Good morning on another Throwback Thursday!
Four generations — my Great-Grandpa Somerville, my mom, my grandmother, and baby me.
06 Nov 2014 Leave a comment
Good morning on another Throwback Thursday!
Four generations — my Great-Grandpa Somerville, my mom, my grandmother, and baby me.
04 Nov 2014 7 Comments
So we made it past the Halloween shenanigans, and now the fast train that was 2014 is bearing down on Thanksgiving and Christmas when hearts overflow and gratitude gets top billing for a few short weeks.
In the spirit of the season I’m asking myself, Self, what are you most grateful for? I always like to get a second opinion on weighty matters so I asked my husband, too. He suggested that maybe I’m thankful I don’t live in my car or under a bridge, or that I eat good food at a table every day instead of from a dumpster. He may or may not have mentioned the clean water that flows on demand from every tap in the house, but it would be just like him to do that. I’m pretty freaking thankful for all those things, sure, and a comprehensive list of my personal benedictions wouldn’t have any place to end.
But I knew we had a winner when he said, “Well, you should be thankful you aren’t any shorter than you are.” For a hot second I felt pissed, not grateful, but I’m a realist and I’ve seen the pictures — I’m clearly not as height-intensive as some people out there.
After a careful examination of the evidence, however, I feel I’ve been mislabeled — It isn’t that I’m short, he simply overachieved in height-training, much as in everything else he does. And just like that, we have a perfectly legit place to start on this being thankful thing. I’ve GOT this. The Big Turkey and the Elf on a Shelf (I detest that li’l sumbish) are putting stars next to my name as we speak.
Moonbeam and Othello say hey and peace out …
03 Nov 2014 2 Comments
Poor Monday gets a bad rap, the short end of the stick, it’s the redheaded stepchild of the week, g’head, throw your own bad cliché into the pot. Monday is my official day to uncensor myself and vent, so you’re lucky I have very little to bitch about in any direction. By this point I have only a smattering of self-censorship left, so if I were to toss my last remaining constraints a whole lotta people who thought they knew me would be bailing out of this clown car. But riddle me this, don’t we all tend to be colossal stacks of filters from womb to tomb? And if you, personally, have managed to shed a few layers along the way, does that not feel amazing?
Why does it take so agonizingly long for some of us to realize that we can’t love ourselves if we’re busy keeping everybody else happy? Why so long to know that our opinions, thought processes, and convictions are as legitimate as anybody else’s, and far saner than many most? Why are we so … human? As you no doubt picked up on, BECAUSE YOU ROCK, those are rhetorical questions and you are in no way obligated to send me the answers.
So on this chilly November Sunday (yes indeed, overachievers do today’s homework yesterday) while I track a friend who’s running the NYC Marathon, I’m thinking about relationships. As a Social Introvert on the chart, my relationships center, in time spent, around people on Facebook and WordPress and the two forums overlap greatly. My core group of out-there-in-the-greater-world friends are almost all part of the Facebook zoo as well … so as Zucky might want us to say, “It gets complicated.”
I write about Facebook once in a while because it’s such a funny animal. Age and lifestyle differences notwithstanding, my experience with it seems to be basically the same as everyone else’s — we’re all looking for community, a spot to fit in, people to talk to and listen to, a place to say things so we can figure out what we really think, share funny stuff, and brag about pets, kids, grandkids, fairytale weddings, and vacations. However, there are some obvious differences attached to the experience: If you’re in it to troll, ridicule, hate on people, do harm to animals, men, women, children, or anything else that lives and breathes, including Mother Earth, or expose your (clearly amazing) body to the universe … then you and I occupy different worlds, thank god (except I’d take the body).
As with everything else, my personal Facebook and WordPress guidelines are simple:
1.) Since it’s my life/page/blog, I say/post/read/write/share whatever speaks to my spirit.
2.) I will never knowingly or purposely say/post/write/or share anything that would wound or humiliate someone.
3.) If you disagree with or are offended by anything I say/post/write/or share, then I encourage you to take full ownership of your newsfeed or reader and opt to keep scrolling on down the Facebook/WordPress Road. My brain flies in all directions at once and my tastes are ludicrously eclectic, so I’ll eventually get around to either pleasing or offending you and all the rest of my friends, possibly in a single post. Or you could talk with me and I promise to talk with you back, not AT you.
4.) If you’re family, going out as far as that extends … in-laws, outlaws, exes, cousins repeatedly removed … I will likely never unfriend you. However, if you’re rude I probably won’t choose to get into a discussion with you again either. Most of you in my gene pool are of the opposite political persuasion so I’m fully aware I can be a trial, but you’ve been pretty patient so far and it’s a matter of honor with me to be fair, to vet what I post, and to stay true to where I am on any given issue. You also know by now that I consider politics to be some of the most important stuff we can think and talk about since that’s what determines the kind of world we live in, so if you have to hide me, so be it, there are lots of other people here who share my passion.
5.) If you send me a friends request but never once say hey or talk to me or acknowledge that I’ve dropped in on you, my bullshit detector goes off and I start thinking about sending you to the cornfield.* So let me make this easy for you:
a.) Yes, I’m still married to that guy you probably didn’t trust, we celebrated ten years this past summer, and we’re still disgustingly stupid over each other.
b.) Yes, I’ve gained a few pounds, let my hair go silver, moved to a liberal outpost, and started living. And that’s okay.
c.) No, I don’t know why you’re here either, so we’ll probably be saying goodbye soon. I ain’t mad, bro, it just isn’t gonna work out between you and me. Really, it’s not me, it’s you, no hard feelings.
*Fellow introverts are exempt, of course. I know where you’re not coming from, and why.
To all who’ve been part of an adventure I’ve ended up living publicly on Facebook and WordPress, all the friends who were already in, have bought in, and/or hung in … thank you. You’re a big part of where life’s going — I have tremendous role models among you and find myself incorporating bits and pieces of your personalities, writing styles, mindsets, fashion revelations, food loves, humor, and more. I’m pretty sure Kim and I didn’t win Saturday night’s lottery, again … but how much could it matter in light of wealth like the above? Tomorrow the mid-terms will finally be over and we’ll know where we’re headed. And hey look! I still have genuine friends at this point, what a gift.
30 Oct 2014 2 Comments
My Aunt Bonnie, who was so very cool, my cousins Vickie and Bruce, and little me next to our grandparents’ house on a summer day, sometime before 1950.
29 Oct 2014 Leave a comment
After comments from Facebook friends like “I’m so jealous,” and “I want to MOVE,” I’m thinking I should add a disclaimer to yesterday’s post:
Lawrence is obviously not heaven on earth. All of life is what we make it, and we came here with a goal of making it amazing, to make of this part of our lives all the good we possibly can, and to overlook the negative. That colors our approach to what we see every day when we wake up, what we do, where we go. Someone else could come here and have an entirely different experience and wonder why they feel let down in view of all the “hype.”
1.) Life is what you make it, and 2.) no matter where you go, there you are — two clichés that are truth just because they are. Kim and I are making up for lost time — we met late in life, we’ve both lived places we weren’t wild about, we’ve both felt stuck in routine and longing for more “soul” food. We don’t have the luxury of waiting and hoping at this point, so we get up every day and make fun things happen, whether we step outside our own walls or not. Some may see my ramblings as bragging, but they’re my way of being thankful. I don’t want to wake up later and wish I’d appreciated life more when I had the chance.
Young people think they’ll always be that way — young. And some people just need to be told it’s okay to be happy — to give themselves permission to live, from the inside out. Just do it — regret is a killer.
HAPPY FALL!
28 Oct 2014 6 Comments
On a perfect fall day, temps in the 60s, sun shining through a light haze, leaves turning every shade from gold to purple, Kim noodling on guitar and finding melodies and chord changes that bring tears to my eyes, the house in just enough disarray to feel comfy, and our tiny white terror (nope, not a misspelling) running back and forth from balcony to everywhere else, I’m thankful for my town. Also all of the above, none of which would have happened without this town, except the guitar man.
We’ve been here a little over a year now, and it’s home in a way no other place has ever been. From the University of Kansas on Mt. Oread to the tiniest neighborhood we love it all. Lawrence is marinated in history, and as much of it as possible has been lovingly preserved — there are still rock houses standing since before the Civil War, and several businesses on Mass St. have original interior rock walls. Following Harper’s Ferry and other John Brown exploits in opposition to slavery (don’t get nervous, there won’t be a test), Quantrill and his raiders came through town in 1863, killing 150 men but no women and children, torching every house and business they could, robbing all the banks, and looting what was left. Lawrence immediately started rebuilding and the pro-slavery forces lost, end of story. The town is founded on that legacy and hasn’t wavered. Here people cheekily ask, “WWJBD?” (What Would John Brown Do?) The town’s beginnings were the roots of the open-hearted approach to personal liberty that permeates everything here and resonates so deeply with us.
We love the tree-lined streets full of dignified 3-story homes and whimsical “Painted Ladies.” We’re equally in love with the more haphazard neighborhoods, where every block is home to at least one artist’s studio, gallery, or workshop. A few more things we’re hooked on — Mass Street, with its blocks of stores and restaurants, housed in carefully preserved old buildings, all of it walkable and friendly. Live music all over town, plays, art shows, nice weather, rain, trees, great food, beautiful lakes, and the wide Kaw River, which is endlessly fascinating to us after living with a dry dusty riverbed for the past few decades. And KU Basketball, need I say more?
Here’s a small photographic sampling of what makes us so happy to be living here …
27 Oct 2014 Leave a comment
in Humor, Manic Mondays, Re-blogging, Seasons Tags: holidays, humor
A timely post from Ned. Ray Villafane, eat your heart out.
Carving a jack-o-lantern used to require little more than a pumpkin, an oversized kitchen knife, and a tourniquet. It was a simple matter of plunging a 10-inch French knife into the gourd of your choice and creating a triangle-eyed, square-toothed masterpiece of horror.
In those days, the trickiest thing about making your jack-o-lantern was deciding on how to light the candle.
Option one: Light candle, then attempt to lower it into the pumpkin without catching your sleeve on fire.
Option two: Put the candle inside the pumpkin first. Then attempt to light it without catching your sleeve on fire.
Option three: Accept the inevitable and just light yourself on fire, then go find a candle.
After a quick trip to the emergency room for stitches and some light skin grafting, you could return home and set your jack-o-lantern on the porch, where it would remain until gravity and molecular breakdown…
View original post 532 more words
27 Oct 2014 4 Comments
in Re-blogging, Wisdom
My friend Carrie Rubin nails it.
Do you judge a human book by its cover? Assign people personality traits based on their faces? Better be careful if you do.
Image credit: Microsoft Clip Art
New research highlights the risk of judging people’s characters based on their facial expressions:
Those assumptions affect how we’re treated.
For example, if we’re blessed with a welcoming expression, we’re more likely to be seen as competent and trustworthy. Therefore, we win elections, become CEOs, and bring more boys (or girls) to the yard.
Uh oh, spaghettios. This doesn’t bode well for introverts.
The article discussing this research features an example of an introverted vs. extroverted face (The Introverted Face). To avoid using their image, I’m posting one of my own. My apologies for its American Horror Story scariness. Lord knows I would never have posted such hideous self-photos in the past, but with age comes blissful indifference. And…
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