We're Through Being Cool

My girlfriend Mary just sent me this test which assesses how cool you were in High School (what crowd you ran with, etc.) vs. how cool you are now.

Share it with your friends to see if they've changed.

But first, click here to see if you're still cool!

I'm cool . . .

We Are the Champions -- My Friends

You know how sometimes you don't understand the gift(s) that life is giving you until everything falls into place and you look back and think "Ah, now I understand why I tripped over that hole in the sidewalk and spilled coffee on my sweater and had to go to the dry cleaner where I ran into Stella and heard about her car woes and then we realized with her mechanical abilities and my tremendous ideation capabilities that together we had the perfect solution for an all new flux capacitor"?

Well, that's exactly how I felt when I realized that, in addition to heaps of love, my kids have been preparing me to compete in something far greater in life than I could ever have imagined.

Color me inspired and awestruck. I'm already visualizing the "world champion 2008" headlines.

No time for losers.

My Treasure Chest of Love

My girlfriend Laura was in town recently from Delray Beach. We spent a little time viewing the permanent collection at the Memorial Art Gallery while the kids accompanied us on an animal scavenger hunt—looking for horse carvings, dogs in paintings, etc. We also went to see the hubby’s jazz band, The Steve Greene Trio, play at the Little Café and later saw his Podunk-punk band, The Chinchillas, play at The Cottage Hotel (a fun a little hole-in-the-wall). We inevitably faced the, “What do you want to do?” question for which Rochester has few fabulous options for repeat visitors (especially at this time of year). There are only so many times visiting the Pittsford “mega-Wegs” continues to have allure, the lakes are too cold to swim, the mountains are not yet snow capped for skiing, and the Maid of the Mist is docked for the season so why bother heading to Niagara Falls for the day?

We ended up late Saturday afternoon at Organic Alley, a fabulous local health market, which was having a holistic health fair. My girlfriend had a reading from an “intuitive,” while I sat on the floor praying to God, “Please put your words in this woman’s mouth.” I have a fear of mediums and spiritualists but this lady was spot-on in her dialog with Laura: not only nailing her raison d'etra but also giving her food for thought.

She then turned to me and asked, “Do you like to sing and dance?” and I wasn’t sure how to answer. I love to sing and dance but I’m horrible at both. I actually lip synch in church and, when I do sing aloud, people turn around to see what kind of mutant I am.

She said that my body was dancing and my heart was singing, “I have a treasure chest of love.” Laura and I started laughing. This woman proceeded to tell me that a) I work too hard, b) life doesn’t have to be this hard, and c) I need to focus on my talents—stop challenging myself further—and life will come much easier.

I came to work on Monday and immediately told my boss! Guess what, I’m planning on not working hard anymore . . . you okay with that?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh wait, that was last week. Anyhoo, here goes . . .

Things I'm thankful for:

• My family, friends, kids, health, job, life, etc.
  
• God
• The fact that I can go from indoor garage at home to indoor garage at work and circumvent some of the horrors of the Rochester weather
• The fireplace in my office (albeit unused)
  
• The holiday season and everything it entails (i.e., carols, lights, candles, shopping, giving, receiving, incense, warmth, celebration)
  
• My leopard-patterned, rubber rain boots
• Stinky's warm, furry, purring body
  
• Hugs
  
• The body's amazing ability to heal itself!
  
• Massages, facials, mani/pedis, acupuncture, etc.
  
• The full, pink roses that unexpectedly popped up in our backyard recently
• The joy of repeated visits from the Tooth Fairy lately
  
• Vacation days -- even (or especially) when they're spent rummaging through boxes and throwing out tons of useless stuff or donating it to the Salvation Army
  

While I was cleaning all this crap out of the basement last weekend, I found my godmother's high school graduation ring from Cottonwood ID circa 1928, my worn-out gingham nightgown from childhood, a "love letter" from some guy named Ian who apparently I worked with at Xerox but I cannot remember, an email from a girlfriend who died of breast cancer in 1998, a number of books that I have wanted to read and countless pictures of my hubby and me from 20 years ago, Brazil, my 30th birthday party, grad school parties, etc.

But the email from Gisella ripped my heart wide open and reminded me of how fleeting life can be. I burst into tears and Son #1 came running over. "What's the matter mama?" and I told him why I was crying. He then put his arms around me and said, "Don't be sad about her death; just be really happy that you had her in your life at one time."

So, yes, the main thing I am thankful for at this moment: all of my relationships including those that have now ended or are solely maintained from afar. Without them, there is nothing.

Eawaches

Son#2: "What does the cown doctor heaw?"

Me: "The what doctor?"

Son#2: "The cown, c-o-r-n, doctor."

Me: "Oh, what does the corn doctor hear?"

Son#2: "Noooo, heaw, h-e-a-l."

Me: "Uh, bunions?"

No Estoy Estupido

During dinner the other night, Son #1 commented on how daddy is older than I am and then innocuously stated to his brother, “Yeah, that’s why he’s smarter than mama.”

Whaaaaaaaaat?

Of course, the hubby is going to town with this. His response to everything I say is now, “What was that . . . stupid?”

I'm thinking of investing in this little number to improve my self-image.

When the Moon Hits Your Eye . . .

I cannot count on one hand how many times people have said to me, "I must know! Who is your inner European?" Sadly, I was never entirely sure until now . . .

Your Inner European is Italian!

Passionate and colorful. You show the world what culture really is.

Who's Your Inner European?

My oldest brother is apparently French. As he says, "Say it ain't so!"