The Magical Fairy Realm

Shortly after we moved here, Bunch commented that she wished she had a tree in her room.

Our kids dwell below ground level, with only very tiny windows for natural light source in their rooms. They’re rather like rabbits, those two, sleeping underground and coming out in the daylight.

Still, a tree would be a lovely thing to have. But a live one simply wouldn’t thrive downstairs.

Since she was my tiny little angel girl, Bunch has always been enchanted with Fairies. (Or Faeries. I interchange them as the whim strikes me.)

(fairy dress up...age 4)

When we lived in Vermont, Bunch spent the entirety of nearly every recess at school building faerie houses at the bases of every tree on the playground. The trees in our neighborhood often had little faerie abodes gracing them. Moss, sticks, flowers, shells, rocks, leaves, acorns, pinecones etc…all these natural tools of the trade were abundant where we lived.

When she was in first grade, Bunch and I selected one of the trees in our yard and built a rather sturdy faerie dwelling at the base. Bunch started leaving them notes, small treasures, and gifts. She was a TRUE BELIEVER in fairies at this time, and the fairies rewarded her attention by collecting the things she left them during the night, and sometimes leaving her small treasures in return.

This magical exchange was the source of much delight for the enchanted Bunchkin. She’d regularly wake up and run outside to see if they’d visited while she was dreaming. Fairy Houses are a wonderful source of magic and delight for young girls.

Here is a picture of Bunch with the faerie house mentioned above:

So back to the tree.

Reflecting on this, I got a crazy notion to build Bunch her very own Faerie Tree. There had been a severe storm here shortly after we moved in, and a number of trees fell as a result. The vacant house at the end of our street had an SUV-sized pile of branches mounded up in the street. I think the owner was hoping the city would just haul them away (no such luck!) They’d been baking in the desert sun for about 3 months, when I decided to take a little hack saw over one afternoon, and haul some branches home for my project.

Once I had enough wood, there came the task of what to build my tree on. I needed a base of some kind. My wonderful mother-in-law came to my rescue with these two heavy newsprint cores. I have no idea where she rounded them up, but they were PERFECT for my tree.

I took two of them, and bolted them together, one on top of the other. Then I got three L-shaped shelving brackets and secured them at the base to serve as the “feet” of the tree. Then I started in with the wood. Branch-by-branch, I nailed, screwed, bolted and secured the wood to the cardboard tube till it was covered.

I will pause now to mention that this was all 100% manual labor. I didn’t have any fancy power tools, drills, staple guns or whatnot. At one point I did borrow a power saw from my brother, which I didn’t actually know how to use. After nearly cutting my finger off (miraculously, it only tore off the end of my gardening glove. Talk about adrenalin rush!) I gave up on power and reverted back to manual labor for all my sawing needs.

Things were going well, but the tree looked like it was in the dead of winter with no leaves. Thus far I hadn’t spent a dime on it…using only parts and pieces we had lying around already. I checked out the craft store for leafage, but realized it would get spendy in a jiffy to buy enough greenery. So I stopped by a local thrift store, and there I hit the jackpot: full-size fichus tree for only $8.00!

I hauled it home and pulled all the greenery off it. Using floral tape and wire, I secured all the leaves onto my fairy tree. Then I used a bag of Spanish moss and a glue gun to fill in the “chinks” between branches, which added a little more authentic look.

With the tree complete, I decided to build a little whimsical ladder for it. I glued flowers and moss on it for decoration. My goal was to put together the basic tree, and include one new fairy on it which her grandmother had gotten for the occasion, but that Bunchkin would be the one to decorate it.

Twinkle lights came next. Here I made an annoying error in judgment because I used regular twinkle lights…oblivious to how much time they’d be on. Lit up 24/7, they died within four months. ( I ended up taking everything off the tree, unwinding the lights, and replacing them with LEDs. Which unfortunately I could only find in white strings...not green. TIP: if you build your own faerie tree, use green-string'd LEDs if possible!)

Finally, I found a pretty green ribbon to wind around, and added a few sparkly floral-arranging elements. It was done. Whew!

(the finished project in front of the garage door)

I kept the tree in the garage till Birthday Eve. Once Bunch was in bed, I hauled it into our living room and put her birthday gifts under it. Then I left a note on the stairs, with my cell phone next to it, that said “STOP!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUNCHKIN!…DO NOT GO ANY FURTHER. CALL THE HOUSE PHONE AND WAKE ME UP, AND WAIT HERE TILL I TELL YOU ”

Before we went to bed, I woke up Gator. Since siblings often feel bad on birthdays because of the hyper focus on the birthday kid, I wanted him to be in on the surprise. So we brought him upstairs and showed him the tree, to include him on the secret. He was so excited to be part of the magical conspiracy. Good move momma!

By then, I could hardly sleep for all the excitement!

Remember that feeling you’d have as a child waiting for Christmas morning? How you couldn’t WAIT to see if Santa had brought you anything? It was the one day a year when anything was possible…at least till that fateful day in 1st grade when your big brother told you there was no such thing as Santa and killed the magic. You thought it was gone forever, but little did you know that in a mere 30 years, you’d experience that same feeling again, only this time it was because you WERE the magic, for your own precious child. It’s even better.

At 5:00 a.m. the call came. Bunch has always been an early riser, so I kind of expected her to get up even earlier, and she didn't disappoint. I don’t think I was more than half asleep all night, so we quickly jumped out of bed and got the video camera out. I wanted to capture her face when she first saw her tree.

Gator was adorable. He was so cute about guiding her up the stairs, with her eyes shut, till she was placed before her glorious tree.

It was so fun to watch her response as her ten year old eyes opened and beheld the sight. And such a delight to watch her open the gifts from her posse. Bunchkin definitely has a fan base.

For Christmas we went to my inlaw’s house, where the Faerie Magic just continued. Mom had seen someone cutting down a big tree, and asked if they could make her two stumps. She sewed a little cushion to sit on for one, and then found this swan-shaped basket made out of twigs at a thrift store to set on the other.

It just looked like a fairyesque item, and sure enough, it’s become a complete faerie community, housing all sorts of fairies and woodland creatures and wee folk.

I let Bunchkin draw a tree on her closet door with colored pencil and decorate it with fairy stickers. I only helped her with some shading (she’s a fabulous artist...which I'll discuss in another post).

The following Christmas a friend gave us a small fairy table base with a glass top. It's perfect!

Slowly Bunchkin’s downstairs room has transformed into a completely Magical Fairy Realm, as she’s added her special touches to it over time.

A shot of that year's birthday cake. It's a fairy scene on a jelly roll pan, with rice krispy meadow, bundt cake fairy house, three tiny fairies, frosting river and candylandesque treats galore. Biggest Hit EVER with the kids!

Two years have now passed, and The Fairy Tree is still one of Bunchkin’s most treasured possessions.

I don’t know how long the love of faeries will last…I see no reason for it to end, but even if it does, I do know that the tree, with it’s magical creatures, butterflies, lights, flowers and of course fairies, will always be a favorite around here.

♥

Blue (of course)

So I took a quiz on facebook called Which color is your aura?, and I can HARDLY BELIEVE IT, but my color is BLUE! As it turns out.

According to this quiz,

"Blues are the most caring, nurturing and protective personalities in the color-spectrum. They live out of their hearts and their emotions. Their life purpose is to serve, help and love others. Blues have an inner knowledge and wisdom and they feel and know what is right without needing facts or data for substantiation. The moment they become quiet inside, they will recognize or hear an inner voice or guidance, which will tell them what to do. They can easily tune into other people and feel precisely what is going on. Blues are the most emotional of all the color personalities. They often feel lost if they don't have the opportunity to clear their way through their intense jungle of deep feelings. Helpful activities for Blues would include talking with friends about their inner life, writing a journal or just being quiet so their intense emotions can calm down."

Ironically, earlier this day I had been asked to take a similar quiz on a website called www.colorcode.com, and it also claims that my color is BLUE! So clearly it's true.

Colorcode.com had the following to say about Blue People:

"Blues (Motive: Intimacy)

Blues are motivated by Intimacy. They seek to genuinely connect with others, and need to be understood and appreciated. Everything they do is quality-based. They are loyal friends, employers, and employees. Whatever or whomever they commit to is their sole (and soul) focus. They love to serve and give of themselves freely in order to nurture others' lives. blues have distinct preferences and have the most controlling personality. Their personal code of ethics is remarkably strong and they expect others to live honest, committed lives as well. They enjoy sharing meaningful moments in conversation as well as paying close attention to special life events (e.g. birthdays and anniversaries).

Blues are dependable, thoughtful, and analytical; but can also be self-righteous, worry-prone, and moody. They are "sainted pit-bulls" who never let go of something or someone once they are committed. When you deal with a BLUE, be sincere and make a genuine effort to understand and appreciate them."

Quite the horoscope, no?

What color are you? And do you secretly think your color is the best color to be, like I do? ;-)

Green

A year ago this week Doc and I headed out on a whirlwind trip to Ireland. We departed on Tuesday night, landed in Shannon at dawn on Thursday, and left the gorgeous island at dawn on Sunday. My pix from that trip are on my album (link on the left), and my banner this month was taken by Doc when we were at the Cliffs of Moher. It was a grand experience. There wasn't time to visit my ancestor's graves in Northern Ireland during that trip...guess we'll just have to go back someday.

Today we woke to find that a sneaky Leprechaun had turned our food all green. And the water in our toilets, too! Quite a shock for some of us...

I snapped a couple pix (spared you the toilet, no worries!).

First is my Gator eating his green cow (cream of wheat) and that there is green orange juice (which caused no small amount of amusement for The Gator. "Green ORANGE juice! Get it?!")


Next is a picture of our dinner table...definitely a theme going on here.


I always think of our years in Chicago on this day, and how they turn the river green. Talk about a celebration...that town does it right! My kids are both Chicago babies, so that town holds a special place in my heart.

How did you pass the day? Any tricksters play pranks on you?

Finding Joy

A dear friend of mine has these beautiful, brass, 15" high letters hung on her great room wall: J O Y

Every time I'm at her home, I stare up at them and think about joy. There have been some times when I've looked at those letters while feeling numb inside...going through a season of heartache or depression. But those beautiful letters give me pause, as I reflect on joy, and the statement "Men are that they might have joy", and about the moments in my life that I have felt that elusive emotion.

Joy is different than enjoyment, different than fun, different than amusement and being entertained. I'd even submit that it's different than happiness. It's a richer, deeper, more significant feeling than any of those.

Nearly every moment of bonafide joy in my life has been connected to Doc, Bunch and Gator. They are the source of most of my joy. There have also been a few select moments in my life not connected to them that have been joyous, when I've been filled to overflowing (with joy, and wonder, and awe, and gratitude) because of the amazing friends I am blessed to have in my life. And finally, there have been a few moments when my joy was filled to overflowing directly from God; when I have felt His love and care for me personally, and known that I am known by Him. Those experiences have been profound, and carried me through years at a stretch.

For many people in this world, the ability to feel joy, or even just happiness on a regular basis, is a struggle. Difficult life circumstances, troubling experiences, challenges that seem insurmountable, and even a few brain chemicals or hormones...these can all make it difficult.

But the good news is there is help and hope for all these situations. And if we are willing to accept that help (which can require a dose of humility and a lot of trust), we can move through the seasons of life with faith, grace, and even a glimmer of hope for a brighter world. I'll be writing about this in the near future...

I'm in a happy place inside right now, for which I am grateful. But I am learning that change is constant, and won't be so surprised when things "dip" in the future. For most of my life I believed in the fairy tales of childhood; bought into the fable that if I just did "X, Y, & Z I'd live happily ever after".

Now I know that while there will be many moments when we are surprised by joy in our lives, they are icing on the cake of adversity. And they are all the sweeter for following the pain of growing through change and enduring well the trials we are dealt.

Life is the perfect laboratory for teaching us all the things we need to learn to become who we can become. And someday, (but not in this life), if we do our best, we WILL have a fullness of joy evermore. I have faith in that.

Lazy Post Number Two

It's almost Monday everybody! In a few short hours, millions will head out on their daily (or weekly) commute. Wouldn't it be awesome if commuting were this fun?



Have a great week!!! ♥

Lazy post

I don't typically do this, but I'm working and have just a moment with no time to write. Was feeling hungry at the moment which made me think of this.

So enjoy a hearty laugh...a classic SNL skit. I'll have another favorite short clip for you next time.
Have a happy weekend all!

another day, another month

Marching along are we?

February passed altogether too quickly for my preferences. I haven't been very good about blogging, and honestly it's like part of my brain is just not developed or something, because I see other women who have UBER busy lives yet they manage to bang out inspiring, insightful posts on a very regular basis. I don't know what's wrong with me when my darling punks trot off to school every morning, and Doc heads off to battle diseases, accidents and injuries...or at least learn how to, and I can't even toss out a measley crumb to the clamoring masses. Yeah, there are clamoring masses of you. The almighty Google hath declared it.

I actually have been writing a little bit, but not blog writing. I know, I know. It's hard to believe that I ever hold anything back from this little patch of cyber space, but in reality there is a lot that I write that just isn't fit for human consumption. So rather than run on and on, I opt for radio silence. Trust me, you're grateful. If I didn't restrain myself, you'd all become afflicted with blogging bulemia and have to purge. Never a pretty sight.

So now it's time for The March Good News Moment! Guess what kids? Doc was inducted into the AOA, which is apparently a pretty significant honor according to my friends who are doctors always tell it to me straight. About 5% of the medical students make the cut each year. According to the official website, students are picked not only for their "high academic standing, but as well for leadership among their peers, professionalism and a firm sense of ethics, promise of future success in medicine, and a commitment to service in the school and community."

If you know Doc, then you already know that this list defines him, and how he approaches medicine, so it truly is a well-deserved honor, and we're all really proud of him. By we I mean me. And Bunch and Gator are pretty psyched too...because it just means there's one more accolade to recommend him as The Best Candidate for the one radiology spot in the residency program here. And we none of us are interested in moving again if we can possibly avoid it. So here's hoping. He will be putting his application package together in the next few months, and sending it off September 1st. It's going to be a dizzyingly busy and expensive year for him.

Speaking of busy. As has been the case every March for the past 8 years, I'm heading to Orlando, Florida for my annual re-certification as a flight attendant. It should comfort the travelling public to know that flight attendants must go through all the safety, emergency evacuation, and medical drills annually, and make sure we still know our stuff. If we don't pass, we can't fly. Since I was hired this time of year, this is the month I always have training.

Now some people are jealous that I'm going to Florida, but lets just set the record straight: I fly across the country, arrive at about 9pm, go to the hotel, and then I have to be at the training facility at 7am EST. Which is 5 a.m. my time. My van to the facility will leave at 4:30 a.m. my time, which means I'll be getting up aproximately 3:30 a.m. my time, and then spending the entire day trying to yawn unobnoxiously and fighting to stay awake during the lecture portion. We finish at 7pm, and go back to the hotel and then take an early flight out the next morning.

So no, I won't be chillin' with The Mouse. Or going to any of the fabbo attractions in the area. I'll be evacuating a plane in 60 seconds, one that is filled with simulated smoke, while you see fire flashing out the windows as the structure shakes (it's actually a fabulous training tool. Love the trainer!)

And I still have to put in my regular flying hours in addition to the training. So I'll be away a little bit more this month than usual. Here's hoping no one gets sick while I'm away (like last month!), and that I'll qualify for another year of employement by the end of training. I always worry about this kind of thing. Cause a lot rides on it, not the least of which is that it's the best job I've ever had and I totally love it..

Something more interesting next time...I promise!

Angels Among Us

Yesterday Bunch and I were talking about the future. We’re currently trying to figure out where our 2nd choice for residency would be, should Doc not match into the ONE radiology slot here, and we have to move when he graduates. (Our 1st choice is to stay here).

It’s significant because the kids will go through junior high and high school during those years, and Bunch will even start college. So it caught me off guard when she mentioned that she would like to live at home when she’s in college.

“You don’t want to live on campus?” I asked.

“No, I’d like to live at home.” she replied.

Wow! Way to melt a mommy’s heart! Whether it happens or not, can I just say how precious those words were to me!

From a very early age I couldn’t wait to move out. To find a true “home”. I vividly remember the first time I ever heard that people get to leave home. I was four years old, and a baby sitter mentioned that she was going away to college, which I’d never heard of before. She explained that she’d live there so I wouldn’t see her as often. I asked her where she would sleep and she told me that you sleep at school, in dorms. What a concept! As my young brain tried to wrap itself around the prospect of moving away, it seemed like an eternity to wait till I could do the same. I hadn’t even started kindergarten yet.

If you’ve read much of my blog, you’ll know that things didn’t improve much in the next few years. The last day of school in fourth grade, the teacher handed out our report cards which also revealed which class we’d been assigned to for the following year. I desperately hoped I’d get Mrs. Chilius, because the other class was going to be a new teacher. A new teacher no one had ever heard of. A new teacher we knew nothing about. It was too much of a wild card. I wasn’t close to Mrs.Chilius, but at least she was a known quantity.

It was a serious Charlie Bucket moment. You know when his family scraped together their last farthings to get him the Wonka Bar for his birthday, and everyone held their breath as he carefully pulled back the wrapper hoping to see that sparkly golden ticket beneath? I held my breath as I pulled my report card out of the envelope, skipping over the grades to see who I’d been assigned the next year.

And the letdown was immense. Not Mrs. Chilius. The new teacher. Whose name wasn’t even on the card. Just the room number.

I spent a summer slightly dreading the new year, with no real expectation that things would be any better. My life was in a bit of a spiral.

The first day of fifth grade, it took me about 3.2956 seconds to fall in love with her. Miss Ryan was young, energetic, and feisty. With her red locks and fair skin, I thought she was beautiful. She had loads of fresh ideas, and a fiercely devoted heart. She was a breath of fresh air in a school that was getting along in years. I had definitely won the teacher lotto.

As a kid I liked basically everyone, but felt like most people didn’t like me. There was obviously a lot of cognitive distortion going on with my thinking, but that’s how I felt at the time. Most people didn’t really spend much time thinking about me at all. We were just kids.

But Miss Ryan liked me. She was the first person in my life who seemed to care about whether I was happy, if I was thriving, and how I was developing. She spent extra time with me, in what could only be thought of as an intervention. She made up a little notebook which she called “Operation Blue”, and we’d meet together after school and talk about how I was doing, and write notes and thoughts down. She tried to help me think about things from a different perspective. Encouraged me. Listened. Inspired me.

She was the best school teacher I ever had.

When I was in eight grade, Vicki moved to California. She was assigned to be my teacher at church, and for two years I basked in the glow of her love and encouragement. She arrived on the scene in my life after a particularly difficult two years of junior high school. I’d been praying every night for God to just “take me back” in my sleep. Was never suicidal, but was so sad all the time and didn’t see any other solutions.

Vicki was the second adult that I knew loved me. Who believed in me and gave me hope. Whenever I was tempted to make a wrong choice, it was the thought of disappointing Vicki, not my parents, that helped me be true to what I knew was right. Her good opinion of me kept me out of a lot of trouble. I honestly felt like her family was sent to California just for me. They moved away shortly after I turned sixteen, but her impact on my life can’t be understated. We’ve kept in touch all these years.

The Johnsons made a timely entrance onto my life scene right around the time Vicki moved away. You know the type of people who just have a GIFT for working with teens and young adults? That was the Johnsons, and I fell promptly in love with the entire family.

One of the first things that Brother Johnson told me when we met was that there was someone I should be friends with. Her name was Mary, and her mother had recently passed away. For reasons I was never clear on, even though her father and siblings lived nearby, Mary had become a foster child at the Johnson’s home.

I adored Mary and we became friends right off. I never said anything about it to her, but I was so jealous that she got to live be part of their family and I didn’t. Just didn’t seem fair. I did my level best to spend as much time with Mary and the Johnsons as possible, and they were a wonderful influence on me.

My friendship with them carried me through the next few years till that eternally distant day finally arrived: I left home for college.

The 12 hour drive with my dad seemed like forever, but we finally arrived on campus. After he helped me carry my things to my dorm room, he said he’d let me get settled for a bit, and then take me to dinner at a pizza joint he’d dined at back when he attended the same university. While I was hungry and looked forward to eating at a restaurant (a very rare event in my life), I simply couldn’t wait for him to leave that day. The moment he finally said goodbye and left, I felt the most exhilarating sense of freedom for the first time in my life. I wanted to dance, to sing, to twirl. It was fabulous!

I couldn't have made it without my dear girlfriends growing up, but these adults were the main reasons I made it through with the personal values that have governed my life. They instilled hope, believed in me, inspired me to keep trying, and convinced me that I was loved.

I believe everyone has guardian angels…and sometimes they’re flesh and blood.

I've been Somewhere in Time...

I'm honestly not sure where the past two weeks have gone. Wait. Oh yeah. One of them was spent criss-crossing back and forth across the country a number of times for work. That always sort of puts me into a time warp. It's somewhat disorienting to "come back to earth" and try to catch up on all that has happened with my peeps while I was suspended mid-air for a week. Think Somewhere in Time*...when Richard pulls the 1979 penny out of his pocket and is suddenly sucked back through the vortex to the present day. That's kind of what it's like when I get home from work every month.

But I'm almost adjusted now, and have enjoyed a number of fun activities this week. I was able to attend the annual PTA "Picnic Lunch with Your Student" at Bunch and Gator's school, and visited them during their class Valentines parties. And then I was thrilled to go to lunch with some of the dearest of friends I've made here on Friday to celebrate the estimable Michelle's birthday. It was a great day.

For our grand Valentine's weekend, I made Doc and the kids chocolate covered strawberries and enjoyed spending time with them. Doc and I went out for lunner yesterday...it was supposed to be lunch, but it was after 4pm when we finally ate so it became dinner too. Then we headed up to Park City to a classmate's house for a get-together. He kept me out far too late and we had a lazy Sunday morning as a result.

I know some people abhor Valentines Day (and Mother's Day, Father's Day, and any other "made up" holidays), but I l♥ves them. I love that as a country we all, from the smallest school child to the most aged among us, pause to express love to the people we care about. It's not the only day of the year that we do that, but it's one of them, and I enjoy it. Mainly because I always have an abundance of gratitude for people in my heart...and it's nice to have a day when expressing it in some way won't squeeb people out so much. Not that I ever squeeb my people out of course. But just saying. (No squeebing, right?)

I have been reading blogs lately, but have gotten out of habit of commenting on any of them. A few of my favorite bloggers have recently gone "comment-free"...turning off the feedback loop. I've been tempted to do that myself, but have instead just stopped worrying whether anyone says anything when I write. So please don't feel like you need to chime in. I feel like comments are a gift...and the best gifts are the ones you don't expect, that the giver is excited to give, so it's a true "win-win" moment for everyone.

I know this is one of the issues that the Valentine's Day (and Mother's Day and Father's Day) haters get so energized over. That whole tricky sense of obligation is overwhelming and burdensome. They don't like feeling like they're expected to give something just because Hallmark or someone dictates it. They'd rather just do something out of the blue (and blue, as we all know, is simply FABULOUS) when the recipient least expects it. I agree that unexpected gifts (of words or deeds) are wonderful. But that doesn't, imho, negate the beauty of anything given to another on a holiday.

I always try to give thoughtful, sincere gifts to the people I love. In fact, one of my greatest frustrations is when there is something that I wish I could give to someone, but just can't afford. Not that all the gifts I give are purchased. Sometimes I come up with splendid ideas of ways to serve or kindnesses I can give that don't cost money...and those are the best ones of all. But there are times I think of something that costs money, and it's painful that I am just not in a position to give it. Like I'd love to pay off a few people's student loans. And fund the cost of adopting a baby for a certain loved one. And pay off the mortgages of all my loved ones. And set everyone I care about up with a year's supply of essentials (food/water/energy source). And there are a few people on my list who could use a new car. I'd love nothing better than to park one in front of their house and put a card with the key in the mailbox. Wouldn't that be fun! I have some loved ones with health care bills I'd love to make disappear. Man if I could just be a fairy godmother for a day, it'd be one very busy day.

So back to my blog; Please think of commenting here in the same way. I don't expect, nor am I trying to solicit, feedback from my readers. I'm trying to be authentic in my motives for writing here. It's mainly for me...and the few people who actually know me and are genuinely interested in my life. Frankly, most of my posts aren't even comment-worthy. And if you blog and I ever leave a note for you, know it's given with no sense of obligation or "tit-for-tat" aspirations. Life is just too short for that kind of guilt.

Happy week to all! ♥

PS: any questions I ask are merely rhetorical in nature. Kind of like the whole premise of Jeopardy. What is rhetorical?

*That's one of my favorite movies, by the way. I saw it with Doc when we were freshmen in college like a 21 zillion years ago. I haven't watched it since then, so maybe it's actually super cheesy and I only enjoyed it because I was watching it with the most fabulous guy on planet earth. So if you watch it and it really IS horrendous, don't blame me. You should have watched it with the person you were falling in love with cause then it'd be one for the books in your memory.

PPS: I don't see very many movies compared to the general population. And I'm a worthless critic. Unless it's crude, lewd, profane or violent. And I can't do horror. And I love happy endings. And that's probably more information than anyone cares about.

PPPS: Marie Calendar's is having their big Any Pie $6.99 sale right now. It's hard to pass up. We currently have the chocolate satin and double lemon cream pies in our fridge. They won't be there long though.

PPPPS: is it supposed to be PPS:, or is it supposed to be PSS:? I'm thinking adding the p's cause doesn't it stand for "post script". Post Post Post makes more sense than Script Script Script. I'm just too lazy to google it right now.

PPPPPPS: (I snuck an extra p or two in there just for fun) sometimes I get really honest on this blog, but I admit I'm a little bit afraid to go there right now. Real Blue will be back some day though.

25 Random Things...

So there's this thing floating around facebook that I kept getting tagged by people to do, so I finally did it. But since most of my bloggy friends aren't facebook friends, I'm co-opting it and posting it here too. Feel free to do this on your blog too if you like. I'm not going to tag anyone.

1. I just signed up to run my first full marathon...the San Diego Rock & Roll on May 31st. It's my dang sister's fault. She's always convincing me to do these crazy things (ran the Long Beach 1/2 marathon in October with her. Using the term "ran" extremely loosely.)

2. I've done some kind of exercise every day but Sunday since I turned 40, errr, "39 Forever", last year. Saying "last year" makes it sound a lot longer than it actually is.

3. I got pregnant with my first child on Valentines Day thirteen years ago. Yes, we know for sure it was that day. Probably the most expensive date we'll ever go on (factoring the cost of raising a child...).

4. I play the piano by ear, and enjoy improvising and making up little songs. But I'm nowhere close to being an excellent pianist, and rarely have a number polished enough to perform for an audience. But I could play for hours when it doesn't matter.

5. I chose my 2nd apartment in college because it had a piano in the living room. That seemed too good to pass up. I currently have two pianos at home, a grand and a digital upright for middle-of-the-night jamming (with headphones).

6. Doc and I have now been together longer than we were apart. I have only sketchy memories about life before we met.

7. I got the bends after my first real SCUBA diving excursion the first summer we spent in Bermuda. Spent 18 hours total in a very cramped recompression chamber staffed by volunteers. Had to pee the whole time.

8. I must have a fairly high pain tolerance. Gave birth twice without any pain relief. The second time it wasn't intentional. And Pitocin is the devil incarnate.

9. I love reading in bed. Curling up and getting lost in a good book is one of my all-time favorite things to do.

10. In my youth I was on the school track, volleyball, softball and gymnastics teams. I was never especially good at any of them, but they were beneficial activities to be involved in. My parents never attended a single meet or game.

11. In 7th grade I was cast as the Captain in Gilbert & Sullivan's "H.M.S. Pinafore"...which was the male lead. The script had the word "damn" in it repeatedly, which my mother insisted they change to "darn".

12. I won a prize at the last Halloween party I attended for my very unique uterus costume.

13. It's my intention to someday go on a "girl trip" with every one of my best friends. My fantasy would be to charter a nice yacht or tri-maran and have take all of them on a cruise together. That'd be a trip of a lifetime.

14. Two things I'd love to do which I never have are ride in a hot air balloon and ride in a helicopter (not as a patient). Just a matter of $ and scheduling.

15. If I ever see 12:15 on a clock, it makes me feel happy cause that's my birthday and I love that day!

16. One of my resolutions this year was to learn one new complicated piece of music...which requires reading music. So it'll take the full year to master for sure. Any suggestions on a song I should consider? (Not Johan Pachelbel's Cannon in D, because that's my all-time favorite song and I've played it thousands of times in thousands of ways.)

17. I sometimes write prose, and on rare occasions poems. I may have written about you, but you'll never get to read it.

18. I can't imagine a life without chocolate or hazelnuts. But it'd probably be better if they'd never been discovered. Interestingly, I really wasn't into chocolate till this decade. It's all Doc's fault for giving me one of these babies.That's what did it for me.

19. I make fabulous English Toffee. It's superior to Almond Roca candy which I used to love but not so much any more since my toffee is superior.

20. I had a water birth with my first child. She was the first water birth at the University of Chicago hospital. It was an amazing experience, and was written about in a front-page article in the Chicago Tribune.

21. I plan to write a memoir someday. Inspired by Jeanette Walls "The Glass Castle" because she showed me that anyone who is interesting has a past.

22. Malcolm Gladwell's "The Tipping Point" changed my life. I read it while visiting my friend Ann in Paris, and the discussion we had was a major paradigm shift for me, and reframed my perceptions about much of my past.

23. I haven't ever traveled so long or far that I'm ready to go home again. I wonder at what point my wanderlust would be sated.

24. Nearly everything I've worn in my adult life has been purchased second-hand or given to me by someone else, which I appreciate, as does my eternal-student husband. I don't have much of a fashion sense, but very sweet friends have intervened in my life in an effort to keep me off the "What Not To Wear" show.

25. The only diploma I've ever gotten was at Junior High graduation. I dropped out of high school my senior year, enrolled in community college and then transferred to a four-year college. I walked through graduation while enrolled in my last course via independent study, but never finished the course and thus never got my diploma. So far this fact hasn't held me back.