Words Matter

The Fog

2010-03-13T15:03:00.000-08:00

It rolls in
sometimes, without warning
like the moments in our lives
Vision blocked
sometimes, completely
dense, wet, solid
Other times, moments of clarity
pure, bright, translucent.
Sometimes, you can see
where you are
but, not where you're going
or where you've been
Sometimes, fog is comforting
it surrounds us
like a blanket of protection.
Other times, it's scary
disorienting
like being in a maze without a map
or the dark of night
without a light.
But, as fast as it rolls in,
it rolls out.
Often, it dissipates
with the light and heat of the sun,
as if only the brightest light
can help us see through the muck.
Sometimes, it lifts, but remains above us
like a warning, to be prepared for anything
or, like a shield, keeping us safe below.
Sometimes, it's just beside us or behind us
or just beyond
like it's not for us
but necessary for us to see.
The fog can make someplace so familiar
foriegn
And someplace foriegn
intimate.
Fog is water
life-sustaining
emotional
cleansing
it creates
and destroys
a juxtaposition of opposites
like the moments in our lives
sometimes, without warning
but, beautiful.

Day 2: Faith

2010-02-28T11:38:00.000-08:00

I went to an art therapy class today. It was originally a story, but I was so intrigued by the idea of it that I was excited to be part of the class. The instructor was a Reiki master/teacher and when she had us balance our chakras, she had movements and descriptions that were new for me. It was a cool experience.
The idea was after meditating, balancing chakras, writing intentions, you create art. The ultimate goal of the class was self forgiveness. It's something I am working on now.
I took a long time creating my art, which ended up being a painting of my human self and my higher self that you could see through a doorway. I am not a literal artist, so it was kinda like a childlike drawing, but it was what it was.
When I left, I put the painting on the floor of my passenger's seat because I was eating lunch and did not want to get food on the painting. The problem was that when Joey got in the car, I forgot to move it and there was a big smear over the painting from his boots. I was mad...more mad that I should have been since I did not really like the painting that much.
I was thinking while driving home that I did not have any idea what I was going to do with it. Maybe I would paint over it and create something new. But, there was a section of it that had a bunch of layers of paint.
Maybe I would give it away. But, who would want it? Maybe I would frame it and you might not notice the smear.
All this was on my mind when I stopped at the oasis on the way home. The day before, Joey chose to buy a plastic ring from one of those coin machines. Nate chose candy, but was upset about not having chosen a ring cause he did not have one. So, I told him if he was good, when we passed it on the way home, we would stop and buy him one.
So, I pulled off into the oasis and got out of the car. Suddenly, this guy comes up to me with a gas can asking for a couple bucks to help him and his sister.
I have taken a self-defense class before. I pulled my kids close to me and started walking toward the building, even as I pulled $2 out of my wallet for the guy. He was probably harmless, I decided later on that he must be. But better safe than sorry.
We went in, bought the ring came back outside and got in the car. As Nate was getting on his belt (which always takes forever), I saw that guy getting into his car. It was a much older model, really beat up. He had a woman in the car with him and I was pretty sure that this guy genuinely was trying to get somewhere and had run out of money. I did not have any money left, but suddenly, the painting came to mind.
I pulled up next to his car and rolled down my window. He had to open his door cause his window did not work. I handed him the painting, saying I did not have much money, but I had this painting and maybe they could sell it.
He took it.
It made me think on the way home that I understand the emotions an artist goes through when selling a painting. I di dnot particularly like the painting, but I still felt an attachment to it. I put a lot of energy into it. But, I have a picture of it the class instructor took.
I hope that the energy I put into the painting brough that man and his sister blessings. I hope the energy keeps them safe. I hope it gets them to their destination. And, maybe they can sell it and get some money for it. Or, maybe they will decide they like it and keep it and when they get to where they are going, they will hang it up.
My reason for calling this faith is because I had to have faith. I had to believe that I can forgive myself. I had to believe before begining this experiment the first time that giving gifts would make a difference in my life. I had to believe on day 2 of round two that the man approaching me at the oasis really needed help. I had to believe giving away my painting was a better choice that keeping it.
I had to have faith.

Round II, Day 1: Appetite for Adventure

2010-02-27T11:36:00.000-08:00

I took a couple days off before beginning round two of gifts. I think my brain hurt. And I think I was overthinking the whole thing.
So, for day one of round two, I am concentrating on making life an adventure.
Today, on the way to my grandma's house, the boys and I did something I have been promising for a while. We had lunch at an oasis.
Now, we were only traveling from Channahon to Westchester, but there is something about an oasis that always makes me think of a road trip. I am pretty sure that is just a thing for me because, as a kid, we went to Boston every summer. Every year, my grandmother, mom and I would pile in the giant car she drove back then and hit the road. EARLY. Like, before 5 a.m. I was not a morning person then and I am not now. There were always oasis(es). So, it makes me think of the good childhood memories.
For, my kids, though, there is not a lot of that reference. We have gone on little vacations, but no major road trips...yet.
So, for them, it was just eating dinner...but it was eating dinner above the highway. Sitting on the barstools. Watching the traffic drive under us.
They thought it was pretty cool. And, it did not hurt that they got to play a couple claw games when we got there either.
I got additional amusement as I sat there and people watched. I assumed the other people there were traveling. There were some families with small kids, dressed in pajamas. There was also what looked like a small busload of high school students.
But, then, I was not traveling, not really. And, yet, Nate was there, dressed in Pokemon pajamas. (this is the kid who often will not change out of his superman or spiderman pajama shirt). So, they probably assumed the same about me.
It led me to think about Jeri Palmer, a woman whose story I told while she was in Hospice and after she passed away. She said her mother told her that you should always be nice to people, even if they are not nice to you, because you never know what they have going on in their lives.
We make a lot of assumptions about people. Sometimes, we are right. Sometimes we are wrong.
I wasn't on a cross country trip, but I was taking my kids to see their grandparents. I wasn't on a vacation. But, I was on an adventure.
D

Dec. 28: Free, but meaningful

2010-02-20T11:34:00.000-08:00

I covered a retreat today for a paper. I love these kind of assignments, cause I get to jump right into the fun the ladies are having, take advantage of some relaxation and usually learn a thing or two. Today, I did jump in for a short massage, which, while nice, was not nearly enough to relax my posture. Those of you who know me well know that I have muscles that need a hammer to get through to.
Anyway, I also was lucky enough to get a manicure today. And my nails do look amazing, especially considering I have been biting the hell out of them lately.
The lady doing my manicure was not sure what was in her lotion, so she used the one I had grabbed a free sample of upstairs so I knew there was nothing in it that would irritate my skin. You would be amazed at the amount of lotions that contain nut oil (and just as a shout-out for Dulci, red dye 40 too).
I told her they were giving away samples upstairs because she was commenting that it was a nice lotion because it was thick.
She said she was going to try to get upstairs and grab some.
I've been a vendor before at these kinds of events. You rarely have time to run and grab free samples from other tables. You have to stay where you. And, when you finally do have time, they usually run out of whatever they were giving away.
With that in mind, I went back to the table later, grabbed a sample for her and brought it downstairs.
It did not cost me anything. It was just a nice gesture.
Today is day 28. Tomorrow would be the last day for me. I don't think I am stopping, though. I have a lot of work to do to shift my former living-in-the-negative energy to my future Thank you-thank you- thank you energy.
I have a plan for tomorrow.
But, more than that, I have a plan to keep going.
Besides, I owe a good friend of mine a statue of a virgin.
Blessings

Feb 25: The gift of youth

2010-02-17T11:33:00.000-08:00

I was covering a school board meeting last month and while the board was debating something I was not interested in, I was inspired. I was watching these poor kids who are in middle school, which for me was the worst time of my life. I watched as they cheered louder for some students as their names were callled - for student of the month, or for cheerleading or for soccer - and less loudly for others. I began to think about what we think about when we are young. The world is hopeful, sometimes even if life at home is not. We think about how we are going to grow up and change the world. So, I began writing, not a story about the school board at all, but, rather, lyrics to a song.
The original song is L.A. Song by Beth Hart. You can listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SrZw8RToN2Y Here are my inspired lyrics:

She was a girl, just a girl
With her eyes on the sky and her heart in the world
She didn't know, She didn't know
She thought it didn't matter which way she would go
So she walked and she walked, she walked and she walked
She walked so much her shoes fell apart
Be she kept on, she kept on, kept on, she kept on
Pressed through the dusk and the night and the dawn

She thinks, Man, I wanna grow up and leave home
man I wanna grow up was her plea
man I wanna grow up and leave home
wanna grow up and wanna be free

She fell in love, she fell in love,
And while it was staggering, it wasn't enough
She couldn't see, she couldn't see
She couldn't hear a thing beyond her own glea
So she sang and she sang, she sang and she sang,
She sang so much she might go insane
then she cried and she cried, she cried and she cried
for the birds in the branches echoed her pain

She thinks, Man, I wanna grow up and leave home
man I wanna grow up was her plea
man I wanna grow up and leave home
wanna grow up and wanna be free

It's all she saw
it's all she knew
It's what she knew to do
Life's wonder-filled
When you're a girl
There's hope in all the world

So she took a step, she took a step
She moved so far forward, she nearly leapt
She looked ahead, she looked ahead
She knew she would go where she was led
So she grew and she grew, she grew and she grew
She hoped so much she made it through
She was blessed, she was blessed, was blessed, she was blessed
So much so she forgot all the rest

It's all she saw
It's all she knew
It's what she knew to do
Life's wonder-filled
When you're a girl
There's hope in all the world

She said, Man I'm gonna grow up and leave home
Man, I'm gonna live, breathe and play
man I'm gonna grow up and leave home
she walked outta her youth and into today

Day 20: To remain a mystery

2010-02-13T11:29:00.000-08:00

I have given away many gifts in the past 19 days. Most of the time, I knew the person I was giving a gift to. There were a couple strangers, and that was very rewarding, but I usually talked myself out of giving to strangers. I was worried that they might think I was stalking them and call the cops or something. In fact, I talked myself out of putting a flower on a stranger's car once because I was worried they would think they had a stalker...someday I am going to put a bunch of flowers on a bunch of cars in the same lot in the hopes I can avoid this problem.
Today, though, I gave a gift to a person who is a friend of a friend and who is going through a transition in her life. I do not know her and have never met her.
The idea for this gift came while I was at a Reiki share, so I would like to think it was divinely inspired.
Over the years, I have bought a number of stone charms that have attributes to help with specific challenges in my life. One was an ametrine, an amethyst stone that is turning into a citrine. Since it is naturally occurring, it is a stone already in transition itself.
The stone is supposed to give the wearer protection and strength.
When I gave this to our mutual friend, I did not specify that they say it came from me. I just wanted her to have the gift. If she thought it came from the person delivering it, that was fine. That was just something I was adding to my strengths - giving with no recognition in return.
I hope she at least thinks the stone is pretty. But, stones don't really give us power, they remind us to find our own. So, I hope she finds her own strength...
And to you all, Joy...Joy and Magic.
D

Day 18: Finnegan, begin again

2010-02-10T11:28:00.000-08:00

I am sure that I gave away many gifts in the past three days. Problem is, only one stands out in my mind. For those of you who have been following this experiment, you will remember that I spent Sunday helping my mom clean out her bedroom and left exhausted. Maybe that's why I cannot remember anything specific, save for one...
Yesterday, when the snow was falling pretty well, I had an appointment in Joliet. On the way into the building, the Fed Ex man held the door for me.
"Thanks," I said.
"Oh and drive safely."
The only reason it stands out in my mind is because he seemed so surprized about me wishing him safe travels.
The author of 29 Gifts says when you think you have missed a day, you most asssuredly gave away gifts during the day and you just have to think about what those were.
So, that's where I am at for day 17 at least.
Nonetheless, it is a new day. I am sure I will undertake something exciting today. Day 18: new beginnings.

Day 15: Sometimes a gift really isn't

2010-02-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

I was at my mom's on Sunday. Many of you know that she uses a wheelchair. What she really uses is some sort of stubborn combination of a wheelchair and walker. When I helped her clean out her bedroom a week ago, we managed to get rid of five or so bags of clothes that no longer fit her. I put her remaining sweaters and sweatshirts in her hopechest and was able to get rid of the rubbermaid that was holding the excess.
Turns out, however unsafe, my mother balanced herself on the rubbermaid when getting into bed.
So, I told her we would clear a path on the other side of the bed, which was wider, so she could use her walker or wheelchair to get into the bed.
On Sunday, I took on that task. I would have called it a gift, and I guess the result is the same, but when I left her house, I was so drained that I was just angry.
Both of my parents are horders. It kinda runs in my family. And the problem is compounded by the fact that my mom uses a wheelchair and cannot, necessarily get to the things she wants to throw away.
Having said all that, though, I know my hours and hours of work on Sunday will only last so long until the room is back to the mess I found it in.
It's frustrating.
So, my mom got a clear path to her bed. But, by the time I was done, it was not given in the giving spirit...I may have to add a day or two to the end of this experiment to make up for these kind of days.
Blessings

Day 14: One is silver and the other gold

2010-02-07T11:24:00.000-08:00

You know how sometimes you can be in a store and see something that you know would be just perfect for someone in your life? It happens to me a lot. I don't know if it's because I like to shop or because,for the most part, my closest friends have very distinct style. But, I do know when I see something like that, I usually buy it and hang onto it for the next event in that person's life.
Truth be told, I love giving gifts.
Now that I am giving things away every day, I don't have to wait for the next occassion.
When I was helping my mom clean out her hopechest, I took a couple things I found. But there were two things that I looked at and immedietly saw my friend Jill. The first was a small evening bag, but it just had a style that fit her. I wasn't so excited about that, though.
My friend Jill, whom I have been friends with since we were sophmores in high school (I'm not saying when that was, you guys figure it out), is one of those people with very distinct style. She also loves to cook. And she's very good at it.
So, when I pulled a navy blue apron with oversized flowers and red gingham on it out of the hopechest, I knew I was giving it to Jill.
Short of a small period in my life when we lost touch, Jill and I have always been friends. When we were younger, she started dating a good friend of mine and she ended up marrying him. I was usually the third wheel when we were younger and she and Mark were forever trying to set me up with their friends. But, they never made me feel like I was imposing.
Back then, we pissed and moaned about boyfriends (ok I pissed and moaned, she was in love hehe), did dangerous things during study hall and dreamed about our futures. In mine, I was a famous Broadway actress. In hers, she was a faboo hairstylist. She is a faboo hairstylist. And I am locally famous, though not for Broadway. But, there is still time for me to be nationally famous :-).
Nowadays, the things we worry about are more serious. We are older with families and children. We worry that our kids will be the ones doing the dangerous things we did.
But, we still remain friends. And I know if I needed anything, she would be right there. And I hope she knows that I would be too.
It's funny, sometimes, to know that you have friends who have been around for so much of your life. They know the things you did when you were younger that you were proud of, the things you did that you were ashamed of and the things you did for the wrong reasons.
High School is tough (though not nearly as tough as grade school). Sometimes it's good to have someone in your life who remembers who you were then and can remind you of the person you wanted to be.
Your dreams can change, but you should never give up on them.
I am lucky enough to have lots of friends in my life now who knew me then. I was lucky enough to marry one of them. And I am lucky enough to have other friends who knew me in grade school, when I was even more awkward and unsure of myself than in high school. And some of them, I know, still have my back, even after all these years.
So, remember your friends today. You don't have to give them an apron. Give then a hug instead, even if it is across the miles.

Day 12: Energy begins to shift

2010-02-04T11:22:00.000-08:00

I told many of you in the post from yesterday (which I posted today) that when I left my friend's house on Wednesday, she gave me a gift. I had heard this was a blessed side effect to shifting your energy into giving. The girl who wrote the book "29 Gifts" talks about how people give her gifts every day now.
Today's gift, which technically was not my gift, but one I get to benefit from, was a prize in a contest. Carl won a contest from B96 today and the prize was an XBox. So, now our technologically advanced family has a Wii, an Xbox, a Ds, internet, and computers to play games to stimulate our minds, our bodies, or just let us relax. We are blessed.
I have been giving nearly at the halfway point now. I need to take some time to think about my gift for tomorrow, but the one for Saturday is already decided...I think it will be a ton of fun. Stay tuned...
Blessings,
D

Day 11: Skipping to sharing

2010-02-04T11:20:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, I skipped posting on day 10. I am sure I gave away gifts that day. In fact, I gave away a coupon organizer to a friend of mine who owns her own business to organize her reciepts for taxes.
I guess I just was not inspired to write.
On day 11 (which I know was yesterday) I gave a tarot card reading to a good friend of mine.
I have been reading tarot for more than 10 years and I teach a class on it on Friday nights at JJC (sign up, there is still space!)
Anyway, the one big thing I have learned about tarot is that you never read someone's tarot without learning something about yourself or your own life.
It's kinda like that with gift-giving, even if you are being as unselfish as possible, as one of my friends said, you still gain when you give.
So, I gave on Wednesday. And I recieved on Wednesday. In fact, when I went to leave my friend's house, she gave me a gift, a beautiful, purple scarf with a celtic symbol on it.
A day of gifts indeed.

Day 9: It's only fitting

2010-02-01T11:16:00.000-08:00

Today is day 9. In numerology, the number nine is the number of meditation and harmony. It is also the period of years when the voice of God is heard by a person if this person did not understand yet one of his lessons of life.
I got a text earlier this weekend that a friend of mine was having a meditation night tonight. I was not sure if I was going to go. But, when I got home, I was still feeling blech about my grandmother and the situation our family finds itself in. I was not in the moment, I was preoccupied. Carl was off tonight, so I could go to the meditation if I wanted.
So, I did. And that was a great decision. While there, I thought and I felt and I talked and I stayed silent. I heard other people’s opinions and I shared my own.
I have spent a long time not understanding the lessons of my life…but maybe today is my year nine.
One of the things I shared is that maybe what people consider God is simply everyone who has ever been and who will ever be co-creating. What we see as reality is simply our reality.
Tonight my reality was letting go of some unserving energy. It was allowing a little bit more positive into my life.
But, the most important thing was to take time to quietly process how I was feeling. To take out the emotion and turn it around in my hand. To look at it and examine it, but not to judge it…to let it go.
Happy Day 9….tomorrow (10) is a 1 in numerology. Let’s welcome our new beginnings.

Day 8: The best things in life are free

2010-01-29T11:14:00.001-08:00

Today's gift wasn't intended as a gift. But, the more I sat in a classroom waxing nostalgic about my own childhood, the more I though that one moment of my day was probably more genuine of a gift than some others in the past week.
I subbed today as an aide for a middle school special-need student. Early on in the day, she says to me,
"You're pretty."
"Thank you," I said, "you're pretty too."
I didn't think much about it until the day was nearly done.
I was sitting a classroom where there was a review going on, so I was not needed as an aide. I was watching a boy in the class who reminded me a lot of a boy I went to school with. He was quiet and nerdy, in a computer-gamer kind of way.
One of the other aides and I got to talking about how these particular middle school students were still kind to one another.
I thought about the student I was aiding andhow she probably didn't have much longer before the kids started picking on her. Maybe one of those days in the future, she will remember that an adult, who was not related to her, told her she was pretty. Maybe it will keep her going.
Middle School is such a strange age. Popular cliques start to begin to form and some kids are left out in the cold. I went to a school where we did not change schools at fifth grade, so those cliques were years in the making.
I know I, in the midst of being nicknamed cow and moose and the like would have appreciated an adult telling me I was pretty. Grade school was fairly miserable. But, it toughened my skin a little. More than that, though, I think it prepared me to be in a classroom. I can spot a bully a mile away.
So, for today, my gift was a reminder for one child to remember her own beauty.
And, consider this a reminder for all of you.
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL
Don't ever forget it.
D

Day 7: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

2010-01-28T11:13:00.000-08:00

Day 6: Have you seen the muffin man?

2010-01-27T11:11:00.000-08:00

Today, I made a batch of cranberry-orange muffins with the sole purpose of giving them away. One box of cornbread mix made 16 muffins and I gave away every one.
I made the muffins this morning, but waited until the kids got home from school to pass them out. This was not a thought-out decision, but more because I was so busy today that I did not get out of the house until then.
So, I happened to have great timing. I walked into the park district to pay for my kids' after-school care right behind a man with four Starbucks coffees. I gave a muffin to the lady at the front desk, asked her to put one to the side for the day-time reception lady and gave one to the man with the Starbuck's and one to the custodian. The kids took the rest of the tray and gave them away.
When the last two were left, the kids could not find anyone to give them to. Then, some people walked through the door and I told Nate to offer the muffins to them. The lady, whose face lit up when she took the muffin said, "Are you selling them?"
"Nope," I said.
"Wow, thanks," she said.
She walked away explaining to her children that Nate must have made the muffins in his class. No matter. Her reaction alone was well worth the muffins.
Today was also the first day I told someone what I was doing. One of Nate and Joey's after-school teachers asked what the occassion was and I said I was giving away 29 gifts in 29 days and I was just going to see what happened.
She said that was interesting.
All in all, it was a good day. There was sunshine. I fed people semi-homemade muffins (a couple right with their coffee). And, I made a batch of GF cornbread that while it did not turn out the way I wanted, is perfectly suited for stuffing, which I will make later tonight. A good friend said saving the GF cornbread an repurposing it instead of throwing it away was a gift in and of itself. Wow. Score two for the team.
Blessings everyone.

Day 5: Home is where the heart is

2010-01-26T11:08:00.000-08:00

Did anyone notice that it was brighter out today than yesterday...not quite sunshine, mind you, but maybe a little closer to the sun peaking its way out of the clouds? I'm just saying...the Universe threw me a bone. LOL
Today was rather quiet on the gift front...I ended up giving a gift of time.
Joey, my oldest, had an easy homework day today. He only had to read a story and complete a sheet of questions about the story. We did that together...but that wasn't the gift.
The kids have been wanting to play Scene-it for a while. The game is a little old for them as it is the original version, but I am trying not to be judgemental, so we played. And they got a couple of the answers right. Actually, Joey won once. Thank goodness for the Shrek picture.
So, since they liked the way the game was played so much, I asked Carl to buy a Nick version for the kids. Now, they will always beat me...unless of course some of the questions are throw backs to things like "You Can't Do That on Television." (I know Mark will appreciate that one).
In any event, today was quiet in its intention, but I know was important for the kids. Some of my best memories with my family were times spent together, especially Fantasy Island and Love Boat night, when they let me drink Pepsi right out of the bottle!
They say the best gift you can give is time...
Tomorrow, Day 5...really thinking about this one...

Day 4: Bloom where you are planted

2010-01-25T11:06:00.000-08:00

The woman who started the 29 gift movement was pretty well-known for giving flowers to people. So, I took her choice as inspiration on this dark, dreary day and decided to buy some flowers and hand them out. First stop: Jewel. After I bought the flowers, I was going to give one to the poor woman who was working at the bank and whose unfortunate job it was to try to recruit new members. But, she was too busy doing her job - recruiting new members.
A little old lady was walking past when I was thinking about this and I decided to give my first flower to her. I followed her out of the store...
"Excuse me, ma'am," I said.
She turned around.
"This is for you," I said, handing her a flower.
"Thanks," she said, with a look of confusion mixed with gratitude on her face.
My next flower went to my massage therapist, who I had an appointment with today.
Two more went to the kids.
I meant to give away the remaining flowers to people at a meditation group I intended to go to tonight. But, it is icy outside and I decided that keeping my car out of the ditch was a better idea than trying to go to the group. Not sure if that was the right choice.
I gave the rest of the flowers to Carl.
I think my decision to choose flowers had to do with my desire for spring to come already. I know the first day is more than a month away, but it has already been a long winter, both physically and energetically.
Maybe I am getting old, but the cold is tiring and the cloudy skies are disheartening. I want to see the sun.
So, I guess today was not just a set of gifts, but a request to the Universe...
Dear Universe,
Please send a little bit of spring my way. Give me sunshine. Let the early flowers begin to peek out of the ground. Let me and those I love see a little bit of the new beginnings that Spring offers. Help me to remember that even though the trees are brown and leafless that they are still alive inside and will bloom again.
Maybe it's fitting that my first flower went to an old woman. Maybe I was giving Spring to Winter in an effort to get it to concede.
In any event, tomorrow is Day 4 and I have no ideas yet on what might happen. But the deciding is half the fun.

Day 3: A dollar saved is a dollar earned

2010-01-24T11:01:00.000-08:00

When I was in my second year of college, I would drive home to my mother's house about every other weekend. Like many other college students, I was strapped for cash. Sometimes I would take the back roads home for no other reason than I had no money for tolls.
But, sometimes, I trusted in the Universe to give me toll money. More realistically, I trusted that enough people had missed the basket and that I could put together the then 40 cent toll with the change I found on the ground.
When I got a good job and before the days of IPass, I used to pay double tolls occassionally, paying for the person behind me in line.
It was with this in mind that I decided on my gift for day 3. Times have changed and many Illinois residents rely on IPass. But there are still those from out of state who drive through our tollbooths and have to pay double the toll because they do not have an IPass.
First toll I went through today, I stopped and said to the toll lady, "I have an IPass, but I would like to pay for the next person who comes through the tollbooth."
She laughed at me and said it would be a while before anyone else passed through. No matter to me...someone was going to get a free pass.
My kids were in the car with me. They asked me why I did that. So, I explained that I was giving 29 gifts in 29 days. Nathan and Joey both agreed that I should do it more often. I had one more toll before home, so I did it twice today.
When I used to do this back in the day, I used to wonder about the person who was behind me in the toll. What was their story? Did they really need someone to pay for that toll? Were they planning to ask the toll lady or man for an envelope so they could mail their toll in later?
I would like to think that the people who got one free toll today really needed it.
But, that's not the point. Someone got a toll as a gift today. And I was happy to give it.

Day 2: giving with love

2010-01-23T11:00:00.000-08:00

Going into day two, I had nothing in particular planned. After my experience with day 1, I thought maybe part of the lesson in this gift experience is to learn to go with the flow. So, I did. And it was late evening before the idea for day two came to me.
I was at Target and thinking about it. I thought I could buy candy and leave it on a stranger's car in the parking lot. But, then I thought, and I am not kidding, that I would not know if the owner of that car might have a stalker or something and I would scare the crap out of them. Then I thought I could buy a bag of candy and start handing it out to people...but that has the creepy factor too. But I did file away another take on this idea for another day.
So, I am wandering around Target when I pass the card eisle. Ahhh, inspiration.
Many of you know my grandmother has dementia and is in an assisted living facility. I have not made time to go see her this week. But, while cleaning out her house with the help of my family, I have learned just how much cards and letters meant to her. I think she kept every one she ever got.
So, I added to her clutter and wrote her a card.
Now, there are no rules to this experiment, but this gift (and the other cards I was inspired to buy) will not be recieved for two or three days. I think that's okay.
But, for good measure, I made sure to give my kids some extra time (much of it spent cuddling) today. We bought a cake mix and brought a cake to my mom's house and I also brought a salad to dinner.
I said there was going to be a lot of food being given. :-)
But, my plan for day 3 has NOTHING to do with food. I have been planning this one since the Universe told me to feed the fingerprint lady. So, stay tuned.

Surprise

2010-01-22T10:57:00.000-08:00

Okay, so, the universe sometimes throws us a curveball. In this case, the curveball came in the form of a boxed lunch of sorts for a lady taking my fingerprints. Now, before you all get up in arms, I was getting fingerprinted for the observation portion of my master's degree. I am already a substitute teacher and, therefore, have already been fingerprinted, but bureaucratic bs being what it is...I digress...
Back to gratitude...
So, I show up for fingerprints at 12:15...they close at 12:30 for lunch. This would have been fine, but I was the fourth person in the waiting room. When the lady finished my fingerprints, she said, "well, I guess there is no time for lunch."
"Oh, jeesh, sorry," I said.
I left, walked out to my car and started to think.
So, the whole purpose of this experiment is to give. And this was a giving opportunity.
I went to Dominick's and bought her a sandwich, orange and bottle of water. By the time I made it back, she had found a way to get lunch, she was already eating...ah, well, I said, keep it for dinner.
Then, I left.
I did not want this to be my gift in a way, because she recognized my name and knew who I was, even if only by verse.
A gift is a gift though. And, I just want to see where I land at the end of this and be open to whatever happens. So, no second guessing.
And so, day one: a sandwich, orange and water. And, a reminder, that despite the best intentions, sometimes the best thing you can do for another human is feed them. :-)
In giving.
D

Shifting into giving

2010-01-22T07:14:00.000-08:00

About a week ago, Carl showed me a video of Cami Walker, an MS patient who changed her life by giving 29 gifts in 29 days. I was intrigued. I put it on the back burner in my brain. And, I thought about it.
Basically, Cami was diagnosed with MS, and was advised by a spiritual advisor to give 29 gifts in 29 days. The idea was if Cami began to concentrate on what she can give other people each day, she would shift her energy. She said it began to work, she began to feel better. You can learn more about her and her project at www.29gifts.org.
Many of you know my mom has MS. So, it struck me because of that. More than that, though, I am intrigued by the idea that she shifted her energy by one simple act every day.
So, I decided, I am doing it, too.
Gratefully, I am healthy. And, I do have a tendency to live in my head. I think about things even after I have found solutions to problems. Maybe shifting my energy will mean getting out of my own head and in the process, helping other people.
So, since I am a writer, you guys will all get to see what happens firsthand. I will write about the gifts I give the day after I give them.
Today is day one. I sat in bed this morning thinking about what I would do today. I have already decided. But, you all have to wait until tomorrow to find out what I did.

The Bridge

2010-01-04T11:42:00.000-08:00

"I will build a bridge," she said
And did so in her mind
She picked the finest wood they had
the finest she could find
The nails she chose were sharp and strong
And stood up under pressure
For they would hold through right and wrong
While she sought out her treasure
He was waiting on the other side
He'd been waiting there awhile
So, she took off her foolish pride
And faced her inner trial
She picked up the hammer and nails and wood
And she got right to work
She would do the best she could
Through clear skies, fog and murk
Because it wasn't just about a man
She thought as she put on her gloves
It was about her heart, her soul and her plan
Her capacity to love
She would build the bridge across the tide
Though deep inside she knew
He may not be on the other side
But, she had to follow through
She built and built and built some more
In light of day and dark of night
Though often at her heart it tore
That she would do something that wasn't right
And when the bridge was done
What a sight it was to see
She stood on her shore, party of one
And said, "I did it, just me."
She stood and gazed across the way
But her structure blocked her view
She could have paused to hope or pray
But deep inside she knew
She could no longer see
If he was on the other shore
She took a moment just to be
But she knew that there was more
She took off her gloves and sighed
She was at a loss
In order to get to the other side,
She would have to cross.

Towering Spirit

2009-09-11T23:01:00.001-07:00

I will never forget the words I said when the first World Trade Center tower collapsed. I will also never feel good about it. I was a writer at a weekly newspaper on Sept. 11, 2001. I was also six months pregnant. I saw the planes hit the towers at my grandmother's house, where I was staying at the time. By the time I got to work, everyone was staring at the televsion in the newsroom, open mouthed, barely blinking.
In between the moments of television newsreporting, there were comments and discussion about what we, as a weekly newspaper, should do next.
Then the first tower fell.
As I am sure was the case all over the world, we all gasped. Collectively.
Chatter began about the lives that would be lost and what a tragedy we were all watching. That's when I spoke.
"But, don't you think they would have gotten everyone out of the building by now?"
Of course, I had no way to know that the emergency services at the time were telling people to stay in the tower. I had no way of knowing what was really going on in NYC.
Maybe I really am a cockeyed optomist, because I really thought that everyone would have evacuated.
Today, eight years later, as I sit on my couch and watch the History Channel, I think I was not alone in thinking that. I am hearing other people saying it.
I also know that then, as now, I would have been like one of the cameramen who was interviewed, had I been there. I would have rushed toward the towers, or pointed a camera in that direction, or spoken to the people on the street. Not for the noble job of saving others or rescuing, but rather for chronicalling the incident.
For some of us, news is in our blood. When the tornado sirens go off, we go outside to see what the sky looks like. When there is flooding, we strap on rain boots. When there is an accident or a crime, we rush toward the scene.
Part of me fears this is a dying art. But, again, as I sit and watch the shows on the History Channel, I cannot help but appreciate those who rushed forward with cameras. Those who captured the raw footage, the human reactions, the faces of those who were there. They are heroes in a different way. They memorialized sights, sounds and, in some cases, the last glimpses of people who were there.
In one case, a cameraman caught a whole company of firefighters heading in...a whole company that never headed out.
Eight years ago, I was worried for the future of the world, a world into which I was bringing a baby. I had no idea what the days, months, years would bring.
I wondered, standing there in front of the television in a newsroom, what kind of world my son would see.
Today, there has been tragedy. Many lives were lost, not only in the tragedy, but in the ensuing wars. But there has also been the strength of human character. There has been healing, in individuals and as a country.
I hope the lessons that we learned on 9-11 - to trust your instinct, to prepare and to help others - will grow more and more. I hope that by the time my sons, now I have two, are adults and have their own careers, that more will connect humanity than seperates it.
The towers fell. People died. Let us not allow the human spirit to fall and die too.

Squeezing the last breath out of summer

2009-08-28T21:08:00.000-07:00

At the begining of this summer, when we all had the hope that there would actually be some warm weather, my kids made a wish list. Among the destinations were the ordinary places, like the pool and the beach, but also camping, an amusement park and Nate's lone wish - to pet a deer.
We accomplished almost all of the items on our list.
Nate got to feed a deer. He said he did not get to pet it, but going back to the K Mine Park, which is in Godley, should be easy enough.

Our summer started out right away, with camping at Indiana Beach, which included an amusement park and a sand beach.

We expected that as the summer wore on that we would get to go to a beach in Chicago, but it never seemed like it was hot enough.

We also visited Lincoln Park Zoo, the Morton Arboretum and Six Flags Great America

We had a great summer. And we still have the weekends to do more fun things, before the weather changes to unpleasant cold. Anyone have any suggestions?

Don't wait to exhale

2009-08-15T13:48:00.000-07:00

In the interest of National Relaxation Day, I am posting a couple of photos of places that make me feel at peace.

This one is of a path in Germany, where I lived for two years.

I am alway moved by walks in nature. My two favorite local places are the path in Channahon Community Park and Pilcher Park Nature Center in Joliet.

But the place dearest to my heart of relaxation is in Pottenstein, Germany.

A vegetable by any other name

2009-07-28T14:06:00.000-07:00

I have always liked Farmer's Markets. Although I am not a vegetarian by any stretch of the imagination, I don't think I have met a vegatable I did not like. Going out to the Joliet Farmer's Market with JJCs Chef Michael McGreal opened up vegetables that I have never even seen before. Like Petit pan squash...I have yet to try them, but they are on my list. I took the opportunity of my trips to Joliet and to the New Lenox Farmer's Market to buy veggies you don't find in a store, like suntan peppers. The idea is that suntan peppers are left on the vine to ripen. So, a green pepper might not be green all the way around. Places where the sun hit the pepper directly, for example, turn orange or red. I bought one or two of these. They taste the same, but psychologically, I cannot bring myself to buy loose, non vine ripened vegetables, especially tomatoes, now that I know what I know.
During my trip to the Joliet market, Chef McGreal told me about the modern ripening of tomatoes. Basically tomatoes are picked when they are green (which is very tasty to fry up, but I digress) and then brought to a warehouse, where they are chemically ripened with a gas. The gas changed the color of the tomatoe, but not the taste...which is why the tomatoes you buy at a store do not taste the same as the ones in your garden.
I am intrigued by heirloom tomatoes and am going to begin looking for them. I will let you know what I think when I find them.

Why I became a journalist

2009-07-10T08:10:00.000-07:00

This original post ran July 11, 2008, nearly a year ago today. I am rerunning it because I am told these same people are out in Will County today.

The other day, I was reminded about why I became a journalist. When I was in high school, the administration decided to formally celebrate pro-life week. A symbolic display of paper booties was hung in the main hallway, statistics were posted on the cafeteria wall and a poem was read on the loudspeaker every day.
That poem, which I tried to find on the Internet, but could not, talked about the beautiful development of a fetus, but ends with "my mommy killed me today."
When we got to the last day of the poem, three girls in my homeroom ran out crying.
I was moved to action. Why was it necessary to make these girls relive what was probably the hardest and most gut wrenching decision of their lives? Did they have sex before marriage? Clearly they did. Did they make a decision to have an abortion? Yes, they did. But why, in trying to celebrate life, did we have to cause more pain.
I spoke up then, when I was a teen, because I thought the point could be made without causing more pain. And in speaking up, through my school newspaper, I got people talking, and administrators listening. And the girls who needed it, could get help to talk about their feelings. Back then, there was a better way. I believe there still is.
It was many, many signs of aborted fetus that greeted me, on the way to lunch, no less, on Friday afternoon. Did members of The Truth Tour warn me it was coming up with a sign telling me graphic images were ahead? Yes, they did.
But their display made me just as mad, if not more, than I was when I was in high school.
Their Web site addresses some of the objections they have heard and I would like to press them a little more.
1. Children will see the photos. The Truth tour wants people to know that is why they stand in advance of the protest with a sign of warning.
But I have news for you. Children sit in the backseat. I can not cover their eyes. So, you are forcing me to have a conversation with my child about abortion possibly before I want to. My children are 6 and 4. I should be able to chose when to tell my children about abortion.
2. It hurts women who have had abortions. The Web site says, "We try to help these women take the first steps along the journey of healing. Our display includes pictures of Our Lord which prominently bear the message, "Jesus Forgives and Heals."
Really, so you only offer comfort to women who are Christian? And, what about women who did not ABORT their babies but MISCARRIED? Exactly what will this do to them? The path to healing does not begin with guilt and more pain.
3. The Truth Tour saves babies. According to the Web site, protestors have been told by women who saw the display that they changed their minds.
What I am saying, though, is that there is a better way.
Why don't the same people who would spend a day protesting along the side of the road spend that time creating an organization that will support women who are pregnant and don't want to be? Why not counsel these women, connect them with places for adoption or support them to be ready when the baby comes?
Instead of causing more grief and pain, why not spur healing with a picnic of beautiful babies who lived because the mothers chose life? Why not support counseling programs for women who chose abortion, to help them to heal?
It is not enough to simply put links to these places on your Web site.
Protestors are doing it because they believe it needs to be graphic to work. The Truth Tour is a Christian organization, so let me ask you the most important question...do you believe, if Jesus was alive today, that he would stand on the side of the road with a photo of an aborted fetus? Or, do you believe he would seek out the women who needed help, forgive those who had chosen abortion, and counsel those who were pregnant with no means to care for the baby.
Jesus would have loved them. And you don't love someone by standing on the side of the road with a sign of death.

The strength of the past

2009-07-08T14:23:00.000-07:00

This ran in the Herald News on July 8, as a sidebar to a larger story about hypnotherapy.

In a past life, I was a woman living on the east coast of America. I was married to a man who once was a fisherman until he was called to war. He died in that war. We had one child together, a son.

I know this because I remembered it, but I am not sure that I believe it.

As part of my hypnotherapy story, I sat in Linda Herrick's office and participated in a past-life regression session.

Past-life regression sessions take longer than traditional hypnotherapy sessions because you have to be in a deeper state of hypnosis.

As promised by Herrick, I did remember all the things I saw in my mind when I came back to full consciousness.

"How do I know I wasn't just making it all up," I asked as soon as I came out of hypnosis.

"Don't you think you would have made it more interesting?" Herrick asked, laughing.

OK, so I admit the two lives I remembered were rather boring. In one I was a widow and in the other I was a man who traveled to different villages to repair things. In the first, we are estimating it was the 1940s, and in the second, sometime in the 1800s.

Whether these really were or were not my past lives I could not tell you for sure. I did, however, find the whole experience fascinating.

Herrick asks logical questions as the hypnosis begins: What are you doing? What do you see? What is your name?

What I found most interesting were the details I could remember versus the ones I could not. For example, the woman who lived on the East Coast was very vivid in my mind — the way she looked, what she wore, the things she was seeing. However, I can't for the life of me tell you what her name was.

In order to go to past lives, Herrick first brings you to memories of your childhood. My memories of the house I grew up in are pretty vivid, so I was not surprised to remember those. But one of my memories was of me in the front room of a home I do not remember. When I asked my mom to describe the place she and my dad lived in when I was very young, what she described sounded like what I saw in my mind.

I also found it interesting that my active mind kept questioning what I was seeing. In the first life I remembered, I saw a castle. And my active mind said something like, come on, a castle?

But in that life I did not live there; I simply could see it in the village.

What I walked away with was a cool lesson, no matter whether the memories were past lives or my imagination. In the life as a male, I was independent. I had no family and wandered from village to village. But, at the end of my life, I wished I had settled down.

In the second life I remembered, I was again a fiercely independent woman. I did not follow the norms of the day, preferring to be alone in my home rather than with the other war widows. Others saw me as a bit cold, reserved, but I was happy. And while I imagined or remembered that I was not affectionate to my son in the way I am to my children today, when I died in that lifetime my son was heartbroken. Clearly there was love.

So, in my awakened state, I remembered those emotions, the qualities of the people in my mind. And I would like to keep more of that independence from the past lives, but more of the affection from the current one.

Whether or not these were my past lives I was remembering, I would do it again just to see what would come up.

A trip back in time

2009-07-02T21:23:00.000-07:00

My family and I came back from a much needed vacation to Indiana Beach last week.

I think I did not realize just how needed it was until the tram driver said the park was celebrating its 84th birthday this year. The last time we were there was for the 80th birthday. It seems like it was only a year or two ago.
So, we really needed a vacation. And, we had a great time.
We decided to return to the campground we stayed at four years ago - Indiana Beach Camp Resort. At this point in our lives, we are still tent campers. So, after pitching the tent in the rain, sleeping the first night through a thunderstorm, mopping up the tent when we realized we had apparently either a) put the tent fly on wrong or b) put the tarp down wrong, we were more grateful than most for the sunny, albeit hot days that followed. Thank goodness my (sometimes) brilliant hubby made us buy an industrial strength fan at the Wal-Mart.
Camping was only a small part of the fun of this vacation. The real fun was found across the street, at the Indiana Beach Resort.
IB is a total retro experience. Many of the rides are the same from when I was child, but more than that, this park feels like it is only a stone throws away from when it began in 1926.
Maybe it was my visit to the Skyroom Restaurant, or the fact that I was visiting during the week when the park was quieter that made me feel that way. But, when I caved and bought a white, wide-brimmed hat on the second day to keep my face from getting burned, I felt like I fit right in. The kids must have thought so too, they kept stealing it.

Don't get me wrong, the park has plenty of modern excitement, not the least of which is the new coaster Steel Hawg. But, the laid-back attitude, the beach, (which short of the waterslides has not changed much) and the shops with the accomodating older ladies stocking the shelves might make you check your calender, not your watch.
This feeling, though, just adds to the fun at Indiana Beach. It's hard to really get away in this modern world, where we are constantly technologically connected. I found myself looking at my cellular phone only for one thing while on vacation - to see what time it was so I could get on as many rides as possible before the park closed.
We camped for four nights and bought a three-day pass to the park. This seemed like the perfect amount of time. We got on all the rides we wanted, rode our favorites more than once and wrapped up our visit with a ride on the Shafer Queen.
Indiana Beach is the perfect vacation for a family with small(er) children. My 7-year-old (although admittedly tall for his age) was able to get on all but one ride. My nearly-5-year-old was able to get on more rides than I would have expected. And they both had a blast.
On the way home, tent and enough stuffed animals to start a small zoo packed in the truck, they shouted out the window, "Bye Indiana Beach, see you next year."

Fun Day

2009-06-17T11:54:00.000-07:00

We missed the polar bears, but that was about the only complaint my kids had about our visit to Lincoln Park Zoo.
When we arrived, the zookeepers were explaining the care of the seals. So, we took a seat and watched their antics. It was not until near the end of the visit that we watched them through the underground tank.
Lincoln Park Zoo is free to get into. If you can manage to find parking on the street, (if you are patient enough to drive around until near insanity), the whole day can be free. This was our approach on June 15. I packed some snacks, but I did plan to eat lunch at the zoo. The zoo has a variety of options, which is good because I have some picky children.
What I was most impressed by at the zoo is their Children's Zoo, which is complete with a splash pad. No matter that my kids did not have a change of clothes.

It was hot out and it was fun day, after all. The Children's Zoo also had a really cool treehouse thing kids could climb on. Imagine a typical climbing toy, like you would find at a fast food restaurant, but, instead of brightly colored plastic, there are tree-like sculptures the kids can climb on. The treehouse also give kids a number of different paths they can take.
In addition to all the great attractions always found at LPZ, the zoo has a concert series planned for the summer. With acts like Sister Hazel and Five for Fighting, Jammin' at the Zoo is definately worth a trip. Just make sure you leave enough time to see the polar bears.

Animal Day

2009-06-11T16:34:00.000-07:00

The last days of school for my oldest son, Joey were a countdown of the alphabet. On B day, they brought Books to school and had a Beach party. Shortly after the summer began, we implemented the same idea at home and our first day was Animal Day.
We decided to go somewhere local. So, we packed a picnic lunch and headed to Pilcher Park Nature Center.
It made me think about what great places we have in our own backyards.
Before we even walked through the front doors, we began a nature Adventure. My kids, who are total nature babies, began analyzing a bug that was crawling along the front stairs. We went inside and washed our hands and headed out back for our lunch.
We ate our sandwiches while we watched butterflies in the nearby butterfly garden. When we were done eating, we headed to the kids play area. The officials at PPNC built an outdoor tic tac toe board, which left me inspired to build one in my own yard. Then, I came to my senses.
We went on a nature walk, saw a squirrel, a chipmunk, more butterflies, a dragonfly, birds and bugs. We tried to go see the frogs down by the pond, but the kids were exhausted. So was our dog, who had come along for a long walk.
We spent, probably three hours at the nature center. It cost nothing. And the kids had a blast.
Later on this month, is Fun day. Since the kids have a dentist appointment that morning and the dentist is in downtown Chicago (yes, he's that good), I figured we would check out Lincoln Park Zoo. The Zoo is free and if you can find street parking, the whole visit costs nothing.
That's the right price for this unemployed mom.

The Winter of My Unemployment

2009-05-27T02:23:00.000-07:00

I live by the seasons. If you know me, you probably know that. And, career-wise, this is apparently my winter. Beyond the obvious, cold, hibranating, quiet, it is apparently my time to do work internally, as you do in the winter. Here's the thing about working full time, the people you work with become your family. You see them every day for hours and hours. You rejoice with them, mourn with them, eat with them...when you don't like the people you work with, it sucks. When the place you work feels like home, though, it's awesome...until you're evicted...in my case, laid off. It's not so much the work I miss, mostly, probably because I am still doing much of it. It's the people I miss. When you leave a job, for whatever reason, people always promise to stay in touch. And, maybe they do. But it's never the same. It's never every day, their triumphs and failures, your highs and lows together, podmates to complain to and laugh with, desks to decorate on birthdays. Which leads me to my winter. Winter is a time to do inner work. To meditate, to work on the self. I feel like that right now. I used to write with the noise of a newsroom, people on the phone yelling, people passing by getting candy from my bowl and inevitably, enough talking to distract me from meeting a deadline or two (or three). Now, I write in comparible silence. The tv might be on, or music might be playing. Nate is usually asking for juice or a hot dog, or more juice. But, in comparison to a newsroom, it's silent. Apparently, there is something for me to learn here, in the quiet of my home, in the zen of my office. Apparently there is some lesson that would have been drowned out by the din of commeradorie (there's no one to ask about how to spell stuff either). Like the winter, though, it's lonely here. The snow of silence is covering me up. I find echos in my mind. I wonder what will happen when the ground thaws. Will I have found that I am enough, that the chatter was just noise and the true friendships were not limited by the walls of a newsroom? Will I find that there are new friends and new lessons and new families to be formed? Will I learn that everything changes and to not let go of the oars and go with the flow of the river would be to slow down my own growth?I don't know. But, for now, like those of us in the cold of the winter, I am restless. I want to plant flowers, I have to wait for the ground to thaw. I want to swim in the river, I have to wait for the ice to melt. I want to feel the sun on my skin, but I have to wait for the earth to spin to summer. If there is only one thing I know, I know that it will change. Winter will become spring and then summer, fall and winter again. I will plant, swim, feel. For now, though, I will write in silence...hoping that I am doing so to hear that tiny voice with the profound message that I have been drowning out for so long.

Middle School Musical

2009-04-17T22:35:00.001-07:00

My seven-year-old surprized me the other day.
"I want to go see High School Musical," he said, pointing to a poster of the production at the middle school in his school district.
"You do?" I asked, confused.
This is the same child who complained his way through a play a friend of mine was in that I apparently forced him to sit through against every bone in his body.
"Yea, my friend Justin is in it," he said.
"He is?" I asked, confused, since Justin is in second grade and this is a middle school production. But, hey, he wants to go see theater, I am not objecting. I was a theater minor in college and believe in the arts - so much so that I hope to teach theater one day. So, off we went.
The show, at Troy Middle School, was sold out. Oh boy. I knew I was going to be blogging about the production, and I knew the sooner I could do that the better, so others could buy tickets to the remaining productions. So, I hung out, figuring the worst I would have to do is stand in the back of the theater.
Luckily, though, Dee Engelsbel sold me two tickets she had, so thank you so much to her.
The production, well, I highly recommend you catch this one.
Andrew Willis, who plays Jack Scott is funny. He opens the show with a warning to silence cell phones.
"Miss Darbus has a zero tolerance policy and she'll take them away and you'll get detention," he said of the teacher in the show.
The singing in the show is quite good. Amber Allison, who plays Sharpay Evans and Matthew Verive, who plays her brother Ryan Evans, not only have good voices, but they have voices that blend flawlessly together. When they sing their first duet, "What I've Been Looking For," neither one overpowers the other.
I was also quite impressed with the actress who played Ms. Tenny and a Wildcat cheerleader. You might not notice this was the same girl, as Zoe Roechner morphed into characters so well you had to be paying attention.
This show requires a lot of energy from the entire cast, and they must have been exhausted when they were done, for they kept the energy up for more than two hours. This was perhaps no more clear than when the set changed from locker room to cafeteria or theater or lab, without leaving the audience impatient.
This was a middle school production, and, as such, had it's own flaws and places it could improve. But, having said that, it also had moments of glory, moments where, as an audience member, you lost yourself in the production. And, that is the point of theater, to draw you in and make you a part of the illusion.
As I said, I suggest you go and see this production. But make sure you buy your tickets ahead of time. This show sells out.

Have your secretary put this on your schedule

2009-04-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

For the past seven years, Suzie Stockwell, Wedding and Event planner at Joliet Junior College's Renaissance Center, has been taking time out to honor the men and women who keep their bosses running.

"Without their secretaries, the bosses wouldn't be where they are today," Stockwell said.

The Secretary Day buffet and vendor fair is set this year for 11 a.m. to 1 p.m., April 22. In addition to a buffet prepared by the professional chefs and culinary arts students, which includes grilled Sicilian-style steak with peppers and onions and a pasta action station, attendees will be pampered by a variety of vendors selected to give the secretaries an opportunity to relax.

Shana Laugherty is Stockwell's secretary. While she is taking the day off from her secretary duties, she is not spending the day being pampered. Instead, she is offering pampering to others.

"I love it, it's not like work to me at all," she said of her time as a massage therapist.

Laugherty will be offering seated chair massages.

"The chair massage is very beneficial," she said. "You don't think it helps, but when you're done, you feel better, even if it's ten minutes."

In addition to chair massages, Sandy Costa, of Foo Tribe will be offering Reiki, Dulcinea Hawksworth, of Little Black Book, will be selling hand-made jewelry and promoting her latest show, "The Vagina Monologues." (I am in the cast.) Linda Herrick, owner of Alternative Soulutions, will be offering hypnotherapy. And Mary Kay Independent Executive Senior Sales Director Susan Hohlman will pamper the ladies.

In addition to these, yours truly will be offering mini tarot card readings. Come out and try a reading for free and find out if you want to know more.

To attend the event, please call 815-280-1404.

To schedule a longer session with Laugherty, call her at 815-557-1727.

Ambrosial apples just the beginning

2009-04-12T12:28:00.000-07:00

When I was a young child, my grandmother would make the most amazing apple pie. It was just the right combination of sweet and tart. The crust was flaky. It had cinnamon and nutmeg notes and generally was downright delicious. My grandmother stopped making the pie decades ago, after my grandfather criticized it on the wrong day. I felt punished. I loved that pie. She could have made a smaller helping just for me.
I have never found one that was as good as granny's. That is until Wednesday.
I am a foodie. I love food. And one of the perks of living in Joliet is that I can taste gourmet food, prepared by professional chefs and culinary arts students, pretty much whenever I want.
It was at the Wednesday buffet at the Joliet Junior College Renaissance Center that I ate pie that immedietly took my taste buds back to my youth. I had two helpings. And that was after I had relished the offerings of the day, which was a Spanish-themed buffet.
The best part about these buffets is that the public is welcome to take part. Recently, the Renaissance Center added a daily menu as well. So, even if you can't make it on a Wednesday, you can taste the offerings of the chefs.
While the daily and weekly options are fantastic, they do not hold a candle to the special events at the school. The next event is the Spring Gala, April 19. For $95 you get a four course meal plus hors d’oeuvres, dessert and winepairings. In addition, you are supporting the scholarship program for the culinary arts students.
I have personally tasted the offerings on the menu and there was nothing I tried that I did not like. For more information on the menu, read my story in The Herald News.
Suffice to say the food is worth the price, which goes to a good cause anyway. For tickets to the event, call 815-280-2255.
If you can't make it on April 19, consider taking your secretary to the Secretary Day buffet on April 22. Watch for a blog on that event in the coming days.
Or, take your mom out to the Mother's Day brunch on May 10.
Happy eating!

2009-04-01T23:21:00.000-07:00

Many of my readers know that I am currently involved in a production of The Vagina Monologues. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, The Vagina Monologues, written by Eve Ensler, was first produced in 1998, with a benefit performance at New York’s Hammerstein Ballroom. The event raised $250,000 for local NYC anti-violence groups.
The production I am involved in raises money for the Will County Sexual Assault Services Center.
It’s a worthy cause and the message of the show is one that is needed.
As a cast member, though, the message that audience members will be touched by and hopefully take action because of take on a life of their own.
In the months that I have been working on this show, the very word Vagina has transformed.
The Vagina is not just a part of the body of a woman. The Vagina is the woman.
It bears forth life, takes in passion, bleeds and heals. It hides secrets and reveals truths. It is hidden, yet its mystery is embraced. It grows and changes and when it is called on to be strong, holds more strength than anyone, including the woman herself, thought that it could.
When you sit and listen to the monologues, cast members are not just memorizing lines, but are becoming the women whose stories they are telling.
As women, we want others to understand where we are coming from. We don’t generally tell our stories purely for the entertainment of others. We tell our stories so people can learn something, understand more deeply, be moved to action. And, when other tell our stories, they learn and understand and are moved.
Today, two days before our opening night, each of us in the cast is a different person than the day they auditioned. We have more compassion. We have more attitude. We are angrier and less angry. We have channeled our inner dominatrix.
The stories of women whom we have never met and whose circumstances may be more than we can imagine have become part of our stories.
We have become their warriors.

Go see the production. The first performance is at 7 p.m., April 4 at the Universalist Unitarian Church of Joliet, 3401 W. Jefferson. The second is at 7 p.m., April 25 at Ambrosia, 2771 Black Road.
Tickets are $10 for adults and $7 for students and seniors.
For more information on the production or to volunteer, visit www.myspace.com/artnite
To reserve your tickets in advance please contact lbbvday2009@yahoo.com

Because she said so

2009-03-29T16:19:00.000-07:00

My mother used to use the phrase, "Because I said so," all the time. It drove me crazy. As an only child at the time, and a very inquisitive one at that, I did not understand why she could not explain why I could not paint on the walls, had to put down the sharp knife, should not try to cross the street alone. I wanted more of an explanation than because I said so offered.
So, when I heard the name of the book by Dawn Meehan, "Because I Said So," I giggled to myself. Meehan addresses the reason for the name in her book, which will have you in stitches.
She, too, admits it drove her crazy when her mother uttered the phrase. But, Meehan is a mom to six, yes you read it right, six children. If anyone should be able to explain herself with because I said so, it's her.
I first met Meehan last year, at a bloggers' event for Adventures in Disney. I liked her as a person right away. When I went home and read her blog, I liked her as a writer too.
This is Meehan's first book, but she already has fans across the globe. Her first entrance into public storytelling was when she sold a dirty baseball on Ebay. The sale had 220,000 hits because of the story she told. She became a blogger and later auctioned off a pack of Pokemon cards on Ebay and had 94,000 hits in one day, again, not so much for the Pokemon cards, but for the great story she told about her kids.
Her book is filled with those stories. Be prepared to laugh out loud. More than once.
I giggled my way through the first few pages, but on page 10, Meehan had me nearly running to pee, I was laughing so hard. When she described what it is like to wake up, in the middle of the night to find a child staring at you, I could not help but burst out laughing. Every parent has been there.
I am a mom of two. But some of the things that children do to drive us insane, um, I mean to show their creativity, is true no matter the number of children in the pack. When Meehan talks about taking children with when trying to buy clothing, well, I guess you're going to have to buy the book to read about that one. I highly recommend that you do so, by the way.
To buy the book, go here. To read and subscribe to Meehan's blog, go here.
And, if you want to meet Meehan, she will be signing her book from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m., April 4 at The Book Stall in Winnetka. For more information on the event, go here.

Welcome

2009-03-18T13:27:00.001-07:00

Hello everyone,
Many of you have been my blog followers when I wrote under Cafe Aulet for The Herald News in Joliet. It's been about a month since that blog was taken down and I wanted to provide everyone a place to continue to read my work. Since much of what I wrote about on Cafe Aulet is still a part of my life, even though I am a freelance writer and not on staff, I thought I needed a place to write.
So, please become a fan of this blog. Send me ideas and information about local events. And watch for my review of "Because I said so," a book by Dawn Meehan, a mom of 6 and a blogger who will have you in stitches.
Welcome back everyone.