The Winds of Change

We all make promises. We even intend to keep those promises but change is just so impossible. Except it's not. It means doing something different, it means making a conscious effort to do that thing that has always eluded you and getting it done. After a wonderful vacation home in Mammoth, snowboarding, laying by the fire and just plain enjoying the snow (yes I said it midwest, ENJOYING the snow) it was time to head back to El Centro where I was blindsided by the winds of change. Quite literally.

For a week now there have been winds whipping through the region at about 35 to 50 miles per hour all the time. Where I come from they call that a tropical storm, here it is just "wind." The literal manifestation of what I had been thinking on the 8+ hour drive home spurred me into action. I was back, I had a writing schedule to keep, phone calls to make and things to get MOVING. If the wind could do it, so could I.

Day 1. The cold I had so valiantly avoided the entire time I was in Mammoth despite my husband getting sick firmly landed on my head and I slept for 23 hours. Literally 23 hours. I occasionally woke up to put some cold water on my parched throat or to try and ease the coughing fit that I was sure would end my life, but other than that, straight up sleep. Winds a tolerable 25 mph.

Day 2. I am sick of being sick and I am not letting THIS get the best of me. Die, microscopic virus, die! That meant going to get cold medicine. The trailer for the motorcycles is still attached to my truck so I go to the car. "Press," I push on the little button to unlock the car that had been sitting unused for 2 weeks. Not even a glimmer of light or the faintest whisper of a beep. Not good. Manually unlock the door to discover what I already suspected, dead battery. Chris works tonight so I let him sleep, round up the neighbor with a truck and jumper cables. Get all set up and then proceed to wake up the entire RV park as the alarm will not disengage with the car trying to start and every time you hook up the "negative" side of the battery an incredibly negative sound of echoing beeping blares out of the horn. Now the hubby is up as are the neighbors. We give up on the battery and just use one of the marine batteries we have in the RV so that I can go to town and return the non-working battery to Costco. That took way more energy than I expected AND I haven't even gotten on the road yet. Winds hitting 35 to 40 mph.

Day 3. In a drug induced, cold medicine filled haze I try to get some work done as I find out the neighbors are going to be requiring some massive help. Larry is now the color of a lemon and is in as much pain as he was when we left two weeks ago. Not good. After much convincing we get him in an ambulance at midnight on this day and I follow behind to care for his wife. When you have family who work in an ER the last thing they want is to see you there visiting. My bigger problem, I have been sick in bed for two days straight, I look hideous (at least I ran a brush through my hair and threw on lip gloss, thank you Carrie) and I am now face to face with all my husband's co-workers for the first time. Great. No one remembers me bringing in cake for his birthday because I slinked in so as not to disturb the "important" work of the ER. Next time I do something nice and I have make-up on, I swear, I am making a SCENE! Massive 45 to 50mph winds with gusts up to 65.

Day 4. Barely making it to and from the hospital. Helping Larry and Patricia get organized and deal with a heartbreaking diagnosis. I feel like I can barely think or move and then look at Larry who is really suffering and I keep telling my lungs to suck it up. When the Dilaudid is kicking in he is actually quite funny. Still cracking jokes, making light of his color and being transferred to San Diego. At one point he even calls to say it is happening and we won't possibly make it before he is on his way. I laugh at this knowing exactly how long a transfer takes and he is there for many more hours, enough time for his daughter and granddaughters to arrive via plane, via 1.5 hour drive. The girls and I start buttoning everything up, making plans and end with BIG, HUGE margaritas to wash away the day. Winds still at 50 mph.

While I have not exactly gotten on track with my "plan," I can say I am more motivated than ever before. I have watched two people have their plans laughed at by the universe. Their entire existence has shifted and Patricia likely only gets to enjoy her husband's company for three or four weeks. All the while the winds kept pushing, forcing their way in and reminding me in their very brutal way that today is all you have, so appreciate, have fun and do what you say you are going to do. The plan is underway. It has really only been about 24 hours since they left and since I was able to focus, but there are checklists and calendars and all sorts of intentions. Of course reality, like the battery, the cold and the illness are sure to rear their ugly heads again, but I think that is the real challenge of change. To do it anyway.
Winds, 25 mph, still peskily reminding me to be good.

23 Truths about Being an Adult

Make it stop!

I discovered 23 Adult Truths a long time back on my friend Lisa Bistreich-Wolfe's Facebook page and I couldn't help that think most of them are not only true but require a bit of personalization. There is that sad moment in life where you realize you are the grown-up. You expected to know so much more by the time that minute hit, but alas you realize the real truth behind the mystery of aging, no one knows what they are doing and we are the sum total of our life experiences. Which basically means all those times we thought we would know more, better or understand when we grew-up was a facade predicated by all the otherwise lost grown-ups in the world. For parents out there, the predicament is much worse as the faking  reaches new and epic proportions.

1. Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

I count this comment up to the fact we have filled our brains with useless information that soaked in during our youth. Our brains our sponges, indiscrimentent sponges when we are young and we just plain run out of room. So you will always remember all the words to "Ice, Ice Baby" to the shock and dismay of the young people who have rediscovered the song (seriously, who knew!?) but you will forget the time repeatedly.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

In your youth I don't think this realization ever hits, maybe because your memory is better so you are never on the wrong side. But when you are older you can be oh so certain that you are reciting facts and suddenly you remember the moment when you really did move the keys, say something you forgot or any number of other things that make you wrong. Now you must decide, how do you back down yet keep a tiny bit of your pride?

3. I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

Sleep is that thing you always want but don't want to waste your time on, until you get to an age where you want desperately to shut your brain off. What did we think we were missing when we were kids?

4. There is a great need for a sarcasm font.

My ability to communicate is desperately diminished by the lack of a sarcasm font. I think I should develop an app for that. Make some joke about how sarcasm is the cheapest form of humor, I don't care, it's necessary. Have you met the morons in this world!?

5. How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

My friend Wendy actually taught me how to do this. You have to fold the corners into one another and then sort of partition it off in three pieces. Despite the excellent teaching, my solution: fold twice and roll into ball.

6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

In the computer age...um no. I do still think it looks pretty.

7. MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5, I am pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

Now Google allows you the possibility of skipping your neighborhood, but even then the directions are a bit tedious. I want a way to say "start from the liquor store on the corner and..."

8. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

I stand by this statement 100%. It is not that they would only be more interesting it would stop me from sitting and wondering for hours how the person who was only 43 died. Now, in the days of Google I can usually find out, but that is 15 to 30 minutes of procrastination I don't need to be talked into.

9. I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind-of tired.

Actually, this is not true, but only because I don't have my own kids. Usually my "tired" now has much more to do with me not wanting to do whatever it is I am supposed to do. I participate in procrastination sleep.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

This is something kids probably don't need to know as it might encourage more bad decisions, but I can say when looking back on my life, we are rarely telling the stories when "things started to get a little nuts, so I went home to go to bed." It is much more like, "it looked like a really bad idea for her to try the jump in the dark and 10 hours later we were finally being discharged from the ER with a list of local AA meetings."

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

And you can't fight through it so don't bother. Go get a cup of coffee, a soda and stop by the desk of every person who might just have a minute to chat until the day is over. Or get on Facebook.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection....again.

I have replaced portions of my movie collection multiple times. I don't even plan to fully upgrade to Blue Ray. Now I just use a program to put RedBox on my iPad and delete most of the movies when I am done watching them. Great for a plane ride! On that note, so many movies are just not as worthy of being watched over and over again as they used to be. Or maybe there are just too many of them.

13. I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I swear I did not make any changes to.

This is why I have 30 versions of long projects on my computer and no matter how I choose to use the file name/date combination I still can't figure out which is the newest version. The one time I didn't do that...replaced a file with one that was incomplete...rewrite hell!

14. I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

You know who you are. Okay, maybe you don't.

15. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

Why should you have to turn on the glaring overhead light to get an ice cube in the middle of the night? Okay, let's be honest, I meant ice CREAM.

16. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Light than Kay.

While this is a relatively funny idea, I will never forget the time by 14 year old sister said that statement out loud and realized it meant the letter "K" and was a play on the spelling. 2 weeks later I was telling the story to Craig who is 30-something and had never put that together.

17. I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

This is much more important than the "skip neighborhood." Of course, what would the people do who live in the ghetto? Would it refuse to help?

18. I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
For me it is more procrastination and hunger, but same general idea.

19. How many times is it appropriate to say "what?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?
I say twice. If you can't project your voice or annunciate, whatever you are saying can't possibly be important.

20. I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front.

These are my favorite LA traffic moments and they are too few and far between. And don't look at me when I am doing it in your high-end Mercedes and act like you are a tourist who didn't know any better. No one believes you.

21. Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty and you can wear them forever.

I think this starts in college. When you have to pay for laundry. It doesn't really start when you have to do your own, but once those quarters start flying, pants can be worn forever!

22. Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey- but I'd bet everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time.

Is this even confusing? It's want and desire to stay in bed instead of do work. It's why you can't find your keys, don't want to find your cell phone and desperately want to avoid getting vertical.

23. The first testicular guard, the "cup" was used in Hockey in 1874 and the first helmet was used in 1974. That means it only took 100 years for men to realize their brain is also important.

This does not surprise me in the least and most of them would still avoid protecting their brain. Just look at all the helmet-less motorcycle riders in Florida.

The Continued Devolution of the Species

First and foremost I have to say that the two people Chris and I watched practice at Indian Wells won the tournament, so I believe we have some magical powers and we should be hired on to travel around with Rafa and Maria to ensure future wins. I’m just saying, it could be something to consider.

Now onto the truth about a tennis tournament and absolutely baffling people. We were watching Djokovic play and because we had purchased our day tickets rather late in the scheme of things we were up pretty high. Now here they do let people come in on the points as it is unlikely to disturb the players below. There still isn’t a bad seat in the house, but the visual and audio disturbance created is not like having dude in a pink neon shirt walking up in your eye line, talking on his cell phone while you are trying to serve the ball.

 

These fine individuals start climbing the stairs, being as loud as humanly possible (I think they might both be hard of hearing) and pretty much sounding like a conversation you would hear between Jerry Seinfeld’s parents on the show as they take their seats. After FOREVER they finally settle down a few seats away from us, great.

Everything is just fine until the woman’s cell phone rings. Now for those who haven’t been to a tennis match, this is like going to the movies. They remind you repeatedly to silence your cell phones and you NEVER answer the phone. Oh, but she did. Now the already hearing impaired woman is talking on the phone, you know what that means. She is yelling as though she is somehow projecting her voice clear to the location of the person on the other end.

Multiple people shoot her dirty looks, I “shush” her no less than three times and she is oblivious to all of it. She is going through her laundry list of what she has done over the past two days including who she has seen. She then starts relaying shot-by-shot the match we are all watching. As if the Tennis Channel announcers are not bad enough, I am getting the expert tennis advice from the elderly Jewish lady who doesn’t know how to shut off her phone as “Djokovic obviously is loosing steam and might very well lose the match.” He didn’t by the way, won the second set 6-2 and pretty much eviscerated his opponent, so I am not sure what game she was watching.

Chris had enough and went over there to kindly remind her that she was not supposed to talk on her phone in the stands and she got off the phone and apologized. He was thanked by everyone around us and one man even applauded. Suddenly her husband gets his 80-year-old self all in a tizzy. He begins loudly complaining about “who is that asshole to tell you what to do. I should have done something about it, I am going to go over there…” you can imagine.

That would have probably been the end of it other than the man continuing to mumble (loudly) under his breath about how rude Chris was; clearly the world revolves around him. When it was certain who was going to win the man next to us decided to leave and get something to drink. This man is 20 years older than Chris, wearing a different color and looking nothing like Chris walks past the couple. Old, senile man has decided in his head that this is the man who told his wife to shut up.

He begins yelling at him and chasing him down the stairs as his wife tries to hold him back. He has no idea that he is yelling at the wrong person nor does his wife. When the man ignores him, he then proceeds to accost his friend about how rude and horrible that man is and he needs to be taught some manners. Again, SERIOUSLY?! The 80-year-old, who looks like he might stroke out at any minute, face as red as a tomato and sweat pouring down, actually looks like he is going to throw down putting his hands in fists. The younger man barely contains a smile, shakes his head and starts walking quickly away. The old man barely makes it back to his seat, I was half expecting him to roll down the stairs ala Looney Toons.

With that the entire section is laughing as the old peacock man finally sits back down and we all realize we have missed the end of the game because the sideshow was just so show stopping. Luckily there were a few more games in the set, but still. I guess I could look at it that it was nice the old man was defending his wife’s honor, but when did it become okay to be a total jackass? Isn’t he supposed to be the one who is annoyed by cell phones and people who don’t have common courtesy? We are devolving faster than expected, it is not good, not good at all.

The Accidental Shoplifter

I never knew it would be more difficult to right a wrong or try to explain to someone that I just wanted to pay for something I had forgotten to pay for. You see, I went to the grocery store and I got a cart even though I only needed a few things. I put the half gallon of milk in the bottom and the other things all ended up in the area where little people belong. When I unloaded onto the conveyor belt I totally didn't see the milk. 

Unloading at the car, my phone rang so I answered it. I loaded everything up in my car, returned the shopping cart all while chatting away without ever thinking about the milk I had just put in the vehicle. It wasn't until I was unloading at home that it struck me. I checked the receipt and low and behold I had just shoplifted a half a gallon of milk. 

Now the little inner rebel is like, "ha, ha, you got away with it!" The good girl side felt guilty. The realistic side said while it doesn't matter in the big picture, but every penny does add up. I didn't rush back to the store to fix it, but the next time I was there I went to the customer service desk. I showed them my receipt and asked to pay for the milk. Here is how the exchange unfolded:

"I don't understand? We didn't give you the milk you paid for?" the woman asks while holding the receipt that clearly doesn't have any milk on it.

"No, I accidentally didn't pay for the milk I have at home."

"So?"

"So, I would like to pay for it."

"I would have to have the milk to scan it."

"Can I get another one from the cooler and you can scan that one?"

"I guess, but I don't understand the problem. If you already have the milk why do you want to pay for it?" My patience is wearing thin. 

"It's not that I WANT to pay for it per say, but I feel like I should pay for it." In the woman's defense, this might have been a bit more abstract than she was capable of.

"Fine, get the milk." I go back to the cooler, bring up a new half gallon of milk for her to ring it up. She scans the milk, I pay and then she proceeds to bag the new milk and hand it to me. "Here you go."

"You want me to put it back in the cooler?"

That's some good lighting for jail!

"No, you already paid for it take it home."

"I was paying for the milk I already have at home, not THIS milk."

"Look lady, I don't know what kind of scam you are running here, but you paid for this milk so you take THIS milk."

I relent. I did the very best I could. I did consider leaving the milk on the counter and running out the door. Can you imagine the look on her face? What would she have shouted? "Security! Stop, the girl paid for something she didn't take!?" At least now I can consider the milk a gift from the store rather than an act of civil disobedience.

Haters Love to Hate

Not that I feel badly for the people of Hollywood or I don't think they deserve some of the ridicule they get, but the only way the Oscars are ever going to relive the glory days is if you take them away. Not from the artists. Not from the celebration, but stop making it the media circus it has become and let everyone celebrate quietly. We don't air the Nobel Prize winners, we don't showcase all the awards journalists give themselves. Just stop televising it and guess what, people might be interested again or at least nice.

Basically the telecast is too big for its britches. They have turned it into a Broadway show with a lame throughline. Cap that with the fact that the whole country, no wait, the whole WORLD has a love/hate relationship with Hollywood and is it any wonder that no host, no show, no anything can get a good review? Sans just chucking the awards at the peope's heads and doing away with speeches altogether, there really isn't a way to make the show shorter.

The Academy Awards need a revamp from start to finish. If a small ceremony is good enough for the techies, why can't that be good enough for the people whose faces are in the limelight 24/7 anyway? Throw them a ball, celebrate the movies and put it on the web. Then everyone can watch the bits they care about and move on. There are only about five awards anyone cares about anyway, anyone outside the biz that is. While I do believe the behind the scenes people deserve their moment in the sun, I also think those developing green energy, saving the lives of children, on peacekeeping missions the world over, discovering medical miracles and many others deserve to be recognized. Let's discard the arrogance of awards season and move on.

Just think about the real marketing opportunities of moving it to the web. People could instantly buy and download all the movies. They could watch the shorts for a small fee. They could see behind the scenes of why the editors matter. More than anything those who went to watch would care and would be nice. It is great that artistic and meaningful movies are shown, but the Academy Awards used to be big when people saw all the movies that were nominated. Back then 25 movies came out a year, if that. Then you have universal interest. It's not possible today. You have box office winners and independent films. Occasionally the two cross over but not often. In those cases everyone knows about them anyway.

Like much of the entertainment business, the model has to be adjusted. Of course, some could argue that no press is bad press and Twitter and Facebook were alive with people who wanted to hate on the show. It did have it's moments. I mean, Kristen Stewart should really lay of the drugs before she presents. Hollywood should be willing to laugh at itself and know that the comment about a "woman never letting anything go" when combined with the fact it is the reason Bin Laden is dead is funny. That Joaquin Phoenix is a freak, what was up with him!? That Channing Tatum should have been the cohost, it might not have worked with Franco, but Tatum can dance! Jennifer Lawrence probably fell on purpose, look at all the press she got when they thought she had a "wardrobe malfunction;" she's not dumb. Daniel Day Lewis was the funniest person of the night, he should have come on earlier. Jack Nicholson should be able to afford a tux that fits. Michelle Obama was stunning, but either be there or don't, the weird White House appearance? Ugh. And if you are going to sing, sing! Don't go out and lip sync badly, Catherine Zeta-Jones, especially when Adele is going to make you look like a punk!

Whatever you may think of the Oscars, it is never going back to the glory days. It is a fun awards show full of people who help to illuminate parts of the world and stories that might otherwise go untold. With all the familiarity in the world now, the show is outdated and will continue to be so until they either scale back all the other shows or shake up the situation and make it a private affair.

Super Bowl, God, Randy Moss and the Best Damn Halftime Show Ever

Much will be written today about the Super Bowl last night. The jokes on Twitter about “oops it was me” and Beyonce’s curling iron regarding the power outage were endless. Though I did like the Mark Hoppus reference, “if you like it then you should have put a fuse in it,” good reference without being on the nose, #nailedit, I agree. Whether you were for or against the “good team” (49ers) you have to be looking at that final drive and the pass interference with skepticism. Has football turned into the WWE? Of course, San Fran should have not been in that place, they should have done more earlier, but in the end the Ravens won and Michael Oher has a Super Bowl ring, not all bad.

Personally I would like to discuss all this talk lately of getting rid of extra points and field goal kickers because they “aren’t real athletes” and the game should be decided by “real football players” (insert random soccer comment here). First Take has hit this topic over the head all week. Okay, last night’s final five minutes had nothing to do with real football players but rather how to best run down the CLOCK. So, what kind of athlete is the clock? What kind of training does this time piece go through? You cannot on one hand say that it is an unfair advantage (3 points) and ignore the way coaches work the clock. It has become a part of the game and it is far more ridiculous than the “non-talent” (their words not mine) of the kicker. At least they do something!

Next God. Ray Lewis, you had two weeks to figure out how to best thank God without being a douche. Saying “when you have God on your side” in any format with any words behind it is inappropriate. Thanking God above all else is fine but acting like the heathens on the other side of the field have no relationship with God is ridiculous and that an all-powerful being as somehow anointed you is pure hubris. On that note, if God did have anything to do with this football game it was to deny the ego of Randy Moss (who dared say he was greater than Jerry Rice) a Super Bowl ring. As long as Randy Moss is on the 49ers it is unlikely they will win the Super Bowl if God has anything to do with it and Jerry Rice is laughing in his head, you know it!

And finally, the halftime show. Not only did Beyonce bring it, but the singing and dancing made the whole thing just plain fun and entertaining. Like the halftime used to be before nip slips and old people took over (Mick Jagger). Everyone is up in arms about Destiny’s Child being forced to sing a Beyonce song, the mean comments all over Facebook talk about what a horrible person she must be. Seriously!? Would either of those girls been invited to sing at the Super Bowl if it wasn’t for her? I don’t even know their names! They got to perform at the Super Bowl, their stock just went up and they looked and sounded great. I don’t think wanting to sing one of her biggest hits, one that got the whole crowd roaring is something to be sad about. Now losing the Super Bowl…that’s something to be sad about. Poor Jim Harbaugh…so close, yet again! 

It's Simple: Keep Your Private Stuff off the Web!

NEWS FLASH:

The Internet is NOT, in any way, PRIVATE!

***No matter what you say

Okay, so your bank has figured out a way to “lock it down” and so have credit cards, but that’s just because they want YOUR money. Facebook wants someone else’s money, so you are useless to them, a number, a demographic.

The latest and greatest is the “All Rights Reserved” people are putting on their photos. While this does cover you in a lawsuit (kinda), do you really have the money to hire a lawyer and sue someone for using your image? It’s a protection for after the fact, after all your friends have linked, commented and shared your most embarrassing moment. What good does that to you? The way to really protect your image is a watermark across the photo so that people can’t use it. Of course, people will still probably share it…if it is funny enough. What’s the next step, protecting pictures of your cat? If you don’t want to risk it showing up somewhere else, don’t put it on the web...period. If you don’t want someone else to post it, don’t get your photo taken doing something stupid. Or, develop a sense of humor…learning to laugh at yourself might be the only way to survive in this data fishbowl we have created and participate in everyday

Every few days there is some huge paragraph that someone has come up with claiming your “rights” on the public forum of Facebook. It either gives some protracted list of things you need to do in order to ensure “others” can’t see your photos or it states your explicit instructions to keep all your information private. Here’s the thing, if you want your information private, don’t use Facebook. If you don’t want to be tagged in photos, then unfriend people who do that to you. All the multi-paragraph statements do is annoy your friends for the space they take up on the newsfeed (love Twitter for the 140 character limit at that moment!). Admit it…you’ve stolen other images before that you found were funny, it’s just for fun: ease up!

Your concerns should not be based around what your friends are doing but rather how your data is being sold to advertisers. Funny how those ads around the side suddenly changed the other day when I ordered a pair of dirt bike riding pants. Guess what? Every time I log in now there are other dirt bike ads all over the page for gear and otherwise. I wasn’t logged into Facebook at the time, but I accept that somehow the crawlers on the web know what I buy and what I use.

Is it “Minority Report,” big brother is watching like creepy, hell yes; but I accept it as a modern age form of finding the right audience. Truth is, I would rather see ads I am interested in then the endless barrage of ED medication to buy online. I love it when they try to sell me things for a piece of anatomy I don’t even possess! Let’s all agree to accept that social networking is a public place, if you wouldn’t want it on the wall at Starbucks, maybe don’t put it on Facebook.