Happy New Year

December 31, 2004 | Category:

Happy New Year world!

I'm trying to imagine what I would do to the psychic who would have told me the craziness that 2004 would hold. And all of it spilled onto a blog for the universe to see?

Would I have smacked the psychic upside the head or just hidden under the bed? Maybe taken a weed whacker to something hard and shiny?

Nah.

I'm full of shit to complain. Because I wouldn't have missed the dance for anything. I'm blessed to have had the time - it's more than I had any right to expect. I pray that there is more to come and more to live and more to share.

In the meantime, thank you for the dance so far.

Drive safe tonight, remember to kiss your designated driver all over, and see you in 2005.

Peace on Earth, God's blessings to all.

Scandanvian New Year's Eve Chant:
Let those who want to, arrive.
Let those who want to, leave.
Let those who want to, stay.
Without harm to me or mine.

Happy ....

December 28, 2004 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Where IS the Corporate Mommy these days? Knee-deep in the BOB Awards. My super-secret work for Mr. "We're having a baby!" and his partner-in-Bobdom, Jay.

Also? In my home. This year, CD brought many of his Scandanavian traditions to life. We had traditional dinners, and gifts from elves, Advent candles, language lessons.

I've been reminded that our world has so many ways to celebrate this time of year - some as ancient as the land, others created in our lifetime. All meant to bring people together, joined with the spirits of goodwill and peace.

The darkness weakens.
The sun rises higher,
The frozen ground rejoices.
God grant you a Merry Yule,
And happy winter hours.
-Scandanavian Blessing

Sing Goldfish Incredulous Relationship

December 27, 2004 | Category:

How was your Christmas?

I asked you first.

How was your Christmas?

It was fine. It was good. Bear got a little overwhelmed. CD and I seem to have found a temporary peace. Roast came out fabulous. Nice.

Really?

Really. I think.

Temporary Peace?

Yeah, but I can't talk about it.

Can't, won't....?

He asked that I respect his privacy.... better. But no, nothing fundemental has changed. I think I can say that. It's fine. Really.

Really?

Yes. I got a new winter coat. Blue.

Blue's good.

Yeah.

Doing anything for New Year's?

Do I ever?

Good point.

But Happy New Year's anyway. Rock on. Healthy and happy 2005.....

You too. Wait -

Yes?

"Sing Goldfish....?"

A friend gave me some home-made refrigerator magnets for Christmas. All sorts of words that have meaning to her. I did that thing, where you pull out a handful from the bag and see your fortune...

And you pulled out?

Sing. Goldfish. Incredulous. Relationship.

Wow.

Yeah.

Any idea....?

Not a clue.

Well, you know... Buddha sat in front of a wall and was enlightened.

You're comparing the magnets to Buddha?

No. The wall.

Wow.

Deep, huh?

Not really. Talk to you later?

Sure.

Semper Fi (Fortune Cookie Wisdom for the Year's End)

| Category: Family, It's a Trip

A couple of years ago, my former boss, Reed, assigned me this program. This thing was so high-profile, and complicated, and HARD. I was in over my head.

To top it all off, one of the senior guys on my team delighted in doing the opposite of whatever I asked him to do. Because of him, I started each day with the breakfast of champions: 3 Tylenol and a cup of antacid.

Before that Christmas, I called a teleconference with this guy, Reed and myself. To call this guy on the carpet and demand a commitment that he change his behavior.

After the call, Reed asked me why I'd done that. Reed said that that I'd had no reason to embaress the man in front of his boss's boss.

I felt immediately ashamed.

What's really wrong? Reed asked me.

What's wrong? I repeated, near tears. What isn't wrong?

I gave him my litany - my first program with an 8-figure budget, incompetant vendors shipping product to the wrong locations, resources that were staging a slow-down because of layoff fears, yada yada yada....

Reed listened kindly and said And?

And? And What?

Nothing you haven't handled before. If on a smaller scale. So tell me, what's the real problem here?

Oh.

He spent about an hour then, chatting with me, until I realized what I was doing wrong and how to fix it. And never once did he tell me what to do.

You know, I worked for the Church for years. But it was Reed - a former soldier - who taught me some important lessons that I try and bring back to the center of my life each Christmas:

1) Don't judge a person by their worst trait or their worst day

2) Remember that a person's dignity is sacred. Do nothing to violate it.

3) Your problem with someone else is almost always that: your problem. Not theirs.

4) Everyone is carrying their own solutions with them. The most effective way to help someone out in the dark is not to push them where you think they should go. It is, instead, to become a flashlight for them to use in discovering their own way out.

5) Forgive. Especially yourself.

Live With Me

December 22, 2004 | Category:

A long time ago: He stood next to me in the rain. We looked up at the window of his ex-girlfriend's apartment.

He said to me: I would die for her.

I said to him: That's the problem.

I thought about all their fights - over the daily chores, the grind that she'd wanted him to share. He had been writing epic poems to her while she cleaned up around him. He'd pledged his sword to her beauty; she'd snorted and asked he pledge something more meaningful. Like a mop.

It was 15 years ago maybe and I remember his eyes. He stared at her window. I looked at him, and I said: She wants you to live for her. Share life with her, dude.

And now: Don't get me wrong. I am charmed by the gestures, the flowers CD brought me every Friday for years. I get squishy for the sweet text message. I reach out to hold his hand in the middle of the night. When he stood beside me as we fought for our son, I felt like we were the only two warriors on the planet and that we alone - that we, together, - were in arms against the same enemy.

But never, never have I ever wanted the devotion of the Knight pledged to die for his lady.

Honey, no.

Get off that horse and come sweep the barn. Come LIVE. Come plan the grocery shopping with me. You scrub behind his ears while I fetch his pajamas. I'll hold the paper, you tape the corner. You wash, I'll dry.

I know that once we tackle this, that we can fly. Even in the darkest moments, when we've hung up angrily and feel completely isolated from each other. I know. I know that it is in our grasp.

But generations of Vikings kick his ass with instincts to deal with adversity with an axe and a roar. And we've been struggling, back and forth. And suddenly I understand. He wants to show he that's in this, that he's sticking.

So I reach to him and say: yes. Yes. Everytime the chips have been down, I've looked to you. You can be my hero.

But in the meantime, in the cracks of life.

Live with me.

I love. The winter weather.

| Category: Family, It's a Trip

Well, family lands tomorrow so I guess, yes, there really is a Christmas this year, Santa Claus.

Continue reading "I love. The winter weather."

How to wrap my Christmas Gift

December 20, 2004 | Category:

Ben inspired me to share with you CD's amazing gift-wrapping methodology.

But before attempting to emulate, understand that this may get VERY expensive. Because my husband? A ROLL of wrapping paper for EACH GIFT. Does not matter the size of the gift? No....

Ready?

1. Unspool unGodly amount of wrapping paper onto floor. From kicthen to dining room. When cats chase each other over it and child hops on it, heave a big sigh, gather up that 20-foot sheet and throw it away.

Start again.

2. Standing over the bedspread of wrapping paper, drop gift somewhere towards an edge.

3. Cleopatra that gift to an R-factor of like, 100.

4. With use of pliers and feet, bend the leftover paper on each side into the middle. There's about 50 layers, so you need to sit on it once you fold it or it will unsprung and maybe? Take an eye out. At the very least, flip over a coffee table.

5. Attack with duct tape. Silver, preferably.

6. Allow preschooler to stick 6 or 7 bows on it

7. Write wife's name in big letters with a Sharpie.

8. Haul it under the tree. Realize that now that you have made a box of perfume roughly the size of a Yugo, that it won't fit.

9. Slide it over to the side of the tree. Gaze at it fondly.

10. Turn to wife and say "Do you want to know what it is?" Look at disbelieving, fish-mouth gaping expression and say, with stunning male self-pride and naivity "What?!"

Duet in the Frozen Food Aisle

| Category: Mother to the First Power

Picture, if you will....

Grocery store. CD's pushing the cart, Bear's in the kid seat.

They're scouting ice cream and bobbing their heads to their own internal rhythm.

CD: "Right about now..."

Bear: "Funk soul brotha"

CD: "Just about now...."

Bear: "The funk soul brotha..."

I do not think it means what you think it means

December 17, 2004 | Category:

For all my words (blah, blah blah) I was so emotionally constipated 10, 15 years ago that I would expect my friends to get a 1000-word essay on my feelings out of the phrase "I'm fine".

Like those talk, dark, and silent types - when it came to anything real, I would use as few words as possible. Look at my deep green eys, look at my sad, wistful smile, I say "I'm fine" and I shrug a little and then I move away.

Can't you tell? Aren't you fricking PSYCHIC? I'm DYING HERE.

Then? I got over myself. I learned that the world of magic thinking is counter-productive to happiness. Especially? MY happiness.

I learned to say "Life sucks"; I learned to say "Squeeee!"; I learned to say "Ouch, that hurts"; "I learned to say "Down a little and to the left".

But just to be sure that the universe made its point, I married someone just like I used to be. No. Wait. ....WORSE.

Oh, look at the tall dark anti-hero, leaning against the door. Look into his deep brown eyes. See his blank face. Hear him say, in a monotone, "I'm fine."

What? You didn't get from this that he's had an excuciating commute home, too much work on his desk to even think about dealing with in the morning, and a wedgie all the way up to his intestines?

Me neither.

All this and a bag of me being Mommy McMartyr, taking responsibility for all our lives.

So why am I still here?

Because... he's my husband, he's my anti-hero, he loves me to places that aren't on the map, he stands guard over our home and our family like a Marine, and he looks so hot in black leather that it makes my teeth hurt. And?

Because I knew what I was marrying when I married him. We'd found a path, back then, a private place where we could communicate.

A path we've lost and are looking to find again.

This habit we got into - me taking care of him - it was a bad habit. Up there with those Marlboro Lights that took a decade to quit. Maybe worse. Yeah. Worse.

We are re-drawing the responsibility map and it is hard. And I wish, Philip - I wish so much that we could re-start the clock.

This is the dry, dusty, hard trail. There is no mercy in it. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. I hate that we let things slide too long and I hate paying the price.

And I hate that here and now, I'm stumbling in my faith. I hurt, I despair, and I am barely a step away from the chasm. Inside me, I visualize where we are going and I am reaching for it. Inside me? I have hope, and love, and desire.

But. Just this second? Now?

I'm not fine.

And one step back

December 16, 2004 | Category:

Breaking this cycle? I know, I know.. 2 steps forward and 1 step back.

But what if I don't believe it will ever change? What if I am crazy about the man but pessimistic about the relationship? What if?

The days are dark, and so is my mood.

He flew home early, so he could make Bear's holiday pageant last night. I was so happy to see him. And then, not an hour later, he made a comment. A little throwaway comment.

But the comment shouted all the things that are wrong. That this one-way street we've walked for so long - with me responsible for reading his mind and making sure he has everything he wants - that we're still on that street.

I stood my ground. Behind our politeness, the air turned stormy as we traded angry glances over our son's head. And I was right back to shaking my head in frustration.

And I don't know if the things we are trying to do can be done.

I am holding on to hope, like a life ring. I am praying, as though my life depended on it. I am breathing, in and out.

I have no idea what else to do.

Update Something Good

December 15, 2004 | Category: In My Life

I wrote Sue.

Sue wrote me.

*swoon*

Tell me Something Good

December 14, 2004 | Category: In My Life

[begin rant]

My best friend growing up was an amazing Mary-Tyler-Moore scrap of a girl named Sue. You met her and 10 minutes later you were laughing your guts out as you shared a soda.

When a guy named John held my hand at a party the autumn of my sophmore year of high school - she was the first person I wanted to call and tell.

When I got my heart broke in college, she was the one I cried to.

In my 20's, when my ex-partner gutted my life with a revelation 6 months after we'd bought a home together, she hopped a plane and met me where I'd run to - my grandmother's condo in Florida.

Late that night, we snurched my grandmother's yacht of Lincoln and made for the cigarette smoke and Rum & Cokes of the local scene. I had valiantly decided not to deal with my life for the night and she had decided to be supportive of that decision.

We wore short skirts and lipstick and as we left one pub to look for the next, a pair of cute guys made their move.

Out in the parking lot, we let them flirt. We let them lean. Kept watch on each other from the corners of our eyes as we had our hands held, our beauty exhorted. B-52's thudding from the radio of our getaway boat.

We managed to make it back to the condo complex with our modesties still relatively intact (phone numbers stashed in our purses). My lips tingled; her cheeks were pink. We slipped into lounge chairs by the pool and chatted as I went through half a pack of Marlboro Lights. We slipped into that silence that falls after you've laughed too much.

After CD left this morning, his duffel packed for another business trip, I was hit by a wave of homesickness for Sue so strong that I got nauseated. When did we stop being the kind of friends that would hop a plane for each other?

When did I become this woman, who ponies up each day? Who lives in the very stoicism that I rejected as a child? When did I stop calling on my friends, when did they stop calling on me?

Dammit. I want to hop a plane to somewhere warm. I want to fluff my hair and dance to Chaka Khan and drink frothy things with umbrellas in them with a girlfriend and giggle. I want to forget my dress size, my age, and my position.

Life is grey and life is hard and I'm lonely. And every small step towards a better future with CD is still anchored in today.

Today. Today when no one looked me in the eye. Today when no one dragged a thumb down my cheek, hoping to get lucky with my lips. Today when no one splashed me with water from a pool and dared me to see how many miochardial infarctions we could cause by skinny dipping in the pool at the middle of a retirement village.

I was looking at pictures of that trip today. My grandmother, who never understood Sue's vegetarianism ("Not even chicken?") and loved Sue's grace ("What elegant handwriting! What excellent manners!") - my grandmother is gone now. And Sue? She's the one happily living in Florida.

But the years took her even farther from me.

I miss Sue.

I miss Chaka Khan. I miss Rum & Coke and giggling in the dark. I miss knowing I can say anything. I miss the kindness. I miss the eyes wise with all the shared memories of childhood and womanhood.

And I miss the adventures. I miss leaning. The pounding of my heart. I want to be kissed, but good. With a hand tangled in my hair and my toes curled.

I don't mind getting older. And I love all the things responsibility has brought to my life. And I believe in the things that we are slowly building.

But.

But.

But.

[/end rant]

Suck Up

| Category:

Mango: Uninspired, but still hopeful.: A blatant attempt to appease the judges.

Wow, am I SO Appeased. So. I'm just saying.

And the winner is....

| Category:

Look and see! (And howdy was it a landslide! Anyone offering to comfort the poor Wolverine over his loss?)

It's been an exciting couple of weeks in the Blogisphere, and it's not over yet. 2 of my favorite Dads, Jim (Captain GENUINE) and Jay (ZERO BOSS) have teamed up to launch the BEST of the BLOGS (BOB) Awards! They've already had 1,246 emails in response - this thing is going to be BIG.

For a reason that absolutely escapes me, they asked if I would be a panelist and I said sure. So I can't be nominated or nominate anyone in the secret category I am .. uh.. panelling. So. PLEASE - head on over and NOMINATE NOMINATE NOMINATE all your favorite blogs (and your own, too!). Did I mention ... there are PRIZES?

And on a really personal note, thank you. The Celebrity Boyfriend thing has been a LOT of fun during a few weeks when fun was the best medicine. The kindness of the blogisphere is often overlooked by those who see only the scams and spam. But I'm living proof. There are still smarts, warmth and generosity in the world, Virginia. Look no further than the comments of this blog to see it.

RUN-OFF .. It's a Tie!

December 13, 2004 | Category:

Being a closet anarchist, I decided to let everyone have as many votes as they liked. The result? (And it was very, very close...) We have a TIE! So, it's time for a 1-day only run-off.

HARRISON or HUGH?
You decide - The fate of my next crush hangs in the balance....

Continue reading "RUN-OFF .. It's a Tie!"

Vote!

December 12, 2004 | Category:

LOOK DOWN! There's a new entry below this one.

Vote! Corporate Mommy's Poll for new Celebrity Boyfriend is open until Dec 12. It's neck-and-neck-and-neck! Scroll down or click here to cast your vote!

Vote! Only 48 hours left for the WebLogs! Vote for CM. (Don't forget Munuviana, EveryDay Stranger, SnoozeButton Dreams....)

Getting Out of the Way

December 10, 2004 | Category: In My Life

It's overcast again. And cold.

CD just left with Bear. As part of our new thing, you know, every morning he gets Bear up and dressed and drops him at school.

Yesterday, I messed with CD's alarm clock so this morning it didn't go off and they were running late. I felt bad, and offered to help, but CD shrugged me off. He said he was fine.

I didn't believe it. I got up, got ready, and braced.

Yet CD was fine. He got himself and Bear up and washed and dressed and out the door. The two of them did a sped-up version of their new morning routine as I sat on the couch in the playroom, waiting for the yell.

It didn't come.

The most help I gave was putting on Bear's shoes and fetching a fruit roll-up. And otherwise, staying out of their way.

I'm a little dazed.

... There's a saying in therapy - that the therapist shouldn't work harder on your life than you do.

In my previous job description as a martyr, especially when we would come under stress? I would run around working harder on his life than CD did.

Oh, you're running late? Let me pick out an outfit for you and iron it, while you take a shower. Don't worry about Bear, I'll get him to school or just take a personal day. You hurry along now!

Feeling needed and used all at the same time, and CD coming to expect this treatment. Eventually, this would have killed us completely. But we're learning new ways.

I can not work harder on anyone's life than they do. It does nobody any good.

I have to work hardest on my own life.

To take care of me.

And to tell you what a screwed-up place we've been in - that sentence seems so incredibly selfish.

It's baby steps. Starting, I guess, with CD dealing with being late. And me? Getting out of the way.

Previously, on Corporate Mommy

December 08, 2004 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

This is an entry for Blogging for Books. It is silly. The topic - "Your life as a sitcom." And let me say that Anna's entry had me peeing myself and Elizabeth's (the other Elizabeth) had me nodding in violent agreement...so I wasn't even going to try. (I get intimidated real easy.) But wait. I needed some silly. So good, bad or indifferent - here is your primer to Corporate Mommy, the Sitcom.

Previously, on Corporate Mommy...

This season, the previously light-hearted and laugh-filled world of Corporate Mommy took a serious turn when the Corporate Parents began grappling with the question of having more children. Not to say that the characters America has come to love weren't still delighting with their wacky adventures!

Yes, the hijinks continued as the Corporate Family tackled a 900-mile road trip with a loose door strapped to their van (".... it was like having a giant thudding vibrator strapped to our heads"), cheered their team on to winning the World Series (Begone! Curse of Danny Darwin!), and got anti-Political (“Really, what this election needs is a good swift kick in the butt by Miss Manners”) - all with their usual sangfroid.

Meanwhile, the storyline about fertility spun into an arc about the slow rift this sparked in the foundation of the Corporate Marriage.

In upcoming episodes, the antics of the Corporate Family will continue to be tempered by the gravitas of this crisis and the determination of this couple to find a way back to good – or even, hopefully, better.

About Corporate Mommy.

From the Emmy-winning writers/executive producers that brought you hits like “My Mother the Stapler” and “Hazel, The Teen-aged Tycoon”, Corporate Mommy chronicles the klutzy, chaotic and madcap adventures of a work-at-home mother juggling the corporate sharks in one hand and her 4-year-old wunderkind son in the other.

Picture Rhoda Morgenstern doing a craft with birdseed, peanut butter and curling ribbon while managing a 7-figure budget review over her headset. Corporate Mommy is the family sitcom that brings the boardroom into the dining room.

Who can forget the time she tried to get mascara off her tongue before a big client meeting? Or the time she just missed hitting the ‘mute’ button before her son told a co-worker about her breasts?

On a given day, Elizabeth might find herself explaining to her employees the difference between their corporate emails and startrek.alt.newsgroup or putting out a house fire in her living room. The world of Corporate Mommy is a wild and unpredictable ride!

As a mother working in senior management, Corporate Mommy (Elizabeth) faces the challenge of so many modern parents - finding balance. Often is the time that a 2-hour teleconference on determining the earned value of a program seems like a nice break from chasing an active and precocious preschooler. While her husband envies her easy commute (down the hall) and her “business casual” attire (jeans); she envies his escape to a world full of other adults each day.

Elizabeth's huband, Corporate Daddy (CD), is a tall, dark, and quiet Scandinavian who is the perfect foil for his short, curvy and blonde wife. CD happily indulges his Elizabeth’s love of FarScape, and freely admits he said “I love you” first. As well as his IT career and his university studies in robotics, CD’s most compelling interest is in being a great father.

But the breakout star of this family sitcom is undeniably Corporate Son (Bear). You've seen his coppery good looks on the covers of "Toddler Times" and "PreSchooler Beat". A long-awaited Miracle Baby, Bear’s passions include outsmarting his babysitter, snappy comebacks., music (dancing, listening, encouraging, even discussing Warren Zevon tunes), and recording his poopies for posterity. Bear’s sweetness is, by now, legendary. His career goal is to become the Blue Power Ranger.

Check your local listings and join the Corporate Mommy family of fans today!

The Nominees are...

December 07, 2004 | Category:

I tried last night to create a poll. It was going to be SO impressive. Seriously. I spent my time at ScriptyGoddess; I read readme files until my eyes crossed.

And then I remembered that FirstTruth of Being Mu: SexyCoolOverlord ReverandPixy doesn't like it when we break Munuviana.

Ergo, the low-tech route.

And the Nominees for Corporate Mommy Celebrity Boyfriend are....

1) John Cusack
2) Pierce Brosnan
3) Colin Firth
4) Harrison Ford
5) Bill Murray
6) Hugh Jackman

CAST YOUR VOTE IN THE COMMENTS! I'll Announce the winner on the 12th, same day as the WebLog Award (*vote for CM Today!*) voting closes.

And yes, I'm sorry GraceD but I just can't be crushing on a guy who, at any tme, could stand up and start chanting "It just doesn't matter!"

The Minor Fall, The Major Lift

December 06, 2004 | Category: Sick & Tired

(On a slutting-my-blog note; WEBLOG AWARDS VOTING IS OPEN! Each IP address is allowed to VOTE HERE for Corporate Mommy once a day. Don't forget - SnoozeButton Jim and EverydayStranger Helen, as well as Munuviana, are nominated too!)

This morning, CD was getting Bear ready for school and woke me up, behind schedule and frazzled. Asking for help.

I didn't move.

In the past, I would have launched out of bed like a bottle rocket and fixed everything.

This morning, I stayed in warmth of the comforter and waited. Finally, CD was able to think things through and ask me, specifically, to get Bear dressed.

"Sure," I said. And I did.

I'd asked this past weekend. I asked what my part had been in this crash of us. I asked, near tears, frustrated, what I had done?

He looked at me and said, gently, "too much."

And I realized, as I held his hand between the front seats of the van, that he was right. We've crept into these roles. I, the uber-competant superhero on crack. He, the layabout husband who doesn't deserve me.

Except. Not.

I don't know how we let this happen, how we slipped down this spiral over the last few years. I just know that we've hit bottom.

From here there is only out or up. And no crystal ball to tell me which it will be. Just faith. Just faith.

Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah... Leonard Cohen

P.S. Ever wondered what Corporate Mommy Looks like? Check out Philip's site and see....

Friend to Buskers and Tin-eared Critics Alike

December 02, 2004 | Category: Mother to the First Power

CD got out his guitar and started playing THAT song. "Love is all you need". Badly. And singing. Badly. Sweetly. But badly.

Bear got up, went over to the change jar, got a handful, and dropped it in CD's open guitar case.

Don't encourage him, kid.

It's an honor just to be nominated... (Weblog Awards Edition)

| Category:

So GENUINE IM's me with his congratulations. And I'm a dufus, so I'm like "Uh, thanks... for what?!" And that's how I found out.

Continue reading "It's an honor just to be nominated... (Weblog Awards Edition)"

Random Words and Little Decisions

| Category: In My Life

Two weeks ago was a week of anger and acting mean. Last week was one of despair. This week started in immobilizing sadness. But by yesterday I had begun to breath again. I've been making decisions. Little ones.

That is not to say that I am gearing up for big decisions. What is next is not a momentous announcement. What is next is more little decisions.

I heard one that 'Character is in the choices we make first thing in the morning and not in response to something that has gone wrong'. I am trying to feel out my character. I am trying to make choices that build love and peace. Even if they hurt. Even if they confound me. I am pushing away at the yummy isolation - moving from reaction into action.

On that note, let me say .... I think I am in love with all the people who read my site.

Except that one, and that other one. Who seemed to think that I was doing them a favor by being in a brittle place because they felt stronger in comparison. My advice, and no one asked for it, is that if there needs to be a comparison study to feel good about one's life then somewhere someone got the definition of "life" wrong.

And on that note, life is too short not to be panting for one's Celebrity Boyfriend. Therefore, and I know this will break his heart, but I really think I need to break up with Bradley Whitford. I'll still adore him, but for the second Thursday in a row I realized that *whoops* 'West Wing' was on last night and I forgot. My celebrity boyfriend needs to be compelling.

I am trolling for suggestions.

And as a practical follow-up to "Sorry seems to be..." I have almost finished the holiday not-newsletter. It is December 2, and normally I would be done by now. But I found myself unable to write about the year. Not because it is all bad. Of course not. There was much good. But because right now, this minute - the prism of my perspective is muddy.

Instead I created 10 minutes of a DVD with the un-Photoshopped JPG and AVI files of the year (yes, raw. I'm not brave, it's just that the program I was using is an intolerant b*tch) . I finally picked the music. "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys, "Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong and "Love is all you need" by the Beatles and sung by Lyndon David Hall.

I have decided that if I never hear "Love is all you need" again, that would be just fine.

That accomplished last night. By this morning, I was feeling a little more "me".

I got up this morning at 4:30. Actually got out of bed at 5:15. Pulled it all together for a strong status report today. I put my head back in the game. I told a new exec out in the UK who was talking to me afterwards that yes, I was might be interested in relocating to the UK. I brushed up my CV.

Most of all, today I cherished Bear. Like the tingling you get when your foot wakes up - sometimes being so connected to another human being just plain hurts. I don't want to think about his dad and I but how can I not when I look at Bear's smattering of freckles and impish grin? I love him for who he is all by himself. But in him, there is always the both of us.

I have decided to take Elia, our own Mary Poppins, home and then to give Bear a bubble bath. I have decided to take tomorrow afternoon for us to make cookies. I have decided to call the doctor in the morning and have my annual check-up - even though it means that I will end up with my breasts frozen and squished in a metal vise in the torture that is genteely known as a mammogram.

And between CD and I, there has been no major improvements; no unbreachable gulfs. There is respect and gentle civility. There is a mountain ahead. I don't know yet where the path will lead.

I have decided to keep walking. Until tomorrow. In little steps. And see.

How to Handle Difficult People

December 01, 2004 | Category:

When I taught seminars, my company would let me take any public seminar they offered for free. Probably so I would pimp them in the seminars I was giving. Like THAT was going to happen. Saying to 50 guys with doubled pocket protectors and triple pagers - Hello, I know you're here to learn how to code IP addresses, but let me tell you about my company's latest offering "Love Letters to Your Soul"...

I kept some of the free books they sent me though. Like "How to Handle Difficult People." It categorizes people into groups with tactics for dealing with each. "The Plaintive Princess" "The Guerrila Gorilla" "The Smiling Steamroller"

That last one is me.

Yeah, I'm a steamroller, baby. To quote James Taylor.

And that's OK. I'm learning to be a gentler, kinder steamroller. And Luckily I work with a LOT of other steamrollers. So some meetings look more like roller derbies. But it's all good. Usually.

Today I got on the phone with a friendly steamroller from some years ago. We work in the same group now, yet we never actually work together. So it's been a couple of years. This is what happens wwhen two steamrollers collide.

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Shooting in Wisconsin

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Dear Hunter,

A very good friend of the family is a hunter. I bet he's spent over a million dollars over his life travelling and hunting. From Russia to points south. Plus the Taxidermy, yikes. The inside of his house is unreal. You've never seen anything like it... the heads, the antlers, the life-sized bear.

We visit him and his wife every year -I have known them all my life, and at 4 years old my son can point and tell you what is animal is what for the most part. He knows those walls pretty well.

And I feel safe with my son there. These are wonderful people, responsible and kind Yankees; third-generation friends.

Personally, I loathe guns. And I think what happened with Vang is an extreme tragedy. His response was criminal. He took human lives. He should suffer the punishment for his actions.

But the racisim that preceded it must be addressed. Wherever there is intimdation, fear - bullying. There will always be those who are triggered to a disproportional response. No excuses for what they do, we can't stop them. But we can adress the trigger. It is what we, as bystanders, CAN do in the face of this tragedy.

Just my 2 cents.

Thank you for commenting and for speaking your mind.

Elizabeth

(click on the extended entry to read the original post)

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