This Thanksgiving we all took turns at the dinner table saying what we are thankful for. I'm sure this was happening in quite a few homes at the very same time. As each person took their turn, they almost always said that they were thankful for family and friends. Again, I'm sure this too was happening in quite a few homes at the very same time. When it was my turn to say what I was thankful for I too said family and friends. But then I added more to it. This is because I have more reasons to be thankful for my family and friends than ever before. For me, it was way more than some nice, general comment of gratitude. It was, and is, a genuine and heartfelt declaration of how I feel. My family and friends have given me assistance when I only only barely request it, and even more amazing, they've offered their help when I didn't even ask for it. They have gone out of their way, and out of their comfort zones, to do things for me in my time of need. And all I can say is WOW!
I've mentioned before that I am not the type to ask for help. I have always been the one to do things for others, never asking for anything in return. And I didn't expect anything in return either. I truly believe people should do things for other people out of the kindness of their own hearts; not to bank a favor in return. Yes, as I have gotten older, I've learned how to say no to some requests. But I still usually say yes. I actually like being a person that helped someone out. That alone makes me feel good. But for the first time in my life, I am learning what it feels like to be the person that gets helped. And it turns out that feels good too.
To my family and friends, I am very, truly grateful for you. The things you've done for me have not gone unnoticed or overlooked. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I have started to bank your favors so I can someday pay you back in return. Yeah, I know you weren't looking for payback, but I want to make sure I do something that lets you know I love you. Because I do <3
Friday, December 2, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
The One That Turned You Gay
My son was recently in a youtube video that has made many of my family members and friends uncomfortable. The video was made by a youtube sensation guy that has almost three million followers. This sensation guy is also a very nice young man with a very creative streak. In this particular video he had my son starring as a younger version of himself and being put in some very awkward situations. The video is called "The One That Turned You Gay" and includes male strippers, penis shaped cookies and cross-dressing as Britney Spears. Yep, you read that right, my son was dressed up as Britney Spears and ate penis shaped cookies.
Half of the viewer comments on the video were things like "Now that kid is going to turn gay!" and "How could his parents let him do that?!". But the other half of the comments were "That kid is a good actor." and "He must be really funny to get the jokes in that video!". Well...doing a video spoof will not turn you gay, either you are or you're not, end of that story. And yes, he is a good actor, with a really great sense of humor, and totally gets all the jokes in the video.
What most people don't know about this video is that the youtube sensation guy made it as a response to his sadness over teenagers committing suicide because they are being bullied for being gay. The message in the video is that no matter how you were raised, you are what you are. And if you happen to be gay, that's totally okay.
I can't make my friends and family feel any better about the video by explaining that this will not ruin his chances of becoming president of the United States someday, or turn him into some gay prostitute on Venice Beach. All I can say is that he's fine, no harm done. And if you knew my kid the way I know my kid, you would know that this is not a big deal. In fact, he's proud to spread a message of "it's okay to be gay" to almost three million followers. Even if that means he had to do it dressed up as Britney Spears and eat penis shaped cookies.
Half of the viewer comments on the video were things like "Now that kid is going to turn gay!" and "How could his parents let him do that?!". But the other half of the comments were "That kid is a good actor." and "He must be really funny to get the jokes in that video!". Well...doing a video spoof will not turn you gay, either you are or you're not, end of that story. And yes, he is a good actor, with a really great sense of humor, and totally gets all the jokes in the video.
What most people don't know about this video is that the youtube sensation guy made it as a response to his sadness over teenagers committing suicide because they are being bullied for being gay. The message in the video is that no matter how you were raised, you are what you are. And if you happen to be gay, that's totally okay.
I can't make my friends and family feel any better about the video by explaining that this will not ruin his chances of becoming president of the United States someday, or turn him into some gay prostitute on Venice Beach. All I can say is that he's fine, no harm done. And if you knew my kid the way I know my kid, you would know that this is not a big deal. In fact, he's proud to spread a message of "it's okay to be gay" to almost three million followers. Even if that means he had to do it dressed up as Britney Spears and eat penis shaped cookies.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Going all granola
Ever since I moved to California, many of my friends have accused me of "Going all granola". I like argue that they're wrong. I was a fairly healthy eater back when I lived in Chicago. I had steel cut oatmeal for breakfast, tried not to eat fried foods and kept a semi-vegetarian diet. Except when I craved a really juicy burger; then I was a carnivore all the way.
After I moved to California, I found it was easier to live a healthier lifestyle. I upped the ante on my steel cut oats, creating my own meusli, full of oat bran and flax and wheat germ. The sorts of grains that will clear a person's colon in a matter of minutes. Then I added some sulfate-free dried fruits and mixed it with unsweetened almond milk. I would wash my grainy concoction down with a fresh fruit smoothie or organic veggie juice. Lunch would be organic Greek yogurt mixed with some raw wildflower honey made by happy local bees and a bowl of fresh fruit. Dinner might be fresh made sushi (with brown rice of course) or perhaps a big spinach salad with avocado and steamed salmon.
I swore up and down that this was not at all out of the ordinary, and by no means "going all granola", but the truth was I didn't eat fresh, organic, raw foods back when I lived in the Mid-West. Partly because I didn't have access to fresh picked local fruit and veggies all year long. But mostly because I ate like a mid-westerner...happy to eat pizzas thick with cheese and burgers every week. Yeah! But somehow, after moving to the land of thin and healthy, eating like that seemed less tasty. And homemade meusli looked better than ever.
I'm still going to argue that I haven't "gone all granola". After all, I don't have hairy armpits or smoke pot. I just eat well and exercise. Oh, and I wear my Uggs in the summer, but whatever.
After I moved to California, I found it was easier to live a healthier lifestyle. I upped the ante on my steel cut oats, creating my own meusli, full of oat bran and flax and wheat germ. The sorts of grains that will clear a person's colon in a matter of minutes. Then I added some sulfate-free dried fruits and mixed it with unsweetened almond milk. I would wash my grainy concoction down with a fresh fruit smoothie or organic veggie juice. Lunch would be organic Greek yogurt mixed with some raw wildflower honey made by happy local bees and a bowl of fresh fruit. Dinner might be fresh made sushi (with brown rice of course) or perhaps a big spinach salad with avocado and steamed salmon.
I swore up and down that this was not at all out of the ordinary, and by no means "going all granola", but the truth was I didn't eat fresh, organic, raw foods back when I lived in the Mid-West. Partly because I didn't have access to fresh picked local fruit and veggies all year long. But mostly because I ate like a mid-westerner...happy to eat pizzas thick with cheese and burgers every week. Yeah! But somehow, after moving to the land of thin and healthy, eating like that seemed less tasty. And homemade meusli looked better than ever.
I'm still going to argue that I haven't "gone all granola". After all, I don't have hairy armpits or smoke pot. I just eat well and exercise. Oh, and I wear my Uggs in the summer, but whatever.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Childless parenting and other easy jobs
Overheard - a young childless couple saying "I would never let my kids do that." Really? How would you know?!
I want childless people to stop thinking they know what's best for other people's children. I want parents of young children to stop thinking they know what's best for teenagers. And I want parents of teenagers to stop thinking they know what's best for young adult children. I want parents of one child to stop thinking they know how to parent multiple children. I want parents of only girls to stop thinking they know how to parent boys. And vise versa. Seeing a trend here?
I once caught myself thinking that I wouldn't do something that my friend with five kids was doing. But I only have two kids. Totally different. Maybe if I had five kids I would do the same. How would I know!? My kids are so different from each other, and so different from other kids, that I can't even comment on other families with the "same" set-up: two kids/a boy and a girl/teenagers. I also remember, before I had my own children, commenting on the parenting abilities of a friend's kids. I knew I was right. In fact, I knew everything back then. And then I had kids of my own. Game changer! I remember hearing a friend say "I hate when parents talk to their kids when they are on the phone with me. When I have kids I'll never do that." And then they do. And worse, deny that they ever said that. Sheesh.
What I'm saying is that every family dynamic is different. And no one should be thinking "Hey, I would do it better if I were in your shoes." Because you have no idea what it's like to be in those shoes. You are too busy strutting your own shoes to know any better.
I want childless people to stop thinking they know what's best for other people's children. I want parents of young children to stop thinking they know what's best for teenagers. And I want parents of teenagers to stop thinking they know what's best for young adult children. I want parents of one child to stop thinking they know how to parent multiple children. I want parents of only girls to stop thinking they know how to parent boys. And vise versa. Seeing a trend here?
I once caught myself thinking that I wouldn't do something that my friend with five kids was doing. But I only have two kids. Totally different. Maybe if I had five kids I would do the same. How would I know!? My kids are so different from each other, and so different from other kids, that I can't even comment on other families with the "same" set-up: two kids/a boy and a girl/teenagers. I also remember, before I had my own children, commenting on the parenting abilities of a friend's kids. I knew I was right. In fact, I knew everything back then. And then I had kids of my own. Game changer! I remember hearing a friend say "I hate when parents talk to their kids when they are on the phone with me. When I have kids I'll never do that." And then they do. And worse, deny that they ever said that. Sheesh.
What I'm saying is that every family dynamic is different. And no one should be thinking "Hey, I would do it better if I were in your shoes." Because you have no idea what it's like to be in those shoes. You are too busy strutting your own shoes to know any better.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
The Bar Method
So what does it take to kick Midlife square in the ass? Well, for starters, the ability to kick anything would be nice. But sadly I didn't have much in the ass kicking ability department when I turned 40. So I have made it my mission to change that. I am going to be a stronger, meaner Minja. Or perhaps go the the ER trying.
First up, something called The Bar Method. Yes, I understand that staring with an exercise that doesn't involve any contact with my fellow exercisers can't really teach me to kick butt, but I wanted to start off easy. Boy was I wrong. The Bar Method blends ballet, by doing stretchy moves at the barre, with Pilates, by focusing on the core muscles almost the entire time. My first (several) lessons were hard, but not nearly as hard as having to walk down the stairs and back to my car after the lesson. I had to slowly lower myself down each and every step and then hobble back to my car all the way across the tiny parking lot. Not cool. I did okay during the class, kept up with the teacher, and didn't have to give up mid-exercise too many times. But immediately after the class my body said HA! I know I wasn't the only one working hard there; I heard plenty of groaning during the class. But why did it take me 5 minutes to walk the 50 feet to my car afterwords? And why were all the other ladies in my class were half way home before I could even get my jello-y arm to shift into reverse? Ugh.
Whatever. I will stay with it. The teacher said that the shaking in my legs means I'm actually doing something, changing them for the better. And I really want better legs. Stronger legs. Booty kicking legs! Plus I have paid in advance for one full month of classes, and being the cheapo that I am, I intend to go as many times as possible in the month...you know, to get my money's worth.
I'll keep you posted on my progress...assuming I can still lift my arms high enough to reach the computer keyboard. :)
First up, something called The Bar Method. Yes, I understand that staring with an exercise that doesn't involve any contact with my fellow exercisers can't really teach me to kick butt, but I wanted to start off easy. Boy was I wrong. The Bar Method blends ballet, by doing stretchy moves at the barre, with Pilates, by focusing on the core muscles almost the entire time. My first (several) lessons were hard, but not nearly as hard as having to walk down the stairs and back to my car after the lesson. I had to slowly lower myself down each and every step and then hobble back to my car all the way across the tiny parking lot. Not cool. I did okay during the class, kept up with the teacher, and didn't have to give up mid-exercise too many times. But immediately after the class my body said HA! I know I wasn't the only one working hard there; I heard plenty of groaning during the class. But why did it take me 5 minutes to walk the 50 feet to my car afterwords? And why were all the other ladies in my class were half way home before I could even get my jello-y arm to shift into reverse? Ugh.
Whatever. I will stay with it. The teacher said that the shaking in my legs means I'm actually doing something, changing them for the better. And I really want better legs. Stronger legs. Booty kicking legs! Plus I have paid in advance for one full month of classes, and being the cheapo that I am, I intend to go as many times as possible in the month...you know, to get my money's worth.
I'll keep you posted on my progress...assuming I can still lift my arms high enough to reach the computer keyboard. :)
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Pollyanna
My friends often mock me for being a Pollyanna. And truthfully, I can't disagree with them. If you look up Pollyanna on Wikipedia you'll read "Research indicates that, at the unconscious level, our minds have a tendency to focus on the optimistic while, at the conscious level, we have a tendency to focus on the negative. This unconscious bias towards the positive is often described as the Pollyanna principle." I, on the other hand, quite consciously focus on the optimistic side. When something bad happens I always look for the good in it. And if I can't find the good right away, I tell myself that everything happens for a reason and I'll just have to wait to find out why.
I am always glad that I have this kind of attitude because I can't stand hearing about people wallowing in misery and seeking pity. Yes, of course, horrible things happen that are next to impossible to find any good in. And thankfully I have never had to suffer some sort of unspeakable tragedy that has unhinged me enough to shed my Pollyanna ways. In fact, I consider myself a very lucky person. Sure, I never win raffles, my name has never been picked from the thousands of tickets I leave at Trader Joes for bringing my own shopping bags and I don't even bother buying lottery tickets anymore. But I have a wonderful husband, two amazing children, a beautiful house and awesome pets. I even love my old car. I'm very lucky indeed!
I believe that keeping an optimistic, glass three-quarters full attitude actually keeps bad things from happening. And today I believe it even more. Today, my husband got into a car accident with a semi-truck on a snowy road far from home. Thankfully my husband is a great driver, and thankfully he made some evasive moves that definitely kept this accident from becoming tragic. And although his car suffered some serious damage, he is very lucky that he walked away unscathed. Basically there were three options for him today: 1. get completely crushed/wiped out by the jack-knifing semi-truck, 2. get pushed over the guardrail and straight down the side of a cliff, or 3. manage to position his car perfectly between the guardrail and the out of control semi-truck so that only the side of his car was damaged. Thankfully my husband scored that third option! So when he called to tell me what happened, I immediately saw the good in all this and told him he was sooooo lucky.
I sleep well every night knowing that my life really is awesome. All I wish is for everyone to share this same kind of optimistic attitude with me. Pollyanna was a young girl with infectious optimism, and I for one am okay with being called a Pollyanna.
I am always glad that I have this kind of attitude because I can't stand hearing about people wallowing in misery and seeking pity. Yes, of course, horrible things happen that are next to impossible to find any good in. And thankfully I have never had to suffer some sort of unspeakable tragedy that has unhinged me enough to shed my Pollyanna ways. In fact, I consider myself a very lucky person. Sure, I never win raffles, my name has never been picked from the thousands of tickets I leave at Trader Joes for bringing my own shopping bags and I don't even bother buying lottery tickets anymore. But I have a wonderful husband, two amazing children, a beautiful house and awesome pets. I even love my old car. I'm very lucky indeed!
I believe that keeping an optimistic, glass three-quarters full attitude actually keeps bad things from happening. And today I believe it even more. Today, my husband got into a car accident with a semi-truck on a snowy road far from home. Thankfully my husband is a great driver, and thankfully he made some evasive moves that definitely kept this accident from becoming tragic. And although his car suffered some serious damage, he is very lucky that he walked away unscathed. Basically there were three options for him today: 1. get completely crushed/wiped out by the jack-knifing semi-truck, 2. get pushed over the guardrail and straight down the side of a cliff, or 3. manage to position his car perfectly between the guardrail and the out of control semi-truck so that only the side of his car was damaged. Thankfully my husband scored that third option! So when he called to tell me what happened, I immediately saw the good in all this and told him he was sooooo lucky.
I sleep well every night knowing that my life really is awesome. All I wish is for everyone to share this same kind of optimistic attitude with me. Pollyanna was a young girl with infectious optimism, and I for one am okay with being called a Pollyanna.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
My Rockin' Hot Boss
I work for a lady with a rockin' hot body. She's a mom in her mid-30s but she's one of those rare breeds that can happily wear the shortest of short-shorts and not look silly. Yeah, her boobs are fake, her tan is fake, her nails are fake, her hair color is fake, even half the hair on her head is fake. Plus she wears more makeup in one day than I wear in a year. But still, she's got a rockin' hot body. Her legs and butt are awesome and to the best of my knowledge those are real. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that she used to be a lingerie model? Yup, she was. And I get to work next to her.
Sometimes having a person with brains (she owns her own successful business), beauty (see above description) and tons of money (her husband also owns his own successful business) around you on a regular basis can become a motivational tool. Or, in my case, it can just be a drag. No matter how hard I try, I will never look like her. I realize that's because I am waaaay too lazy to go the extra mile that she has gone. I am not going to get a boob job. I am not going put in hair extensions. And I am not going to get a fake tan (those spray booths really freak me out!) Of course it's important to note that I keep my hair super short because I am far too lazy to style it. And I only break out the eyeliner and mascara for weddings and funerals. So clearly I am nowhere near her league of visual reconstruction. However, I'm okay with that.
I seriously thought that if I worked out I could get the legs and ass that she has, but that's just not happening. What was I thinking? I would go to my little exercise classes a couple times a weeks and presto, hot body? Yup, that is exactly what I was thinking. Sadly, I didn't even have her legs and ass even when I was super thin back in high school. I had cellulite (something I've been told can be covered up with a fake tan) and jiggly thighs even then. I barely weighed 115 lbs and still had a sqooshie tooshie. I looked in to liposuction once, but decided it was totally out of the question when I heard that the fat comes back, but in a different location. I do not need ass fat on my arms! I am not okay with that.
I remind myself that I eat well and exercise to stay healthy, not to look hot. Should consider buying some under-eye concealer, or maybe some of that body lotion that makes you look tanner after a couple weeks? Probably. But I also remind myself that I'm too lazy to actually use it longer than a couple days. And so, I am left with my pale skin and naturally curvy body and manly haircut. On most days I'm okay with that.
It's important to note that I really do like my boss. Once you get past the fake blond hair and the big fake boobs, she's a really fun lady with a wicked snarky sense of humor. And I'm totally okay with that!
Sometimes having a person with brains (she owns her own successful business), beauty (see above description) and tons of money (her husband also owns his own successful business) around you on a regular basis can become a motivational tool. Or, in my case, it can just be a drag. No matter how hard I try, I will never look like her. I realize that's because I am waaaay too lazy to go the extra mile that she has gone. I am not going to get a boob job. I am not going put in hair extensions. And I am not going to get a fake tan (those spray booths really freak me out!) Of course it's important to note that I keep my hair super short because I am far too lazy to style it. And I only break out the eyeliner and mascara for weddings and funerals. So clearly I am nowhere near her league of visual reconstruction. However, I'm okay with that.
I seriously thought that if I worked out I could get the legs and ass that she has, but that's just not happening. What was I thinking? I would go to my little exercise classes a couple times a weeks and presto, hot body? Yup, that is exactly what I was thinking. Sadly, I didn't even have her legs and ass even when I was super thin back in high school. I had cellulite (something I've been told can be covered up with a fake tan) and jiggly thighs even then. I barely weighed 115 lbs and still had a sqooshie tooshie. I looked in to liposuction once, but decided it was totally out of the question when I heard that the fat comes back, but in a different location. I do not need ass fat on my arms! I am not okay with that.
I remind myself that I eat well and exercise to stay healthy, not to look hot. Should consider buying some under-eye concealer, or maybe some of that body lotion that makes you look tanner after a couple weeks? Probably. But I also remind myself that I'm too lazy to actually use it longer than a couple days. And so, I am left with my pale skin and naturally curvy body and manly haircut. On most days I'm okay with that.
It's important to note that I really do like my boss. Once you get past the fake blond hair and the big fake boobs, she's a really fun lady with a wicked snarky sense of humor. And I'm totally okay with that!
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