross my legs or a couple of stars on my right shoulder if my shirt has a wide collar.  Unless I’ve mentioned them, which I don’t unless asked directly, then you probably don’t know I have them.  Just like I don’t know if you have a birthmark shaped like the state of Indiana on your left butt-cheek.  It’s not the kind of thing you just blurt out in conversation cause you’ll get the “ew, too much information” stare.  Unless you’re drunk, then all bets are off. 

When an office-mate sees one of my tattoos for the first time, or even just learns that I have tattoos, I can actually see the preconceived notions they’ve formed about me crumble and new, more than likely innaccurate, notions take shape.  Amy + tattoos is not equal to just the variable Amy.  To me, tattoos neither add nor subtract anything to my equation, while to others they could be a negative 15 or a positive 5.  (Look at the English major bustin’ out the math analogy!)  Either way, they judged me when they first met me and now they are judging me all over again. 

How do I know they judged me?  Well the short answer is: cause they are human.  We all do it, we can’t help it.  It’s a trait that evolved so we could instantly tell friend from foe, a tribe we wanted to mate with, and a tribe we didn’t.  When we hear someone with a thick southern accent, we think they’re ignorant.  When we see a balding man in a convertible sports car we assume mid-life crisis.  Yes, I know, “judge not, lest ye be judged.”  But, it’s not the judging itself that is wrong.  What’s wrong is when we think our judgements are true, when our judgements are set in stone.  We don’t know anything about another person except what they tell us, and even that could be a lie.  You can assume what you want, but you also must also be prepared to be surprised. 

So, either my tattoos conflict with your vision of me or they confirm what you always thought.  Either way, it’s just a fraction of who I really am.

The Long Commute

She is hours late heading for home.  Hours at work unpaid and unappreciated, only suffered through to make Friday bearable.  There is one reward, the highway is nearly deserted, the clot of cars long past through the veins of the city. 

Blazing blood-orange sunset in her rear-view, she presses the pedal down and guides the Toyota between the dotted white lines.  She made a promise to herself long ago to leave work at work and uses her commute to clear her mind.  Her internal street sweeper was not selective; all worries ended up in the gutter to be washed out to sea.  Responsibilities present and future become a mere blur in her periphery, inconsequential as mile markers.  All that exists is the highway, the car and her will to move it forward.  

The asphalt churns beneath the tires like cogs in the great machinery of time.  Her vision tunnels as she focuses on the horizon and eases the pedal lower.  The hum of the tires grows choppy and the suspension compensates as the smooth blacktop becomes ridged and is overtaken by cobblestones.  On either side of the road, great stands of pines spring forth like tidal waves, drowning overpasses and billboards before breaking along the shore of the road.  Towering trunks with needled branches that scrape the sky.  

She nudges the gas, the cobblestones give way to cart path, dirt track and animal trail.  Lush ferns and palms choke out the pines and edge in so close they slap against the windows and pluck at her antenna.  The Toyota lumbers over the mossy terrain as insects the size of her fist engage in a losing battle with her windshield.  She twists on the wipers to whisk their carcasses away.  

The vegetation falls back and she is now charging through a clearing, tall grass thrashing the undercarriage.  A wide river cuts a course to the south, Brontosaurs grazing at the swampy banks.  She rolls down the window and fills her lungs with humid air, extends her arm and dances her fingers in the buffeting breeze.  To the north, she hears a low bellow and the Brontosaurs raise their massive heads on necks thick as bridge cables to answer the call in unison.  

Rolling hills spread before her where the grasses thin out and hard-packed sand takes over.  Shimmering through the heat in the distance are the mountains, jutting out of the earth like the spine of creation, dark and red as copper.  She knows that if she ever makes it to those mountains, she will be lost to the world forever, nothing more than an artifact.  

There is a rumbling from the cup-holder.  She reaches for the cell phone, her husband’s name displayed on the screen.  Cresting the hill she sees her exit about a mile ahead.  Smiling, she answers the phone.

vacation, all I ever wanted

One year ago, I was at a resort in the Dominican Republic having the most wonderful time imaginable.  This year, my summer vacation isn’t quite so extravagant, but I am looking forward to it none the less.  In a few weeks my husband, pups and I will load up the Matrix and head down to visit my mom in Destin for July 4th. 

White sugar sand, warm salty breezes, diving under the waves and the roar of breaking surf, short sudden storms that leave the air smelling electric, swim-suits thrown over lawn chairs to dry in the sun, pink shoulders, sun freckles across my nose, SPF 30 and aloe, tacky beach shops along the strip, free hermit crabs, henna tattoos, hair pulled back, sunglasses on, flip-flops 24/7 even at dinner, frozen drinks on weather-worn decks, fresh oysters, shrimp, grouper, amberjack, red snapper, wedges of lemons picked from mom’s trees, laughter between bites, everyone talking over each other, raising our glasses to the chef, walks along the docks at sunset, gulls and pelicans perched on pylons, boats straining against ropes as thick as my wrist, dolphins playing in the bay, craning our necks to watch the fireworks from the deck of the sailboat, music echoing out across the water and champagne on the beach at midnight. 

Another thing I love about beach vacations is being able to live out of a suitcase.  Life is pared down to the basics, the essentials, nothing extraneous to weigh me down.  I pack all my favorite clothes, the ones that fit the best or are the most comfortable.  I bring my cutest pajamas, two favorite swim-suits and three pairs of shoes to go with everything.  I have only one eyeliner, one eyeshadow, mascara and SPF 30 moisturizer.  Then throw in my hairdryer, a couple of books, my journal and a pen.  I take my small travel purse and empty my wallet of everything except license, debit card and health insurance card.  That’s all I need and it is liberating.  I like not having to sort through a closet full of clothes to find the one shirt that I really want.  When I’m on vacation, that shirt and the four others I love are all I have to choose from.  It’s like going to a restaurant that only has grilled salmon on the menu and you love grilled salmon. 

That’s the kind of vacation I want: I don’t have to make any decisions, but if I do, they are obvious.

i think it’s time we see other people

I love you, Google, you know I do.  We’ve been through a lot together and you will always be my go-to guy when I need an answer to some obscure question or the lyrics to a song I want to rip apart.  However, there’s a new guy that’s been courting my affections and I have to admit that I’m intrigued.  No, he’s not as experienced as you and he still has a lot to learn, but that will come with time.  He does have one trait that you lack - he is direct.  Life is short.  I don’t always have time to search through the thousands of links that you say will answer my question.  Sometimes I just want the answer, dammit, without playing any games!  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to yell.  None of this is your fault.  Sometimes a girl just needs more options.  Besides, he really seems to “get” me, you know?

I mean, I could really fall for this guy!  And, I want to introduce him to all my friends.  I think they will really like WolframAlpha (or Wolfie, as I like to call him) once they get to know him.

a beginning and an end

The reigning theory of the origin of the universe, what we now call the Big Bang, was proposed by George Lemaitre,  a scientist who also happened to be a Roman Catholic priest.  Yes, science and religion do not have to be mutually exclusive, however having an open mind probably helps.   

The only serious counter-theory to the Big Bang was the Steady State theory proposed by Fred Hoyle.  Hoyle was a atheist before he started his research on the origins of the universe.  He calculated the statistically improbable nature of life and saw God in the details, however he only went so far as to align himself with Agnostic Deists.  Incidentally, it was Hoyle who coined the term “Big Bang” on a British ratio program. 

The Big Bang posits that the universe started at one finite point in the past with a massive explosion in which matter expanded out in all directions and is still expanding today.  One side effect of all this expansion is that one day it will go as far as is possible and then it will start to collapse into itself again.  What starts with a bang will end with a crush.  And that’s the point: it will end. 

That’s why Hoyle’s Steady State theory, although proven wrong, is a much more appealing, romantic notion.  In a Steady State universe, there is no finite beginning and that means there is no end, either.  New matter is constantly created to fill the gaps in an expanding universe.  Things change, but they also, as a whole, remain the same.  The universe will always be there. 

For someone who is concerned about the Sun going supernova in about 5 million years and swallowing the Earth, this is a comforting thought. 

This is all just endlessly fascinating to me.  There is so much that we still don’t know.  With every new discovery I can’t help but wonder if we are closer to viewing the face of God or erasing it all together.  Either way, I hope we are smart enough to know it when we see it.

whoo to the hoo

I can now post to my blog via email or text message from my phone (good thing I finally got a texting plan!). Just another wonderful, new way to waste time at work or while waiting in line or while pretending to listen to someone drone on about their day (no, not you, another person, you don’t know them).

Oh, if you notice that a few of my past posts have disappeared, it’s not your imagination (the fuzzy bunny telling you to give your boss the finger, is your imagination). I am taking some of the little stories I’ve posted here, polishing them up and submitting them to various websites for publication. Yep, that was the whole goal, wasn’t it? To get my ass in gear and try to get published already. Well, stop yelling, I’m doing it! I’ve actually already received my first rejection letter (well, email). I’m taking it very well. After the 50th rejection I may start twitching and sobbing, but I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t drink my way through.

Anywhoo, don’t feel like you have to pander to my ego, but encouragement is always welcome (that’s a little guilt, if you didn’t notice). I’ll keep you posted on my progress.

i don’t have kids, so stop me if i’m wrong . . .

Isn’t it common knowledge that children will try to crawl under, climb on, squeeze through and jump off of just about anything?  Turn your back for one moment and your toddler is half way up a bookshelf or has shifted your car into neutral.  Anything not made entirely out of foam can be a potential hazard.  My interactions with young children are limited, so let me know if they are all perfect little angels these days. 

If my assumptions are correct, then this story should make you angry.  A woman in Spring Hill, FL is suing a pet door manufacturer because her two year old son crawled through their small dog door then drowned in their pool.  Yes, it was THEIR dog door and THEIR pool.  They weren’t at a friend’s house or otherwise unaware of the situation.  The mother says that the dog door manufacturer should have provided some kind of warning on the product to make her aware of the possibility that her small child could fit through the dog door.  I was watching this story on Good Morning America and I almost threw my cereal bowl at the television. 

Dog doors are made for dogs so they can have constant access to the outside world.  No offense, but an adult dog and a two year old child are on similar mental wavelengths.  If your dog can do it, your toddler will probably try it, too.  Is it too much of a mental leap to even consider that your child will try to squeeze through the dog door after he sees Scruffy do it about five dozen times a day? 

She didn’t know that her child could fit through the dog door?  Are you kidding me?  Children are soft.  They can squeeze just about anywhere.  

The Childers family didn’t realize that three year old Joshua knew how to work a dead bolt, but guess what?  He did!  And he spent three days alone in the woods as a result.  This story had a happy ending, but if it didn’t, should the family have sued the dead bolt manufacturer because they didn’t child-proof their product? 

Horrible, sad things happen every day.  People, even children, die.  I never imagined that my husband could catch on fire and spend four days in a burn unit, but it happened.  Did we sue the gas can manufacturer or the maker of the lawn mower?  No.  Because it was an accident.  A crazy, freak accident that could have (and probably has) happened to anyone.  No one was to blame but my husband and fate. 

I am very sorry that a mother has lost her child.  It’s a tragedy and I do not want to make light of the situation.  However, by trying to turn her son’s death into a cause, she is just distracting herself from reality.  Pet door manufacturers can put dozens of warning labels on their products, but it is not going to bring her son back and it probably won’t prevent many future accidents either.  Warning labels are no replacement for parental diligence and even then, accidents will happen.  No parent can have their eyes on their child at every moment.  It is not entirely the mother’s fault that her son crawled through the dog door and drowned in their pool.  But, it’s not the dog door company’s fault either.  Acceptance and time heal wounds, not placing blame.

in the Navy!

I haven’t posted one of these in a while, so here it goes.  And, sincere apologies to all my great friends in the Navy.  I love you all dearly and truly appreciate your service.  I also know that each of you has a wonderful sense of humor!

 

 

Don’t hate me, hate Plan 59 for the inspiration!

can we all just calm down, please?

Call me naive, but I refuse to panic.  The media is having a field day at our expense and, to paraphrase Public Enemy, I will not believe the hype. 

So far one person has died of swine flu in the United States. 

One. 

I feel very sorry for the poor family that lost their child to this flu, but one death does not a pandemic make.  Even the 159 deaths in Mexico should not incite mass panic. 

Can we put some things into perspective?  In the United States in 2006:

72,500 people died from diabetes

36,000 people died from regular flu

12,000 people died from HIV/AIDS

47 people died from lightning strikes

Remember SARS?  Remember the global hoo-ha and the face masks?  There are no documented deaths from SARS in the US and only about 800 documented deaths world-wide.  There are over 6.7 billion (with a B) people on the planet.  So, that’s means about  .00000001% of the population died from SARS.  Watching the news, you would have thought this was the next Black Plague (which killed about 75 million people by the way). 

Moral of the story:  cover your mouth when you sneeze, wash your hands, don’t tongue kiss a stranger and you’ll probably be fine.  Right now you have a better chance of being struck by lightning than contracting (much less dying from) swine flu. 

See?  Don’t you feel better?

 

(all statistics were expertly Googled)