Why Father's Day sucks

This is a repeat of a previous post, but it's still accurate.

I’d love to tell you all the warm and fuzzy tales about my Dad and our relationship, but that would be utter bullshit. There aren’t any. Growing up, he was always busy – working or playing golf with his friends, or going out to various functions. He didn’t sit around the house much and wasn’t interested in playing with his girls. I always wanted him to love me and he may have, but not enough to pay any attention to me.

Still, at age 11 when Mom and Dad started fighting openly and Dad left, I was devastated. My world crashed down around me and reality took a big bite out of my ass. Daddies didn’t leave. They stayed and loved and protected their little girls, watched them grow up, and then walked them down the aisle and passed them on to their husbands. They didn’t leave!

My parents’ separation was ugly. I remember screaming and shouting and seeing Mom chase Dad through the house with a cast iron skillet and a tennis racquet. It scared me to death. I begged them to stop fighting and my father not to leave - but of course he had to. He was caught having an affair with his secretary and in our very small town this was very big news. My Mom moved my 2 sisters and me to another town 250 miles away and we saw Dad occasionally for the next few years.

When I stayed with him in the summers I worked, either as a bus girl, maid, porter or sometimes at the front desk of his hotel. It kept me busy, but created long, lonely memories. I once overheard one of his employees commenting that I seemed to be a very sad girl. She was right. He didn’t know how to give me what I needed most – his time and attention. I was in his life but not part of it.

I went to college in the town where he lived and worked for Dad part time while in school. Having him in the same town was an advantage because I got to see him occasionally, I had a job, and a lot of people in town knew him and watched out for me. It was a disadvantage because a lot of people in town knew him and watched out for me. I learned to be very sneaky – or so I thought until he ended up having to extricate me from a couple of embarrassing situations. He never said anything except, “Try to be more careful next time.” I think in some ways I was too much like him for his comfort. I wanted him to love me and only seemed to get his attention by acting out. I acted out frequently.

We disagreed on almost everything. He was a staunch conservative Republican who boasted he never voted for a Democrat in his life. I was and still am a liberal Democrat and never tired of reminding him that at every election I was proudly and deliberately canceling out his vote. In fact, that was one of my prime motivating factors for always voting.

When I moved to Chicago the first time, because I was still rather shy and not assertive, Dad decided I needed something to bring me out of my shell and prevent me from being eaten alive by all those big city folks. So, he made me go to a Dale Carnegie course which was a good thing for me. Those were the type of things he did that indicated he might actually care for me. They didn’t happen very often.

When I went back to college and got my 2 master’s degrees Dad gave a party for my graduation and even told me he was proud of me. It was the first time I ever remember hearing him say that. I didn’t believe him.

He married twice after my mother. The first stepmother – the secretary with whom he had cheated - gave new definition to the term wicked . Unfortunately, she lasted 10 miserable years. She left for another man whom she thought had money. She had big plans for him. I heard he dumped her. Karma!

My second stepmother was wonderful and took good care of Dad. He still wasn’t interested in his girls, but since my sisters insisted, she encouraged him to get to know his grandkids. Since I didn’t have any kids, there wasn’t much reason for him to see me. They lived in Florida for the last 15 or so years of his life. In all that time, I was invited there once and it was a command appearance. It was his 75th birthday party and I was told to come, given accommodations and plane fare and then summarily dismissed when the big party with all his rich friends was over.

I dutifully sent Father’s Day cards, birthday cards and Christmas cards and he dutifully sent cards and money on birthdays and Christmas. Occasionally we talked on the phone but there was never much to say so we talked about my 2 sisters and their kids. It was really the only thing we had in common.

He died July 19, 2000. I cried briefly but more because all hope of ever having a warm happy relationship with my father was gone forever than because I was truly sad he was dead. His picture sits on my mantle, but it doesn’t evoke any strong emotions.

The ironic thing is – I look just like him.

The light at the end of the tunnel

I see it! It's faint, but getting brighter every day. Stamina and energy are returning slowly and my naps have been reduced to 1 or 2 per day. It's a good thing I didn't realize how debilitating this surgery would be because I might have postponed it and tried Voodoo or something.

However, it's over and my recovery is well under way. I learned:

1. I'm a horrible, impatient patient.
2. My hearing is selective (i.e., Dr. says, you can probably return to work part time after about 10 days." I hear, "You'll be working full time in a week.)
3. I'm a total optimist, except when I don't feel good and turn into a grouchy pessimist.
4. I hate being incapacitated in any way.
5. I'm going to start eating really well and exercising lots and get really healthy so my senior years won't be spent alienating all my friends with my crappy attitude.

Sorry I haven't been around blogland lately, but napping, sleeping, drugs and work have required all my energy. However, I'm going to start rectifying that tomorrow by visiting all your blogs and saying hi. Just hi for now. Since I'm so far behind, catching up is going to take a while, so please be patient with me. If you're really good, I'll post a picture of my uber attractive scar!

Hugs!
AW

Health update

Thank you to everyone who has e-mailed and commented asking about my health. I am well on the road to recovery, but it's a steeper road than usual. Normally, recovery is a quick process for me. This time it seems to be taking forever. My strength is finally returning along with my appetite, but soft foods still go down best because of the swelling in my throat. Stamina is an issue and the desire to nap several times a day is beginning to subside. Headaches, numbness and random pains plague me, but at least they aren't the same or as intense as before the surgery.

Forgive the irregular blogging and know that your thoughts and jokes have helped tremendously. I hope to be shoe shopping again soon!

Another reason being old can suck

If I'd had this surgery 20 years ago, I'd be doing cartwheels and climbing Mt. Rainier by now. My body always recovered quickly - until now!

So today, instead of taking advantage of all the sales and buying more shoes so Doreen, Polly and Robin don't overtake me, mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, enjoying all the Memorial Day activities and getting on with life.......

I'm wrapped up like an Eskimo on the chaise lounge, eating toast, Campbell's regular chicken noodle soup, tea, juice, bananas and water, popping pain pills because every time I try to wean myself from them the pain returns, wearing an incredibly uncomfortable ugly white collar, wearing even uglier anti-embolism stockings and feeling sorry for my pitiful self.

What a woos!

There is some good news. I took a shower this morning - being extremely careful not to get soap on my neck - and even washed my hair. Do you know how hard it is to wash your hair when you can't bend your neck or get soap on it? Let's just say an hour's nap was required after that. I also washed the protective covering on my collar and the lovely socks. They may not be comfortable, but they're clean.

Belle has been pouting for days. Every time I open the door to let her out to poo, she gets so excited because she thinks we're going for a walk. Major disappointment = major pouting!

Anyway, I could use some cheering up. Jokes, stories - hit me with your best shots! Please!

Thanks, Miss Snark

(This is early, but my surgery is at 0Dark:30 in the morning and hopefully the drugs will be good enough to keep me hallucinating all day. No way I could miss the opportunity to pay tribute to the great one!)

Miss Snark was my hero.

Her cluegun delivered stinging blows to stupidity. Her stilettos left punctured egos in the dust. Her kitchen sink had three faucets – hot, cold and gin. Clooney was her boy toy. Killer Yapp and Grandmother Snark provided aid in her distress – and vice versa.

Unless she was responding to a total nitwit, her advice was always straightforward. She gave us the facts – nothing but the facts. She didn’t sugar coat the publishing business. She presented it realistically and gave us the good and the bad. We gasped when she set her hair on fire – a sure sign another ultimate nitwit had appeared in her inbox.

Her Snarklings were addicted to her. Any recognition from her – positive or negative – could send us jumping for joy or down to the Nitwit Lounge to drown our sorrows. We trusted her advice and opinions and had complete faith in the wisdom she imparted. Had she advised sprinkling glitter on themselves and running down Broadway naked to guarantee being pubilshed, some of them probably would have. Running is not my thing.

For Belle and the late Rosie, Killer Yapp was the Clooney of canines. They would have done anything for him. Squirrels – we don’t want no stinking squirrels!

This blog started because I thought you had to have a one to respond to Miss Snark. After lurking on her site for months I dared ask a question. Her response was honest and informative. I was a nitwit, but she was gentle with me.

I entered her Ides of March contest and was thrilled to receive the "Best Suck-Up" award. The fact that she didn’t delete my entry was a triumph! That she recognized my ability to kiss ass was breathtaking

May 20, 2007 was a day of mourning in publishing blogland. From the day she announced her retirement until that final day, I was depressed. Like so many others, I prayed she would reconsider. But she was determined and exited gracefully leaving broken hearted Snarklings soaking in their gin.

Normally one year completes an official mourning cycle, but my heart is still heavy and the hope for her return refuses to dim. Thanks to Miss Snark, I had the opportunity to "meet" people in many different countries and made some wonderful new friends. She was and still is the greatest.

I miss you Miss Snark and Killer Yapp! Thank you for everything you did for us.

Please come back!


PS. Please keep me in your thoughts today. Keep repeating, “Sober, steady-handed surgeon!”

The Great Shoe Off

My love for shoes has not gone unnoticed. Apparently I'm not the only shoewhore in the blogging universe. Doreen Orion, Polly Kahl, and Robin Altman are having a Shoe Off. They each believe their shoes are the best and most stylish. They've seen my shoe posts and believe I'm an easy mark. They throw around names like Prada - starts with P like pooh!

Fie on them! I searched through my vast shoe collection and pulled a few meager entries for the shoe off.

You've met Vivian before. Red, comfortable and sexy. Did I say red? Sofft Shoe.
Don't know the name so we'll just call them black and hot! Alfani!
Sexy, silver sandals. And they're comfortable. Believe it or not - Naturalizers.

This pair makes everyone take notice. Nice straw look with a cute little flower. One of the least comfortable pair I've ever worn - but very sexy! What's a little pain? Lifestyle.
My newest babies - Charis. Comfortable, lightweight and yummy. Sofft.
Yes, I know we're only supposed to do 5 pairs, but I have so many great shoes it seemed only appropriate to throw in one more. Unnamed, comfortable, stylish. Ann Klein.

Take that, Doreen, Robin and Polly! Anyone out there brave enough to challenge me?

Shoes, Glorious Shoes!

First, let me apologize for not being active in blogland lately. With my upcoming surgery, there seems to be a never-ending stream of last minute details to which I must attend.

In March I posted about my new shoes and the epiphany they inspired. Despite how my posts may sometimes sound, I’m a humble person and grateful for everything. It took lots of hard work and determination to get here, but my life is very good – great job, wonderful friends, comfortable home, sweet dog, no debt.

I’m a lucky woman, but not in a winning the lottery way. My blessings have come through hard work and perseverance. I’m used to fulfilling my own needs, not having others help me. All my donations are done anonymously and I don’t expect thanks or anything else in return. I’m the giver, not the receiver.

The post about my favorite brand of shoes was done to express gratitude for all the good in my life. Imagine my surprise when an e-mail arrived from Katie, the Director of Media Relations at Sofft Shoes thanking me for the post and for being a loyal customer. Even more surprising was her offer of a free pair of shoes.

I was stunned and thrilled by the offer. How incredibly generous of them. I searched their website and found several potential additions to my shoe wardrobe, then went out to some local stores to try them on for size. One pair followed me home. To assist in the decision, I requested my fellow bloggers’ opinions and gave three lovely choices.

Decision made. E-mail sent to Katie. A week later the new pair arrived. Meet Charis!

Isn’t she adorable? The color is sun bronze.

Her new Sofft shoe mates were somewhat wary of her at first? She’s pretty racy compared to the rest of them.

After checking her out thoroughly, they had her pose at the front of the group before making a decision.

Belle offered her opinion, then promptly fell asleep.

In the end, she won them over and is now part of the Sofft shoe crowd in my cluttered closet.

Thank you to Katie and everyone at Sofft shoes, not only for making wonderful, comfortable and stylish shoes, but for your incredible generosity. I really appreciate this!

I’m a very lucky woman!

Things I've Learned - Lesson 2

It's often better to be happy than to be right.

When I first moved to Seattle, I was an emotional mess. Abandonment issues from my childhood caused me to live in a hard-shelled cocoon of self-preservation. I wanted to love and trust people, but didn’t know how and so was self-sufficient in the extreme. Knowing it wasn’t healthy to be like that – master’s degree in psychology – I decided to seek help. However, since no one was trustworthy, finding an alternate way to healing was critical.

During my first year in Seattle, I found a non-denominational new-age church. It was small, in an intimate setting and suited me very well. Some people at the church decided to start a Course in Miracles study group, and I was delighted. We met every Saturday morning.

In case you are unfamiliar, The Course is divided into three sections: the “Text,” the “Workbook for Students,” and the “Manual for Teachers.” At the advice of our original group leader, we started by reading from the “Text” and then closed every session with one lesson from the “Workbook.” By the time we got to the “Manual for Teachers” we realized it was probably where we should have started, because according to The Course, everyone is a teacher and that section was the most basic and easiest to understand.

Over time, we went through The Course from cover to cover several times – all 1,108 pages of it - not including indexes. The first time through, it was like walking through a maze. We’d round a corner and see what looked like an exit only to find a dead end which propelled us back into the labyrinth. We talked for hours about what it meant, reading one heading and sometimes one paragraph per session in our attempt to decipher it. It was confounding and confusing and frustrating.

There were times I walked away from our meetings thinking I would never break through the complicated language to find meaning from the words. But slowly over time it started to make sense. It was through our own united willpower and desire that we were finally able to break through.

I learned it’s more important to be happy than to be right. I never thought about how detrimental my stubbornness was to my happiness, and how hurtful it could be to others. Sometimes the things, about which I most needed to be right, were not very important in the general scheme of things. Simple things like how to arrange your kitchen cabinets didn’t really matter. I had to let them go.

I learned that the world is filled with love and happiness and we will find what we are looking for when we know what we want. This was a difficult concept for me because, since my early childhood, I’d never known real love and happiness. I had no idea of what I really wanted and how it was supposed to look and feel. There was no role model to go by. There was no list and no rules to guide me. Figuring out what I wanted was a seemingly impossible task.

I learned every person we meet is a mere reflection of ourselves. We can learn something from them all, and the briefest encounters or the longest relationships provide opportunities for us to grow. Since I didn’t particularly like a lot of the people I met, it was painful to think they were personal reflections. The most irritating part was, many of the people I disliked kept hanging around. When I finally realized the only way to make them go away was to actually learn the lesson they were here to teach, they gradually started disappearing.

I learned everything that happens is either from love or from a call for love. All the negative feelings - anger, fear, hatred, envy, etc, - are just a call for love. We can see things differently just by looking at situations and people with unprejudiced eyes. Instead of reacting to the negative feelings with more negativity, if I looked at them as a cry for help from that person, it was easier to tap into the love inside myself and return love to them.

Applying these lessons isn’t always easy, but over time it’s become deep-rooted in me and it’s more natural now to react from love.

Sometimes being perfect is really, really hard work!

My Town Monday - Seattle, WA

Early history of Seattle

What is now Seattle has been inhabited since the end of the last glacial period (c. 8,000 B.C.—10,000 years ago). Archaeological excavations at West Point in Discovery Park, Magnolia, confirm that the Seattle area has been inhabited by humans definitively for at least 4,000 years. Tohl-AHL-too ("herring house") and later hah-AH-poos ("where there are horse clams") at the mouth of the Duwamish River in what is now the Industrial District has been inhabited since the 6th century BC. By the time the first European settlers arrived in the area, the Dkhw'Duw'Absh and Xachua'Bsh people (now called the Duwamish Tribe) occupied at least seventeen villages in the areas around Elliott Bay.

The first Europeans to attempt settlement in the area were the Collins Party, who filed legal claim to land at the mouth of the Duwamish River on September 14, 1851. Thirteen days later, members of the Collins Party were on the way to their claim when they passed the scouts of the group of settlers that would eventually found Seattle, the Denny Party. The scouts for the Denny Party, Terry Lee, David Denny, and John Low, would lay claim to land on Alki Point on September 28, 1851, with Terry Low returning to Portland, Oregon carrying a message from David Denny telling his brother, Arthur Denny, to "Come at once." Following the instructions of David Denny, the rest of the Denny Party set sail from Portland and landed on Alki during a rainstorm on November 13, 1851. The landing party's first sight of their new homestead was the roofless cabin that David had been unable to complete because of a fever.

After spending a winter of frequent rainstorms and high winds on Alki Point, most of the Denny Party moved across Elliott Bay and settled on land where present day Pioneer Square is located and established the village of "Dewamps" or "Duwamps." The only members of the party that did not migrate to the eastern shore of Elliott Bay were Charles Terry and John Low, who remained at the original landing location and established a village they initially called "New York," after Terry's hometown, until April 1853 when they renamed it "Alki," a Chinook word meaning, roughly, by and by or someday. The villages of New York-Alki and Duwamps would compete for dominance in the area for the next few years, but in time Alki was abandoned and its residents moved across the bay to join the rest of the settlers.

When Henry Yesler brought the first steam sawmill to the region, he chose a location on the waterfront where Maynard and Denny's plats met. Thereafter Seattle would dominate the lumber industry.

Henry Yesler's house in the 1870's. Notice the elevated water pipes.




Seattle in its early decades relied on the timber industry, shipping logs (and, later, milled timber) to San Francisco. A climax forest of trees up to 1,000–2,000 years old and towering as high as nearly 400 ft (100 m) covered much of what is now Seattle. Today, none of that size remain anywhere in the world.

The logging town developed rapidly over decades into a small city. Despite being officially founded by the Methodists of the Denny Party, Seattle quickly developed a reputation as a wide-open town, a haven for prostitution, liquor, and gambling. Some attribute this, at least in part, to Maynard.

When Charlie Terry sold out Alki (which, after his departure barely held on as a settlement), he moved to Seattle and began acquiring land. He either owned or partially owned Seattle's first timber ships. He eventually gave a land grant to the University of the Territory of Washington (later University of Washington), and was instrumental in the politics to establish an urban infrastructure.

Real estate records show that nearly all of the city's first 60 businesses were on, or immediately adjacent to, Maynard's plat.

All of this occurred against a background of sometimes rocky relations with the local Native American population, including a nominally pitched battle January 25, 1856.

David Swinson ("Doc") Maynard, one of the village's founders, was the primary advocate for renaming the village to "Seattle" after Chief Sealth (si'áb Si'ahl) of the Duwamish and Suquamish tribes. Doc Maynard's advocacy bore fruit, because when the first plats for village were filed on May 23, 1853, it was for the Town of Seattle. In 1855, nominal legal land settlements were established. Seattle was incorporated as a town 14 January 1865. That charter was voided 18 January 1867, in response to unrest. Seattle was re-incorporated 2 December 1869. At the times of incorporations, the population was approximately 350 and 1,000, respectively.

Chief Sealth

My Town Monday is the brilliant idea of Travis Erwin. Please visit his blog for links to others who participate in this fun exercise.

Sole searching advice

Ladies and gentlemen – I need your assistance.

Okay. So this probably isn’t what you first thought when you read the title, but I did spell it correctly. I’m getting another pair of my fabulous Sofft shoes. I blogged before about my adoration of this brand of shoes and my nine pairs.

Not long after that I received the offer for a new pair. Call it a loyal customer reward. All I have to do is pick out a pair and let them know my choice. This may sound easy to most of you, but I’m a Libra and I tend to agonize over the stupidest things. Here I am – a woman in shoe heaven. I can choose any pair I want. Aaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhh!!!!

I went to their wonderful website to try to narrow down my choices and found several candidates to join my shoe world. However, I have slightly strange feet in that my right one is a 10 and my left one is a 9.5. Normally I buy for the right foot and do sneaky shoe tricks to make the left one fit right. However, 2 of the pairs I selected fall into the sandal category and my tricks would thus be exposed. So I ventured off to the local shoe emporiums to do some trying on.

I ended up with several possibilities and another pair of Sofft shoes. Meet my newest addition: Vivian - This handcrafted peep toe sling is versatile enough to wear for business or pleasure.

Yes, I understand I could have requested these as my new pair, but they were having a one day sale and the price was great plus I had a $20 off store reward coupon. How could I resist? I couldn’t and I didn’t! Quit lecturing me!

Here’s where you all come in. I have narrowed it down to 3 pairs and love them all, so I’m asking you to help me choose by voting for your favorite. Men, please join in. Your opinions are important too. Here are the candidates:

Charis (light gold) - Elegance and grace weave together on this charming kitten heel.

Lydia (copper multi)- This interwoven, braided sling unites a unique blend of extravagance and modesty.

Serena (deep purple) - With its delicate floral detail and patent trim, this pump can be worn to any special occasion.

Vote early and vote often. I want to send in my choice this weekend before they decide I’m some kind of deranged old bag lady and withdraw their offer.

Thanks!

My Town Monday – Mt. Vernon, WA

Note: This isn’t really my town. It’s about an hour north.

Hanging out with the old people

There are many of you out there who would argue that I am an old person since my 60th birthday is fast approaching. However, the people in our group on Friday made me look young. The average age was in the low 80’s. Some looked and acted it, but others gave me hope for the future.

It turned out to be a wonderful day. When my co-workers picked me up it was raining so hard we could barely see the road. But this is Western Washington and, as we say, if you don’t like the weather either wait 5 minutes or go 5 miles. By the time we were about 20 miles north of my house, there was no more rain and the roads were dry. It was chilly – in the 40’s – and windy, but we had cloudy blue skies and sunbreaks for the rest of the day. By the afternoon it was almost pleasant outside.
This was the 25th year for the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival. We concentrated on the 2 largest tulip companies – Roozengarde and Tulip Town. Their fields and gardens are spectacular when the flowers are blooming and they were out in force on Friday. For those who aren’t traveling with 100 seniors, there’s also a wonderful street fair through the center of Mt. Vernon, WA and lots of wonderful places to eat. It runs from April 1st through April 30th each year and is absolutely worth a visit is you’re in the area then.

Everyone had a good time with a few exceptions and those people would probably hate DisneyWorld. Total blasphemy! The tulip fields were beautiful and the salmon barbeque lunch was delicious. The cakes were a big hit, but next time I’m only taking one flavor. No more choices!

We left absolutely exhausted. You try corralling 100 senior citizens – many with walkers and canes – through 2 tulip fields and a lunch. Those little doggies have minds of their own!

About 20 miles north of my house, it started raining. Five miles further south it turned to snow. SNOW IN APRIL in Western Washington. That’s like a sacrilege. It snowed all night and this is what it looked like out my downstairs front window on Saturday morning.

Fortunately, this is Western Washington. This is that same view Sunday morning.

Anyway, if you tuned in just to see what life was like in college in the 60’s you’ll have to come back another time. I promise to post about that – when I’m in the mood. I'm old you know!

A huge thank you to Travis Erwin who inspired us to participate in My Town Mondays.

Attitude

This may shock you, but it’s raining and in the 40’s here in the Seattle area today. They’re expecting another 8 inches or so of snow in the mountains. So guess where I’m going? To the tulip fields with about 100 senior citizens!

The company I work for owns 46 retirement communities – many of them in the Puget Sound area. One of my many “other duties as assigned” is to help arrange outings for our residents. Planning for this event began several months ago and the money was paid, so we’re going.

I’m not alone with all these wonderful seniors. There’ll be about 20 staff members with me. Since I work in the corporate office, they don’t trust me alone with their residents and I don’t blame them. I would try my best to corrupt them.

When I woke up and looked out at the gray, rainy day, I was depressed. All the planning and organizing down the drain. Then I said, “To hell with this attitude! We’re going and we’ll have a great time.”

I have 3 cakes in the back of my car, the people at the salmon barbeque are expecting us for lunch, one of the tulip fields has a large covered area and we’ll slog through this with a smile.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to spend the day out of the office with our residents. They deserve my best and that’s what they’ll get today. I may have pneumonia tomorrow, but today my attitude will be great!

No matter what you do, YOUR attitude determines how it affects you.

Answers to Demon's and Bookfraud's questions

Demon said:
AW, I love the Minnie pic! :*) Hmmm, question. What genre(s) do you write in? Why? What do you do for fun?

Bookfraud said:
being interrupted is my major A-No. 1 pet peeve. it drives me batty. all i do is stew in anger when it happens, so my question to you is: what is a snappy reply to someone who constantly interrupts me?


Demon,

I’m in the cozy mystery category because that’s what I love to read the most. Since I was a kid, it’s always been my favorite genre.

For fun, play with my friends, garden, read, shop – just about anything that strikes my fancy. I’m pretty easy to amuse.

Bookfraud,

I’m not patient with rude people. I tend to glare at them until they’re finished interrupting me then say something like, “Do you think you could let me finish my thought before you interrupt me again?” or, “Now that we know your thoughts, do you mind if I finish telling you mine?” You’d be amazed at how many people don’t get it.


Anyone else have better comebacks? We’d all love to know what to say to these a@%holes.

Any other questions?

Answers to more of Precie's Questions

Precie Said:



Follow-up Qs:

1) Favorite Christmas ornament and why?

2) Favorite Disney ride? And have you been to DW to ride Mission: Space and/or Soarin' and/or Test Track?

3) Favorite Disney film?

4) Favorite Disney character?

5) What was that about a cult?

6) What are your biggest pet peeves?

Thanks for answering my previous questions. For some reason, I'm in an inquisitive mood lately. :)


1. Favorite Christmas ornament? Yikes! This is really tough. I could probably narrow it down to 25 - maybe. Some of them aren’t that pretty, but they have lots of meaning.

This is an interesting experiment. I may have to pull them all out again and see if I can find an absolute favorite.

2. Favorite Disney ride? A toss up between Space Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain. I don’t like the big roller coasters, but those small ones are great.

I tried Mission:Space once. I got in the car, they shut the door, the capsule narrowed and I started pounding on the door screaming for them to let me out. Seriously! I’m claustrophobic. The a#%hole attendant finally came and let me out and yelled at me for trying to ruin their millions of dollars worth of equipment. Right! Yeah! Like that’s gonna happen with my girlie fists. It was the only time I’ve ever had anyone at Disney be rude to me. But I was so freaked out I just hopped out of the capsule and ran out of the building as fast as possible. Probably won’t be trying that again!

Went on Soarin in December at DW. It was fabulous. Highly recommend it. Never been on Test Track but my Anonymouse Sister probably has. She’s a Disneyholic and lives really close to DW.

3. Favorite Disney movie? Animated – Snow White. Love those 7 little dwarfs. Live action – The Parent Trap – both old and new versions. Hokey but very fun.

4. Favorite Disney character? Can there be any doubt?

5. Cult. What cult? Who said anything about a cult?

6. Biggest pet peeves. People who pop their gum and chew with their mouths open. (Something my mother drilled into me with a laser when I was young.) Second - people who constantly interrupt others when they’re talking and finish other people’s sentences. I don’t have much tolerance for rude people.


Any more questions? Anyone?
I also give excellent advice. Don’t believe me? Just ask me!

Answer to Cyn's question

Cyn said: I want to know when you began writing and if your parents or friends, etc encouraged it?

Cyn,

I’ve been writing all my life, but nothing publishable. For years my life was so chaotic and unhappy I couldn’t finish anything. I wanted everything to have a happy ending, but since I never had one myself the writing was too hokey and unbelievable.

My family barely knew I existed. The only thing I ever got from them was amazement that I succeeded at anything. Fortunately, I was intelligent and street smart and able to thrive despite their disinterest. As for friends, I’ve always been a loner – never fully trusting anyone. It stems from my childhood. I’m a much better friend now and feel very fortunate to have many wonderful people in my life.

A year and a half ago I sat down and wrote my memoir. It took about a month to come up with 65,000 words. Parts are really good, but it’s not publishable. It was a great way to let go of my past demons and move forward.

Until now, writing has always been a way to release my emotions. That’s one of the reasons I took this class – to find a different focus.

I’ve had more encouragement from this community of bloggers than anyone else and am grateful for the feedback and support.



Any other questions? Anyone?

My Town Monday - College Years

I spent 7 years in college - 5 as an undergraduate because I quit once, worked for 5 years then went back and had to make up for some lost time, and 2 as a graduate student. I attended Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, Illinois. Here's some general information about Carbondale culled from Wikipedia and other sources.

Carbondale is a city in Southern Illinois in the Midwest United States, is 96 miles (154 km) miles southeast of Saint Louis, Missouri. It is known mainly as the site of the main campus of Southern Illinois University. The city is located in Jackson County, Illinois. As of the 2000 census, the city had a total population of 25,597.

Carbondale was named by founder Daniel Brush, who had aspirations of developing coal mining operations in the region. By the time of the American Civil War, the area had been incorporated as a village. After the war it developed into a center of business and transportation for the region.

On April 29, 1866 one of the first formal Memorial Day observations was held at the city's Woodlawn Cemetery, with local resident General John A. Logan giving the principal address.

Southern Illinois Normal University, a major factor in Carbondale's economy, which later became known as Southern Illinois University (SIU), was founded in Carbondale in 1869. Originally a teachers' college, it now has more than 21,000 students.

The city is in an area of the state known as Little Egypt.

In addition to Southern Illinois University, the city has a variety of unique cultural institutions and enterprises (culture with "both a large and a small C"). In addition to the university's PBS and NPR broadcasting stations (WSIU), Carbondale is home to WDBX Community Radio for Southern Illinois, the Big Muddy Independent Media Center, two daily newspapers – the Southern Illinoisan and the university's Daily Egyptian, two weeklies (the Carbondale Times and the Nightlife) and a bi-weekly (Heartland Women).

In addition to the University Museum the curious can visit the African American Museum or the Science Center. Food shoppers are offered a unique selection that includes a Mexican grocer, two international grocers, the Neighborhood Coop, and a thriving Farmers Market. Theater-goers can see both professional and student produced plays and performances at the university's McLeod and Kleinau Theatres, or attend off-campus productions by The Stage Company. A variety of fine arts are encouraged by the Carbondale Community Arts organization.

Civic action is fomented in the city by Carbondale Conversations for Community Action (the local implementation of Study Circles). Spirituality finds expression in Carbondale in churches of a variety of Christian denominations, as well as a Unitarian Universalist fellowship, two mosques, a Jewish congregation, a Sufi community, a Hindu community, and meetings of the Southern Illinois Pagan Alliance. The Women's Center, in continuous service since its founding in 1972, was one of the first domestic violence shelters in the United States.

I'll tell you more about life as a student there in the 60's and 70's next Monday.

My Town Mondays is the brilliant idea of Travis Erwin. Please visit his blog for more bloggers participating in this fun exercise.

Lesson 5 - instructor's evaluation

This assignment is about creating scenes, stringing them together, making sure each one builds on the one before and leads up to the one after.

This scene starts out with Anne arriving at the meeting hall where you create a detailed setting we can easily slip into. The light is on in the attic. As soon as possible, right away, you want to announce her goal in the scene so that we can jump on board with Anne, want what she wants, start cheering her on.

Since you’ve already opened this scene with Anne, you need to stay with her viewpoint instead of moving to Helen. You want to create one scene for one character, develop one conflict, play that conflict out to its crisis point, before introducing a new scene (different time, different setting) with another character, if it’s necessary to change viewpoints. You use asterisks to indicate a change of scene, but what constitutes a new scene is a new conflict, new setting, different time.

Helen and Jean rush into the building and encounter Anne right away. I’ve already evaluated this scene, and I’m not sure I have anything new to say. We don’t really penetrate Helen’s head much, and so there will be little emotional investment for the reader, I’m afraid. Whether you choose Anne or Helen for this entire scene, we need to know what’s at stake and what the character’s goal is in the scene.It doesn’t work to switch to Anne in the middle of the action like this. Again, this is the same scene, so it’s jarring to be inside of Helen, then suddenly inside of Anne. Can you see that at all?

Anne thrusts the door open and no one’s there. The two women are relieved, and you use asterisks to indicate another change of scene, but in reality, again, this isn’t another scene. Get rid of the asterisks. They’re not enough to cause a scene change. As I mentioned, you need to introduce a new conflict, new setting, new time in order for there to be a scene change. So far, this is all one scene, and so far, I still don’t know what’s at stake for your characters. As they start preparing for the meeting, I can’t figure out whose viewpoint we’re in.

We move to Ann. The man falls through the ceiling, but you’re in omniscient viewpoint here. We’re watching this from a distance, not inside of a character, so again, you won’t have emotional investment from the reader. The action is playing out in a vacuum, I’m afraid. Anne learns from Helen who the man is, and the scene closes as she tries to comfort her friend.

I repeated myself in this evaluation so many times about what constitutes a scene, I know I don’t need to say it again. I just want to make sure you understand why what you have here is all one scene. Let me know if you have any questions.

I bet you’re having fun writing this story. You’re good at using your sense of humor in developing your characters and their dialogue.

Lesson 5 - My assignment

Assignment for Session Five: Write a series of connected scenes (no more than 2,000 words total). These may be scenes from a short story or the opening of a novel, but they should stand together as a unit, even though they are part of a larger story. Try to include a variety from the types of scenes we've studied-narrative, dialogue, action.


The day started out perfectly and went straight downhill from there. One more meeting to go. At least this meeting was a social event and she would be surrounded by friends. Damn, she thought, first one here again. I need to stop being punctual. Aw, crap! Who left the light on in the attic?

Wide stone steps rounded by thousands of feet over the last 150 years led into the beautiful old brick building. The fading sunset glowed against the windows casting mischievous shadows inside. The attic was dark again so she decided it probably wasn’t a light – just the sun reflecting off the window.

Anne shivered as she unlocked the heavy oak door. Even after 40 years attending events here, the darkened interior still gave her the creeps. She knew every inch of the upper two stories and basement but being alone made her uneasy. As she flipped on the lights, the musty old place warmed to her presence.

The center was one of the largest buildings in town. Once used exclusively for Masonic groups, due to rising costs it was now rented out to others for meetings and functions. It hadn’t lost its sense of purpose and the rich dark woods and thick brocade curtains created a sense of formality

She turned on the lights in the main floor dining hall and was pleased to see the tables already set with festive decorations for the post-meeting meal. Red plastic clothes held white dishes. Large pink, red and white Styrofoam hearts danced on a sea of curly ribbon in the middle of each table. Crepe paper ribbons and balloons adorned the walls and a sign saying “Happy VD” was taped over the podium. Ann dropped her packages on the table and put her head in her hands. She made a mental note to have the sign changed before some of the older members arrived.

Overhead a floorboard creaked. “I thought I was the only one here,” she said to the portrait of George Washington. She went to the bottom of the stairs and called, “Who’s there? Is someone up there?” There was no response but Ann was relieved to see Helen and Jean both pull into the parking lot.

******

Jean rushed to gather her packages and lock her car. “Come on, Helen. We’re late again. Anne’s going to be pissed.” She ran towards the steps flustered at their tardiness. “Helen, hurry!”

“I’m too old to hurry and we’re not that late,” said Helen. “You take things too seriously. Relax a little Besides, who cares if Anne’s pissed? When did she become the boss of us?”

“God, Helen. You’re only 62. That’s not old. Quit trying to make yourself ancient before your time,” said Jean. “Anne became the boss of us when we elected her Worthy Matron of the Chapter, remember?”

“Well, thank heavens it’s only for one year. She’s a slave driver.” Helen could sense that Jean was not in any mood for teasing, so she locked her car, ran up to Jean, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her across the parking lot, up the steps and into the building, shouting, “Hurry, hurry! Anne’s gonna kill us for being late!”

They stopped giggling when they opened the door and saw Anne standing in the hallway, arms folded across her chest, peering over her reading glasses looking stern. “All right,” she said. “Which one of you is responsible for the sign?”

Helen blushed and Jean looked innocently up at the ceiling. “Well whoever did it needs to change it before the rest of the group arrives.”

“You don’t like it?” Helen said.

Anne cracked a smile and Helen and Jean relaxed. “I love it, but something tells me a few of our members won’t appreciate your sense of humor.”

The floorboard creaked overhead again and they looked at the ceiling.

“Is someone here with you?” said Jean.

“No. I heard the same noise just before you came in, but no one answered when I called. Maybe we should go upstairs and check it out.”

“Not on your life,” said Jean. “The men’ll be here soon. They can go up there.”

“Don’t be such a sissy,” said Helen. “Let’s go see what’s going on. It’s probably just the old building making noises anyway.”

“Well, you two can go, but I’m staying here,” said Jean.

Helen and Anne started towards the wide old stairs covered with the worn burgundy runners. As Anne started up, Helen sat down on the third step and said, “Maybe we should wait.”

“Wait for what? There’s nothing up there. It’s an old building and the creaking is normal. Are you afraid?”

“Yes and you should be too.” Helen’s courage was quickly evaporating. “How can you be so calm and complacent? What if there’s an ax murderer up there?”

“What if there’s nothing up there and we wait like babies until the men come and rescue us? They’ll never let us live it down. Come on!”

“OK, but you first. I’ll be right behind you.”

*****

The hall upstairs was dark except for the streetlight shining through the oak tree into the windows. Lemon wood polish mixed with stale wool carpet to create an old, but familiar scent. Anne knew Helen wasn’t right behind her, but knowing she was just downstairs gave her enough courage to keep going.

Hand trembling, she reached for the door. As she turned the knob another creak sounded. She froze – panic stricken.

“Anne, are you okay?” Helen yelled from downstairs.

“Fine. Everything’s fine, Helen,” Anne yelled, hoping to announce to any intruders that she wasn’t alone.

She took a deep breath, turned the handle and opened the door with such force it hit the wall on the other side with a loud bang. Quickly flipping on the lights, Anne was relieved to see – no one. Nothing was there but the empty meeting room, bathed in the glow of the new ceiling lights. She sank into the chair by the door and waited for her heart to stop pounding.

“There’s no one here, Helen. You can stop hiding now,” she shouted. “Where the hell are you? You’re supposed to be right behind me.”

Helen ran up the stairs laughing. “One of us had to stay behind to call the police.”

“Right, to report the other one was dead! Some friend you are! Well now one of us is going to have to set up the chapter room all by herself.”

“Not on your life. I’m not going back into that dark old storage locker by myself.”

Anne laughed, “Come on chicken, we’ve got work to do.”

Helen flapped her arms and exaggerated her steps as she followed Anne back to the lockers. “Bwaaaaaaaak, bak, bak, bak, bak, bak bak, bak!”

****

Helen started arranging the chairs and pedestals on the labyrinth rug. No matter how many times they told the caretaker how to arrange things, he always did it wrong. “I think he does this on purpose just to irritate us,” she said.

“He probably does, but at least we don’t have to lug those heavy old chairs or that huge rug out of the hallway.” Anne walked quickly through the room turning on every light, converting the darkness to the friendly warmth she associated with the place. The hall to the storage lockers was unlocked which seemed odd, but this wasn’t the first time. Anne opened the locker door and began gathering the paraphernalia to set up the chapter room. She filled the first box, took it out to Helen and returned for more.

Several items weren’t in their proper places and irritated she searched shelves and back of the locker. The sword was partially hidden behind the file cabinet but came out easily and Anne finished gathering everything and closed the door.

Other members arrived to help and Anne directed them to various tasks in the chapter room and the dining hall downstairs. The hour before the meeting was always a beehive of activity and she enjoyed watching everyone scurry around as the old building was transformed into a warm and inviting place.

*****

Anne stood at the podium and thought how lucky she was to be there. The meeting went well and everyone was thoroughly entertained by the story of the creaking building and Helen’s imitation of a chicken. It was almost time for refreshments and the smell of Pearl’s freshly baked brownies wafted through the air tempting everyone. Anne was pleased her day was ending on a positive note.

The Conductress closed the Bible and Anne said, “I now declare Peony Chapter #333 closed.” With that she rapped the gavel on the dais and a man crashed through the ceiling, bounced off the altar and landed on the floor in front of it like a beanbag.

Everyone sat in stunned silence for a few seconds before Mary Moran started screaming and ran from the room. Several cell phones appeared until Don Waters announced he was calling 911. John McKee, an EMT, quickly ran to the man and pronounced him dead causing two women to faint. The members moved away from the body, but couldn’t take their eyes off him and speculation about his identity ran rampant through the room.

Marion Sutton – who was partially blind and somewhat deaf – kept yelling, “What’s going on? What’s going on? Somebody tell me what happened!”

Her daughter, Dena, quietly explained the situation and Marion looked very puzzled. “What’s wrong Mom?”

“Was he a member?”

“Mom…”

“Was he a member?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t recognize him.”

“Then what’s he doing in our Chapter room. Only members are supposed to be in the Chapter room? What’s he doing here?”

“Mom, the Bible is closed.”

“Well, I suppose it’s okay then.”

By this time Anne regained her composure enough to clear the room and ask everyone to wait downstairs in the dining hall until the police arrived. She knew the police would want to talk to everyone.

As he left, Worthy Patron Harry said, “I sure hope they can find Mary Moran. She’ll be half way to Tacoma by now.”

Anne noticed Helen was standing at the altar looking at the body with tears in her eyes. “Helen, what’s wrong? Do you know him?”

“It’s Jim Ferguson, that retired software guy who moved here about 8 months ago. What a waste.”

“What do you mean by that, Helen? Was he a friend of yours.”

“Not really a friend - just an acquaintance. He lived down the street from me. We used to see each other in passing quite a bit and I was hoping …..well, he was one of the few decent single men around my age left in this town. Do you know how hard it is to find decent single men around my age in this town?”

Anne put her arm around Helen’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Oh, I see. That sucks!”

Lesson 5 – Plots – Part 2

As mentioned in my last post, a scene must have a beginning, middle and end. They liken it to an average workday. You begin by getting up, bathing, dressing, eating, and heading to work.
The middle is your work or school. The end is going home, relaxing, eating, TV, family or friends and then bed. Some days are more interesting, exciting and fulfilling than others. It’s the same with a scene.

Beginnings:
The beginning of a scene has only one mission – to hook the reader and make them want to continue reading. There are several places to begin a scene.

Begin in the middle – in medias res.
Basically this means that you first grab the reader’s interest and make them care before you give them all the intricate details. Begin with the action that causes all the reaction. You can also begin immediately after the action that sets the story in motion – i.e. “At least nothing was broken.”

Begin with dialogue
This is a variation on the above. The advantage is that the reader is stepping into something ongoing; therefore there is already an established momentum to sweep them along. There is also the suspense of figuring out the context of the conversation. It’s an interesting and subtle way to present characterization quickly.

Kicking off the scene with dialogue creates immediate momentum and interest because we want to know more about the situation that prompts the dialogue. It also enables the author to deliver characterization, background information, plot conflict and more – all while the reader is distracted by the flow of conversation.

The jump cut
The first line is some action or line of dialogue which has nothing to do with the previous scene even though we’re with the same characters. This can create a sense of suspense because the reader wants to know what happened between the time the last scene ended and this one began.

The big promise opening
Another technique for beginning a scene is to make a promise about what the scene will do. The greater the impact of the claim, the greater the reader’s interest in the scene. Examples of big claims would be:

“When I opened the door I had no idea this was the beginning of the day that would destroy my life.”

“What Anne did next changed everything she’d ever believed about men.”

It’s a “nothing will ever be the same” type opening.

Beginning at the beginning
Our text points out that many beginning writers use this technique poorly, using it out of laziness or because they don’t know there are other options. First you need to clarify where the beginning really is.

1. Setting.
You might begin with a description of the setting if the setting itself is a crucial character in the story or scene. He uses an example from Snow Falling on Cedars in which setting is used to do more than establish the weather; it also underscores the theme of the book.

2. Time
Begin based on the time of day rather than the location. The danger of the “I woke to the blast from the clock radio,” type of opening is that it’s been done so often it’s almost a cliché and needs to be revitalized to hold the attention of the reader. The details need to create interest and suspense. The advantage is that it immediately plunges the reader into a character’s life and world. Seeing them wake up and how they start their day shows us rather than tells us how they live and feel.

3. Action
Another beginning is to introduce us to the action that causes the plot. For example, you might open with a car crash. Your story might not be about the crash itself, but how the crash affected the people who saw it or were involved in it.

The buddy system
Basically, this is introducing a character through another character. You begin a scene with someone describing another character – usually the main character. A major advantage to this technique is that it builds immediate interest about the character being discussed. You can use this technique to reveal another aspect of the main character in each new scene from the narrator’s POV. Having a sidekick tell the story – like Watson in Sherlock Holmes stories – keeps the suspense heightened because we aren’t allowed inside the main character’s head.

Character description
1. Self description
Because the character is describing herself, the reader recognizes that we can’t always trust her opinions. They can be unreliable and have a skewed perspective, but it shows us what they think and feel about themselves.

2. Third-person POV description
This reveals more of the author’s judgment of the character.

Dream sequences
The advice here is that unless the dream is integral to the story, don’t open with it. You can get the reader all excited and swept up in the story only to find out it’s not true. Then they’ll be disappointed and probably angry at such a cheap trick. The lesson says writers usually use this technique because they can’t think of a legitimately interesting way to open the scene without this gimmick.

Final thoughts on beginnings
If you aren’t sure of your beginning, they recommend trying several different approaches until you get the one that feels right to you.

A good opening must compel the writer as much as the reader. It must force the reader to wonder what will happen next.


There’s a lot to this lesson. More later.

New shoe inspired epiphany

Purchasing new shoes isn’t a momentous event for me. I love shoes and have far more than necessary. I can carry the same purse for years, but shoes are my downfall. A couple of years ago a new brand caught my attention – Sofft. They’re stylish and comfortable – a happy combination. Now several pairs grace my shoe racks and finding a new style to purchase fills me with glee. Sofft shoes aren’t expensive, but they aren’t cheap either - usually about $90 a pair and worth every penny because they’re well constructed and use good materials.

Here is my latest pair:
The other day I looked down at my feet – stunning in my new shoes – and was overcome by the realization of how lucky I am.

I have:
· a spacious and comfortable home that will be paid off in about 5 years,
· a great job working for nice people who treat me well and value my opinion,
· a sweet, goofy dog who adores me,
· wonderful friends and neighbors,
· money in the bank,
· no debt besides my mortgage,
· membership in an organization full of good, happy people,
· and 9 pairs of Sofft shoes (along with shoes from many other brands.)

I’m not rich, but I’m not poor.
I don’t live in a mansion, but I’m not homeless.
I don’t eat steak and lobster very often, but I’m not hungry.
When I’m sick, I can go to a doctor.
I live alone, but I’m never lonely.
I have the ability to help those less fortunate, and I do.
I don’t shop in Beverly Hills, but I wear Sofft shoes.

I am a very lucky woman!

Sometimes the smallest moments can evoke the biggest epiphanies – like looking down at your new shoes.

Have you had any epiphanies lately?