Midnite Wind

Yesterday evening I got to spend some time with an old friend, T. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to sit more than an hour and talk … which typically would be during the annual Chicago Comicon when both of us would be “in town.”

T was always a gracious host. Charming.

I say “in town” because before last year, T would fly in from the west coast (or even overseas!) while Hubby & I would drive from Detroit. Yes, we’re that much of comic-geeks (well, rather Hubby & T are) to go yearly to Chicago for the past 5-plus years now.

Now, as of two months ago … we’re all in the same state and within one hour of each other. And because Hubby’s been helping him (as well as me) set up his own website (still under construction, BTW) to promote his own comic, the two of them have been “chatty” lately.

And seeing that *I* knew T before Hubby ever did … well, yeah. I was feeling a little left out. So yesterday, when I knew the two of them were meeting up in Evanston, I made sure that they’d stick around long enough for me to meet them after I got off work.

Seeing T again after a couple years (he never made it out to last year’s comicon, and we opted for San Diego the year before) was nice. It had me reflecting over the first day as a university student, moving into my dorm. I happened to first meet him in line while waiting to get my school ID taken.

Even though he claims we met back in high school my freshman year  after Track practice when I asked a mutual friend of ours if they had seen my brother. T even insists that I told him to look out for Dr. Bro’s “sh*tty brown car.”

Future-SIL, T and me (from right to left) ... Look how skinny I was!! Sigh ...

Which of course, makes me chuckle because that would totally be something I would have said.  Unfortunately I only have a very vague recollection of that memory. Which is why *I* still claim that we first met that first day I started in college.

“Hey,” T said to me. “Aren’t you [Dr. Bro’s real name] little sister?”

“Yeah,” I answered, as I crinkled my nose.

And every time we see each other, T has to bring up that story. Just to  remind me on how “offended” I looked when he asked me that question. And then I have to remind him how in high school I was always known as Dr. Bro’s “younger sister.” And here, on the first day at a new school, I immediately get recognized as being related to Dr. Bro. Again.

After those awkward first words, we found out that he’d eventually be moving into the same dorm that I’d be in and that we should “hang out” sometime. So afterwards, I ran up to my room and told future-SIL** that I just met my first new college friend.

Once T moved into our dorm (probably about a week after that first meeting), the three of us became quick friends. Future-SIL and I would pester him mercilessly and, for some strange reason, he would put up with us. Then there would be the countless times we’d end up in his room late at night playing poker for pennies and  … uhm, yeah … other college-related “experiences. (Oh come on now … I wasn’t that bad, but it was my first year in college after spending 12 years in Catholic school!)

T showing off his Chinese yoyo skills

Like, for instance, the time he called us on our dorm phone and whispered oh-so-quietly, “Does the wind blow at midnite?” In which he later came up at midnight with one of those industrial-sized roles of toilet paper from the communal bathroom on his floor. And brought it up to Future-SIL and my dorm room. Which was the corner room. Of the top floor of our building. And we proceeded to … uhm … let the wind carry the whole roll of toilet paper outside of our dorm room. Which then proceeded to wrap around our entire dorm building. TWICE. !!!

Anyway, my point being is that T is one of those long time friends that, regardless where we are (both in location and in whatever stage) in life, we pick up wherever we left off.

And that’s a comforting thought in the midst of chaos or tranquility.

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Eesh. Why does the last few days of Lent seem like forever? Here’s my daily Lenten bit.

Look closely at the yoyo above me ... Hmmph!

Good Deed of the Day: Does going into work for an extra day count as a good deed? If it means that I was able to give some extra feedback and encouragement and to my staff, then methinks it does!

Grateful Thought of the Day: I think this one’s obvious today. I’m grateful for friends where it’s as if we’ve never skipped a beat. It could be as simple as not having seen each other in a long time. Or it could be as unique as meeting in person for the very first time, but feeling as if we’ve known each other forever.  Those are true friendships.

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** What? You didn’t know?! I may have, in a previous post mention that my SIL and I were college roomates the first two years at university.

Pretty Asleep

Quickie entry for a Friday night. Since Hubby has an all-day conference downtown tomorrow, I’ve stupidly decided to go into work. Yeah, I’m a glutton for punishment.

Truth be told, I’m trying to get things done on a day where I’m not being constantly interrupted. As it is, it appears that the next month will be insane. And since I’d have the run of the office with no one there to bother me … why not take advantage of some peace and quiet?

So without further ado, here’s my daily activities for Lent.

Good Deed for the Day: Poor Hubby’s been working double-time lately. He’s been so busy this past week that he’s been up until the wee hours of the morning and yet still managed to wake up to get me to work on time. So the very least I could do was take his usual turn to walk our Kozzy-girl tonite just so he could take a bit of a snooze until he gets up again for another round of work.

Thankful Thought of the Day: Sleep. Right now I’m so thankful it’s time to sleep. Yeah … lame, I know. But it appears that the older I get, the more of it I need.

And since I just watched “Pretty In Pink” this evening, let me leave you with this wonderful quote that Iona said about growing old:

“Why can’t we start off old and grow young?”

The *Other* Look

Vintage Hello Kitty, circa 1976

I was five years old when I got caught shoplifting.

It’s one of those definable moments in life that a person never forgets. And it’s funny that today this memory would bubble to the surface of my mind.

I’m not quite sure what triggered this memory. Perhaps it’s because I’m hanging out at the local Border’s on Michigan Ave again (free WiFi … gotta love it!) Or maybe it’s because I happened to see a little kiosk in front of Macy’s that had stuff similar to the chotskies I stole at the tender age of five.

Anyway, I can remember shopping with my mom at Oakland Mall one Saturday afternoon when the incident happened. It must have been around Easter or Christmas, because all I could remember was having to try on frilly dresses that I had no intention of keeping clean once I wore them. Distracted by the ribbons and laces on third floor of Hudson’s, my Mom left me to my own device around the girls section.

I naturally found my way over to the little Sanrio kiosk located close to the girly accessories. The little Asian girl in me absolutely looooved Hello Kitty and secretly wished she could be Hello Kitty’s twin sister, Mimmy. As Mom continued to be distracted by polyester and rayon (it was the late 70’s at that time … breathable stain-free fabric for kids still hadn’t been invented), I thought about how cool it would be to have this pocket sized colored pencil and paper set complete with Hello Kitty stickers. Because they were so small, I didn’t think twice about putting them in my purple hippo Garanimal pants.

Early 80's Hello Kitty Chotsky. Would have gone good with those mini colored pencils!

And because my Mom just happened to call me at that moment to try on a few dresses, I quite honestly forgot about my new treasure until we got home. Which of course, when I discovered it in my pocket, I immediately went to my bedroom and began to draw with my new mini-colored pencil set.

I probably would have gotten off scott free if my Mom didn’t catch me playing with my new “toy” the next morning before Mass. In which I can remember the shame I immediately felt when she asked me where I got those pencils. Without my Mom having to say any more words, I broke down and sobbed; confessing that I took them from the store the day before.

Now is the time I can tell you about this particular look my Mom would give Dr. Bro and me whenever she was angry. In our teenage years, Dr. Bro and I would call it “The Eyes.”

Yes … Eyes. As in plural. Because she just wouldn’t give us the “stink eye” where one eye would squint while the other eye glared at you intensely with the corresponding eyebrow severely arched in an upward manner. No … my Mom’s look was more like two normally big eyes bulging out to two times its normal size. Both eyebrows would be arched to the extreme while she glared at you as if lasers would shoot from her eyes to burn every fiber of hair on our heads. Needless to say, Dr. Bro and I would run and take cover whenever “The Eyes” would come out.

Probably late 90's version of Hello Kitty

I distinctly remember the look in my Mom’s face when I confessed about stealing the pencil and pad set. Because it wasn’t “The Eyes.” Rather, it was this strange mixture of shock and sadness. As she stood speechless in front of me for a few moments, I suddenly felt smaller than I ever had been in the five short years of my life. I can recall feeling that way because I knew my shoplifting caused her to have that expression … and I hated knowing that I disappointed her so badly. At that moment, I almost wished I would have gotten “The Eyes” instead of that other look.

After she recovered from my confession, I was told to go to my room where I would wait anxiously until she returned. That’s when I got the lecture about stealing, which of course was reinforced by the Seventh Commandment. Then it was off to Mass where I had to pray to God for forgiveness. Afterward, we went straight to the mall where my Mom would make me give back what I stole and tell the store clerk that I was very sorry.

Obviously it was a very good method of learning from one’s mistake, because I’ve never shoplifted again since that incident.

I’ve seen “The Eyes” many times in my life; especially during those high school and college years. But I had never seen that other look since my shoplifting incident. I’ve never seen her disappointed in me as much as she was that Sunday morning.

To me, that is an extremely important thing to remember. Because even during the worst days of my infertility journey, when I felt as if I was as small as that five-year old version of me, she’s never me shown that “Other Look.”

Which, to me, means that even though *I* feel as if I’ve disappointed both her and my Dad by not giving them the grandchildren they so deserve, my Mom isn’t.

Disappointed in me, that is.

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Whew … is Easter here yet?! Oh yes, only 10 more days left of this Lenten Crusade.

Probably my fave Hello Kitty ... a Filipino version! LOL!

Daily Random Act of Kindness: Ugh. Having a hard time remember what good deed I’ve done today. Short of holding elevators for complete strangers and holding doors open for fellow employees, I can’t think of anything significant. Eesh … perhaps I need to make it up tomorrow with a better good deed.

Daily Thought of Gratitude: Not sure if I already said this in the past 30 or so days or this exercise, but I’m thankful for mass transportation. I love that I can get to places without having to drive myself (or have Hubby drive). I love that I can jump on a bus and travel down one end of Michigan Avenue to the other. But another unexpected benefit of mass transit is that I find myself getting more walking time in; it forces me to be active for more than I normally would have been if I was still living in Detroit.

Okay. I’m tired … and I still have another day of work in front of me before the weekend. Think I’m calling it a night!!

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Ink Me


I’ve always loved water

I’ve been itching to get a tattoo. “What?,” says those few ApronStrings Readers left. “You mean you don’t have one?” And my answer to that would be a surprising no. Especially seeing that my early 20’s were spent at the height of the tattoo revival in the 90’s.

It’s not that I didn’t have the opportunity to get one or two (or three) over the past several years … it’s just that I never knew exactly what I wanted. And if I was going to get something tattood onto me permanently, I needed it to be something I knew I could live with for the rest of my life.


And since our Honeymoon, I’ve loved Hawaii

That was one of the two criteria that had to be met before I would even seriously think of getting a tattoo; aesthetics. My tattoo had to be something that was both personal and meaningful. And it had to beautiful; well, at least in my eyes.

The second criteria had more to do about where this tattoo would be located. In my career as a bedside nurse, I’ve seen enough tattoos in various areas that most people wouldn’t want you to see. Well, unless … (go ahead; use your imagination … ) Regardless, it’s seeing how some of these tattoos start to morph into shapeless blobs with age or worse, change in body-type (read: weight gain/loss, etc). So that was my second criteria: I had to be satisfied with where this tattoo would be displayed. It couldn’t be in any area that I knew would eventually sag or expand.

And the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve also realized that I need to find a “strategic” area to place this tattoo. Because I’m now in a position at work where I’m more visible to other vendors and associates outside of my immediate department, I would need to think of an area where it might not be as noticeable.


So how to make it tattoo-like?

So why have I been thinking about finally getting a tattoo? Well, it’s not because I don’t know what I want to get; because I do. And it’s not because I don’t know where to get it; because I have a good idea about that, too. It’s really because I just had a co-worker who got her first tattoo.

You see, I’ve actually known what I wanted to get for quite a while now. And I’ve had a general idea of where I would place this tattoo. But the thing is, I want to have Hubby design it for me. I want his artwork to be part of my body. So until Hubby is able to make my design a reality, I won’t be getting my tattoo.

I just realllly hope it’s before I get any older … because I never know what part of my body will begin to sag next.

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Indonesian today. So here’s those Daily Lenten act.

 

This is probably the closest ... but not quite!

Perbuatan baik untuk hari ini: Nope; no dollar bills lying around today. However, there was something else lying around on the ground when I went to take our Kozzy-girl for a walk tonite. Because on Monday I happened to inadvertently stepped in one of those yucky doo-doo’s. SO … yes, I picked it up in our handy doggie bags and threw it away. And no Hubby, it’s not the same one you left behind last night because *I* forgot to reload the doggie-bag container. 😛

Rasa syukur untuk hari: Grateful thought of the day? That would be that Hubby cooked dinner for me tonight before leaving for one of his Meetup groups. Which he totally didn’t have to, but because he knew I had an incredibly busy day at work again … he did it so I didn’t need to cook when I got home. Can you tell how much I love him? Now if he’d only design  my tattoo …

Voices Emily

I’ve made no bones that, at one time in my life I wanted to be a rock star. I wanted to sing in front of adoring fans and raise the roof with some kick-a$$ songs that I wrote myself. Never mind that I was just a mediocre musician. And never mind that I never have an incredibly strong voice. I mean really … I never did make the actual Show Choir in High School; the same Show Choir that would go on to compete and  perform in other settings (a-la Glee).

My Cousins & I being “Gleeks”

Regardless, I just wanted to BE something important; to display some incredible talent and to feel some pride in myself. I wanted show that I had enough confidence in myself because confidence was something I’ve struggled with my entire life.

Well, not my entire life. Just from Eighth Grade on, when upon leading up to graduation from middle school, I was voted “Most Arrogant.” Which then resulted in me being ousted from my usual group of classmates; especially  during our class trip to Toronto where I got stuck rooming with one of the school teachers and the other “bad girls” of our class.

Anyway, my point in bringing that up is to show how one bad incident in a person’s life can affect his or her outlook in life; his or her confidence in what may be considered talent or skill.

Hubby rockin’ out on Rockband

Last week I’ve start getting back into American Idol. I usually like watching the first few weeks with all the auditions just so I can get a good laugh at some of the contestants (“Pants on the ground,” anyone?). Then I usually opt out of Hollywood Week and the first few live weeks; aiming to pick it back up around the Top 12 or so. And I think I do that because by then, most of the contestant’s real personalities start to show off in their performance; they’re more comfortable in the skin that they’re in. In short, they start to have much more confidence in themselves.

The reason I brought up American Idol in relationship to confidence is because some of the comments that Simon, Randy and the other judges make in response to some of the contestants’ performances. Many times I’ve heard them say that singers need to find themselves in the song choices they make; they need to make the song their own. And while I sometimes think they try to pigeonhole a few contestants into a certain genre, I do feel that the judges do that in their best interest; to help the contestants focus on what the judges feel is their strength.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, my parents had a very early version of a karaoke machine; a dual tapedeck and 8-track player that could record your voice singing to an instrumental version of any song in your karaoke tape library. (What can I say? It was the early 80’s … CD’s and digital technology wasn’t consumer-friendly at the time.) So yeah, I’ve got a few tapes downstairs in my parents’ basement with my voice one them.

But the thing about these recordings is that my voice always tried to sound like the artist that originally recorded the song. Whether it was a breathy version of “Like a Version” or a nasally version ” of “Do You Really Wanna Hurt Me?,” I never truly discovered my own voice.

More Rockband with Hubby’s Cousins

As I continue to find my new reality in a Child-free world, I’m finding that I’m beginning to feel more comfortable in my own skin. I find that, although I’m not always the most well-liked person out there … don’t always hold the same popular opinion that other people have … I’m quite okay with it; comfortable enough that I don’t always feel like I need to be “right” or prove someone “wrong.”

Oh, believe me … most days I still find myself “left out” of the Mommyhood Club, seeing that I’m part of that 10% of the population that bite the infertility statistical bullet. There are more days than none where I feel the losses more than I count my blessings … but those “off days” seem to happen less frequently.

And, unlike the awkward 13-year old eighth-grader who felt incredibly shunned by her classmates, I’m no longer afraid of showing a little pride in myself; a little more confidence on who I really am … regardless of whether I’m a mom or not.

Ironically? This year … the year I’ve finally accepted myself and my body for what it is? Well, it’s the same year that I’ve managed to stop trying to sing like Madonna; the year that I’ve finally found my own voice.

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Annnnddd … it’s Finnish today; for my Daily Lenten exercise:

Tyler also “Rocks Out”!

Hyvän teon tänään: Once again, I managed to find another stray dollar bill laying around. This time it was in a typically busy hallway at work. And of course when I found it, the entire hallway was empty. So once again, I made a donation to my co-worker’s favorite homeless guy. Funny thing was, when I found it I was on the phone with Hubby. And his comment was, “Wow; if you kept all the dollar bills you’ve found recently, you’d have a nice little pot.” Of which I quickly replied, “No way … I’d rather have my good deed return to me in spades!” Hey, my philosophy has always been “What goes around, comes around”!

Tunne kiitollisuutta päivä: I am so grateful to have the staff of RN Case Managers that I do. Even though they challenge me every day … today, especially as I rolled out their performance goals for the year … they’ve always showed appreciation to me for giving them the opportunity to express their opinions. Hey, I figure that I’d rather hear the complaints directly in front of me than behind my back!!

Okay, that’s all for now. G’night once again!