How to brighten my day via text message:

Text messaging is a wonderful invention, (when used properly, of course.) Don’t you think? My days are often made brighter when I hear a little vibration from my phone and notice there are unopened messages awaiting me.

The following are real-life examples of text messages sent by friends or family members that have actually brought a smile to my face.

Random observations are always welcome.

 

Requests for gift-giving advice … always welcome.

 

Statements about my obsession with my dogs … Welcome.

Pictures of your cute dogs … Always welcome. (Cute babies are more than welcome as well!)

Even pictures of your arm, strategically focused to look like a butt … are welcome. But not too often, CONNOR!

But pictures of a sunny Florida beach? Sent from your position on a sunny Florida beach? When you know damn well that it is 6 below zero up here where I am?

Not welcome! Likely to be met with retaliation of some form.

Now you know.

 

 

 

 

God’s not in the mailbox

As it often does, the lunch time conversation turned to religion. We each talked about the different ways we were raised in our faiths, our pitfalls along the way, the different beliefs we’ve held over the years. I mentioned my disappointment over the fact that I couldn’t recall having one of those big faith moments that so many people have experienced. You know the ones – those moments when someone clearly hears God speaking, or sees Him in the everyday surroundings, or simply has a defining moment when His presence is undeniably felt. I said that maybe it’s a failure on my own part that I haven’t had one of those moments. Either way, it contributes to my struggle with religion.

I wanted to lighten the mood, so I relayed an experience I had just last night. I was reading. Mark was watching t.v. and opening mail. I hadn’t been minding my husband, but he caught my attention when I heard him say, “Oh that was freaky! This is freaking me out! Look at this!”

I looked up to find him holding a sheet of paper in front of me that looked like this:

“Just stare into His eyes,” Mark told me. “Stare at them for a few minutes and you’ll see them open!”

So I stared.

And I stared.

And I stared some more.

I could literally feel my heart sink. His eyes didn’t open for me. I was sure it was a sign of my failure to be strong in my faith.

“His eyes aren’t opening for me,” I sort of whined to Mark.

“Just keep looking. They’ll open.”

I stared more. I knew what this was. I’ve seen plenty of optical illusions in my time. I couldn’t make this one work.

“I can’t see it,” I said to Mark, feeling defeated. And then I Googled the image to see what my failure said about me.

I explained to my coworkers that I was relieved to see that according to Google, this illusion was unanimously seen as a scam. The picture comes to you by mail. When you see the eyes of Jesus open, you are amazed and filled with awe. And this will make you want to follow the enclosed instructions and send your prayer requests (and some moolah!) to the designated church, which only exists as a P.O. box. Some “pastor” is getting rich off this scam. But he’s getting nada from me because the miracle failed to materialize for me.

My coworkers wanted to see the image that had me so bothered, so after lunch, I passed on a link. Thus ensued the following instant message conversation:

I’d like to think God has a sense of humor. I sure hope so because this had me laughing harder today than I’ve laughed in … I don’t know … a long time! And I’ve really been feeling like I could use a laugh lately. My coworkers sensed my feelings of worry over a silly mailing and took it upon themselves to make me see the lighter side of it. And anyone who has coworkers like mine would surely feel blessed!

Have I learned anything from this experience? Yes. I can find God wherever I think I might find him. It doesn’t have to be where others tell me he should be found.

Valentine’s Day, Schmalentine’s Day

My husband doesn’t listen very well. I told him, “NO Valentine’s Day gifts this year.”

Did he listen to me? No.

I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. It’s a fabricated holiday designed to get us to buy cards and spend money on unnecessary gifts to prove our love to another. You want to show me you love me? Make the bed. Clean the kitchen. Cook dinner sometime. And stay on your own side of the bed when I’m sleeping.

My husband is not a good gift hider either. He really should learn that if he wants to hide a gift from me, he should put it somewhere I’m not likely to go. Like the grocery store. The closet in our bedroom is not a very creative hiding place. I knew on Saturday what he was giving me when I … get this … went into my own closet! That’s okay. It gave me time to figure out how much money I did or didn’t have to spend on him.

He did tone it down a bit this year and just got me a big box of chocolates. Good ones. I’m not complaining. There’s never a bad time for chocolate. Last year he got me a Nook e-reader. I wasn’t complaining then either, but it seemed a bit extravagant for a holiday I don’t even believe in. I didn’t feel strongly enough to return the Nook though. That was a damn fine gift. Probably one of my favorite gifts he ever got me!

I hate looking for Valentine’s Day cards. I read all those mushy, sentimental cards and I have to fight to keep from sticking my finger down my throat and making a gagging sound. We like to get each other stupid humorous cards that convey the idea that, “Hey, we may get on each other’s nerves on a daily basis, and it may drive you nuts that I left the vacuum cleaner in the living room two days ago and still haven’t put it away. It might annoy me that you can’t watch one t.v. station for five minutes without flipping to another channel, but you do have some wonderful qualities which I don’t acknowledge nearly often enough and congratulations to us on managing to stay married anyway.”

This year, he got me a fine specimen of a card with a caveman on it, with caveman-ish sentiments inside.

 

Personally, I kind of like the part that calls me “hot like fire.” At my age, not many would be so inclined to describe me that way. It was perfect. Because I got him this one:

Because nothing says LOVE like making fun of each other’s imperfections. And an Adele CD, which is what I got him. And if he’s lucky, I’ll let him put his feet over on my side of the bed tonight.

Happiness is a Bunch of Toys

It was a busy and very productive day. Contrary to yesterday, things seemed to go just as planned and there was no headache at day’s end. After work, we met our friends, Dave and Shelly for a long overdue dinner together. We had such fun. Shelly had us in stitches telling us how her daughter, (and Kacey’s friend) Andrea always takes her check card when she needs to go buy a few necessities. One day while Andrea was off with the check card, Shelly called her and asked, “Are you still at the store?”

“I’m just leaving,” Andi said.

“I need you to do me a favor,” Shelly told her. I’m really having bad poops lately. I need you to go back in the store and ask the pharmacist if they sell home enema kits.”

“MOM! Are you kidding me???” came Andi’s reply.

We were doubled over with laughter as Shelly explained how she pulls these jokes on Andrea all the time. And poor Andi! She never knows if Mom is being serious or pulling her leg. I told Shelly that in all the years we’ve been friends, I never knew she was such a prankster. That’s the great thing about good friendships. There’s always something new to learn about each other. (I hope she won’t mind that I shared her story. It was too good not to share!)

After dinner, we came home to relax and let dinner digest. Lucy welcomed us home by parading all of her toys for us and then leaving them scattered all over the family room floor. Here she’s surrounded herself with most of her favorites. There’s only one stuffed toy she hasn’t ripped apart and removed all of the stuffing. We call this one Baby. She insists on having Baby when she has to go in her kennel and she always brings Baby out with her when we let her loose again.

Clearly, my dog is a never-ending source of cuteness for me. I’m such a sap.

The Difficult, Challenging, Sorta Good, Very Long Day

I have a headache. Everything I touched today fell apart.

Okay, no. It’s not that everything really fell apart. It’s just that everything became such a bigger deal than it was supposed to be. And I’m not complaining. Because there’s nothing I love more than being challenged and I probably haven’t been challenged enough lately. But if we could space these challenges out some, I might not have a headache.

AND … just when I thought my head was about to explode, I called home from the office, just as a courtesy, because I am nice like that, unlike some other spouses I know, to let my spouse know that I was still at work when I would normally be halfway home and that I would be just a little bit late today.

(I should get some sort of prize for that run-on sentence. Do they award chocolate for poor sentence structure?)

So as I was saying, I called home. I said I would be late. The husband said, “Okay. But will you do me a favor please?”

I didn’t even wonder what the favor might be. I was tired. I said, “Sure. What?”

At this point, he would normally say something like, “Drive careful, will ya?” Except today he didn’t say that. Today he said, “Say hi to Lucy will you?”

“WHAT?” I screech-whispered into the phone, hunching forward and tucking the phone in closer to my face. “No. No. I am not talking on the phone to our dog!”

“Yes. Come on. Just do it.” He was cracking himself up now. There was no question in his mind that this was going to happen. I’m not sure where this was coming from because, you’re just going to have to trust me when I say that my husband does not normally have silly tendencies. That’s my department.

“Mark. No. Stop it,” I whispered fiercely. I was not in the mood for this. This is something my daughter would do, not my husband.

“Yes. Come on. Hold on while I put the phone by her ear,” he was insisting.

He needs to get out more, I thought as I resigned myself to the fact that, like it or not, I was going to become the doofus who talks to her dog on the phone. But I refused to pretend like it was cute and funny.

“Okay,” Mark’s voice sounded a little more distant now. “Say hi to her.”

I hunkered further down at my desk, casting sidelong glances to make sure no one was witnessing this colossal act of stupidity. I lowered my voice, and so as to discourage any further attempts on his part to solicit any further participation on my part, I muttered in the flattest tone I could muster, “hi. lucy.”

Mark was giggling. I swear he was giggling and then cracking up and his voice came back clearly on the phone as he laughed, “Her butt is wiggling and she’s bouncing off the walls! Do it again! Hold on…”

Please God, not again.

“Mark, no… if you ever want me to get home tonight….”

My pleas were interrupted. “Never mind. She ran off to the front door. She’s looking for you outside.” He was still giggling.

“Yeah. I’m gonna get my work done here so I can come home tonight anyway,” I said dryly, trying to make him see my eyes rolling via mental telepathy.

“Okay. See ya in a while!” He was still laughing. Clearly he was oblivious to the fact that I was rolling my eyes at him. Or he was choosing not to acknowledge it. He’s an expert at that.

I’m sure you think that this story ends with my headache magically disappearing due to the comedic relief provided by my husband and dog. You’d be wrong. But there is a happy ending in that I did eventually make it home where my dog attempted to wiggle her butt off the back-end of her body in her overwhelming joy at seeing me again. And she tried to eat my black boots as I was attempting to get them off my feet. But I didn’t even care because it sure was nice to have such a warm welcome after such a challenging day. But I am  definitely not having any more phone conversations with Lucy. She’s a terrible conversationalist and her phone manners are deplorable!

Happiness is Celebrating the Little Things … and Hanukkah

Happiness is celebrating the little things. That was the message inside the foil wrapper of a Dove chocolate that I ate today. How true that is!

I think we proved this in the office today. The announcement yesterday of The Twelve Days of Holiday Fun was well-received. People seemed genuinely surprised, excited even, and several stopped to thank me for my part in the planning.

Today we had our first actual event – a pot-luck breakfast. We actually have a put-luck meal once a month to celebrate birthdays, so technically, this event wasn’t planned specially for the holidays. It just happened to fit nicely in our holiday schedule.

Normally when we have a pot-luck meal, the same people participate and the same other people do not. There’s usually a noticeable absence of management-type participation. And I get it. Those people are busy people. On any given day they are juggling more projects than they can possibly hope to get caught up on. They don’t purposely not participate in these team building things. They just don’t have time to slow down.

Still, it has often been said that it would go a long way to boost morale around the office if the management-types made the time to contribute to the put-luck meals. It would give the staff such a boost if management made it a point to grab a plate and just spend some time eating and talking with their people, even if it was only for a few minutes.

So … Denise poked her head into the CEO’s office one afternoon last week. It just so happened that the CIO was there too. She asked for just a moment of their time and explained that we were making the breakfast pot-luck a part of our holiday events schedule. She told them she thought it would go a long way with the employees if the two of them would commit to participating in the pot-luck event. They agreed and wanted to know what she was thinking. She told them that she thought they should cook French toast for the employees. Denise would bring all of the ingredients and supplies if they would commit to one hour of cooking and team-building with their staff. They agreed without hesitation and one of them even committed to bring in a couple of electric griddles on which to cook the French toast.

Every month there is a sign up sheet on the company intranet where people sign up for the pot-luck and designate what food they will bring. I think when people heard that the two big guys would be cooking and serving, they were more motivated to join the fun. We had the best turn-out in months! There was more food than we knew what to do with and everyone was talking about what fun it was and what a great meal it was.

A pot-luck breakfast. Such a simple thing. But there was a definite boost in the mood around the office.

Friday’s event is an office/cubicle decorating contest. I was at the store tonight, looking around for something to decorate with. I saw a Justin Bieber ornament and some Justin Bieber Christmas wrapping paper. For a moment, I considered being really weird and going with a  Justin Bieber theme. The idea was just so stupid it was funny! But the side of me that wants to be taken seriously wouldn’t let me do it.

I’m still going to have some goofy fun though. I know my boss won’t participate in the decorating contest. He just doesn’t have it in him and really doesn’t have the time. But he likes to have fun and poke fun with the best of them. He was ribbing me today. I can’t let him have the last word.

I found some Hanukkah wrapping paper at home. I have no idea where I got it nor why I have it since I am not now, nor have I ever been Jewish. At the store tonight, I found a little box full of foam Hanukkah stickers. My boss’ office door is going to get decorated for Hanukkah.

By the way… He’s not Jewish either.

I’ll try to remember to take pictures.

Life is Good – November 18, 2011

How boring would life be without laughter?

Do you ever laugh so hard that your stomach muscles ache? Do you ever laugh so hard that you have tears running down your face?

Life is full of hurts and frustrations. It’s full of injustices and disappointments. Maybe that’s why it feels so good to laugh when an opportunity comes along.

I love to laugh. I laughed a lot this week.

Things that are just goofy make me laugh; things like this article, a worrisome, dramatic piece of journalism which ponders whether or not Tuesday will ever come to an end and casting doubt on whether or not Wednesday will ever get here, OH MY GAWD! (Thanks to Oscar for sharing this with me!)

Or what about those emails? You know the ones! They’ve been forwarded on by eleventy-hundred other people and inevitably land in your inbox. Sometimes I don’t even look at them. Rarely do I pass them forward. But once in a while, a goody comes along. Check out these graphs:And there’s nothing like a good old-fashioned juvenile game to spark a bunch of good belly laughing. We had a catered lunch at the office this week, consisting of Asian food. Of course, there were fortune cookies – enough to feed a small country – and these lasted throughout the week.

Have you ever played the fortune cookie game? It’s simple. Once you’ve cracked open your cookie, read your fortune out loud and add the words under the sheets to the end of your fortune. My little lunch crew  was entertained with this game as we enjoyed leftover cookies all week-long. I saved a few fortunes. Read these, and as you say them to yourself, add the words under the sheets.

Never underestimate the power of the human touch.

A woman’s thinking is quicker than her action.

Your problem just got bigger. Think, what have you done.

Your nature is harmonious and affectionate.

I swear, I am not making these up! (Yes. I admit it. I am a child.)

But my favorite source of laughter this week came from an instant message conversation at work between three coworkers and me. We were trying to resolve an issue with our project. I won’t even try to explain it. It was one of those had to be there sort of things and it went from silly to ridiculous in the course of ten minutes. It had us shrieking with laughter, tears running down our faces and stomach muscles convulsing, proving that while work is necessary and important, it can also be fun.

Lately, at times, I have felt… not entirely happy. It could be an early onset of winter blues. It could be something to do with this stage in life and not being quite sure who I am and what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s not always easy, but it’s okay. I’m figuring it out. And while I do, it sure feels good to laugh whenever I can.

This week, I am grateful to be surrounded by people with a sense of humor, who know how to have fun and who know how not to sweat the small stuff. I am thankful for the positive and uplifting effect they have on me and the contagious influence of their happiness and laughter.

Life is good.

I haven’t written because I’ve been busy fighting with my husband and such

It’s been requested that I get the lamp shade off my head and write another post. I guess it has been a few days, hasn’t it? What can I say? I’ve been busy.

Things at work are going swimmingly, but busily! Busy is good, right?

And the after-work hours have been busy this week too. I bowled one night this week (very well, thank you!) Another night we took Lucy to meet Mark’s parents. She was extremely sweet and gentle with Grandma and Grandpa. Mark’s dad is recovering from a bout of pneumonia and Lucy seemed to sense that she needed to be extra gentle with these people. She walked right up to where Grandpa was sitting and rested her chin on his knees and let him pet her and tell her what a good girl she was. Then Grandpa showed Lucy where the doggy treat cupboard is and proceeded to feed her several treats.

Oh, and then there was the night that I was home, but I didn’t have time to write because I had to go to bed early because I was mad at Mark. See, there was an issue involving one of our children. Not an extremely serious issue, mind you, but one that needed discussing. I suspected Mark’s reaction would be less than calm. I suspected his reaction would be something like …

No! Not happening. To which I would reply, “Well wait a minute. Let’s talk about this.”

To which he would then say, Fine. But then (child in question) can plan on paying for all of this out of their own pocket! To which I would say, “Can I say something here?”

To which he would respond, Fine. Do whatever you want. I don’t care.

To which I responded by telling him that those three reactions are exactly how he always responds when there isn’t an easy answer to a problem and that he can’t just expect to proclaim his decision and then sweep the issue under the rug.

To which he responded that I always think he should never get angry and that I always cater to the kids. To which I told him “For your information, I am not necessarily in favor of this and I have all kinds of feelings about this but you are so busy making decisions all by yourself that you couldn’t even bother to act like a grown-up and have a reasonable discussion with me.

At which point I shut myself in the bathroom because I was done talking to him and didn’t want to continue. At which point he knocked on the door and said, I’m sorry. What are you feeling? To which I hollered, “ANGRY!” To which he responded, So I’m thinking you don’t want to discuss this right now? To which I said, “Not particularly.”

And being the pig-headed woman who I am, I required a couple of hours to stew about the whole thing (during which time he would ask, Are you still mad at me? To which I would lie unconvincingly and say no) before deciding to punish him by depriving him of my presence and going to bed early. Like 8:30 early.

(May I just take a moment here to give my husband credit for putting up with the emotional tornado he calls his wife?)

And so I slept on it and woke up realizing that the problem was not Mark’s reaction at all, since I knew this to be his typical reaction. The problem was that I took his reaction personally. Again. Twenty-three years of this, you’d think I’d have this figured out by now. So I now know that in the future, I should expect these very reactions from him in the face of difficult decisions, let him get them off his chest and proceed after he’s done pretending he’s in charge of everything. Because we all know that it’s really me who is in charge of everything anyway.

I’M KIDDING! (Sort of.)

So anyway, that’s why I’ve been a slacker this week. Sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone with my lack of writing. I promise to try harder to keep up from now on.

Who Needs Technology?

Apparently not my boss.

Our department is a small group of six people. Our offices and cubicles occupy one corner of a mostly otherwise empty floor.

We have all the technology we could possibly need to communicate. We have telephones. We have email. We have instant messengers. We have cell phones. But Brian, my boss, prefers other methods of getting his team’s attention.

He likes to shout out his office door to whichever team member he would like to speak to. Mostly it makes us laugh, and it has become an office joke that although Brian has the latest and greatest in technology, he still chooses to simply shout for us.

So I made him a present.

Here Kacey and Connor model how to use this lovingly crafted piece of communicatory equipment. (No, I’m pretty sure communicatory is not a real word, but I kind of like it so now it’s a word. Try to use it in a sentence sometime today, mmmkay?)

Do you think Brian will like it? I put instructions on his end of the phone. They say:

Directions: When tempted to shout, pick up can. Speak into open end.

Yes, I did actually take time out of my evening to put this piece of stupidity together, all for the sake of an office joke. There’s 50 feet of string on this thing. We took it outside and tried it out and it actually sort of works if you pull the string taut.

Hey, you gotta have fun, right?

I Won’t Cry Over This

I wanted to let him go a long time ago, but I just couldn’t do it. When I went back to work full time, I thought I might end it. I suggested it to him then, but he convinced me to keep him around. He insisted we could make it work. And we did, for a while.

But now, the time has come. The kids are growing up and leaving home. I don’t need him anymore. I only kept him around for the sake of the children anyway, and frankly, I just don’t see any reason to continue this relationship any longer.

People would often ask which one of the kids looked most like him. I always assured them that none of them did.

For years, he gave me just what I needed, without fail, on Tuesday mornings. In the kitchen. Yes, we had a designated day and the kitchen is where it happened. But I no longer want what he has to offer. And I told him so.

A few weeks ago, I gave him until the end of the month. He took it pretty well. I reminded him this morning that next week is the end of the line for us. He said he knew, and he’d be ready to call it quits by then. I was surprised at how strong he seemed even as we talked about our last days together. There might have been a tear in his eye, but I’m not sure. He’s hiding his sadness well.

Call me calloused, but I don’t even think I’ll miss him that much. I’m sure he’ll miss me much more than I’ll miss him. I’ll always be grateful for the years we had together, but I’m ready to do this on my own now.

So… is there an appropriate “good-bye” gift for the milk man?