If You Were a Tree

Jeez...Barbara Walters is writing memes now? (Remember Barbara is famous for asking "if you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?") I thought this meme, which I found on a new (to me) blog called "far from camelot" had questions which were kind of different. And since I have done almost nothing today and am reviewing a show tonight, I thought I would post this as the first meme of the month.

If you were a tree what kind of tree would you be?
A weeping willow.

What is your favorite color?
Red, though most of what I wear is blue. My favorite color has been red for as long as I can remember

You are invited to a large cocktail party at a country club. When you arrive, the room where the party is being held is already over half full of people. How do they react to you when you enter the room?
"Oh good lord--look what the cat drug in. I wonder who invited her."

What is your favorite drink?
Water. If it's something alcoholic, probably gin and tonic.

What would I find in your refrigerator right now?
Lots of very old food that needs to be thrown away, many jars of different kinds of outdated mustard (and I don't even particularly like mustard), leftovers (which will be gone at dinnertime), soft drinks that someone brought us after Paul died in 1999, salad dressings, apples and veggies in the crisper, meat ready to be cooked over the next couple of days, lots of cottage cheese for the dogs, eggs, milk, water. And other stuff.

What is the last book you read?
"Sarah's Key." Excellent book. I recommend it!

If you could trade places with any other person for a week, famous or not famous, living or dead, real or fictional, with whom would it be?
Queen Elizabeth II, so I can enjoy room service, have someone else plan dinner for me, and find out what's in that purse she carries everywhere.

What is your favorite movie?
Let's pick something other than A Star Is Born for a change. How about Dave or The Quiet Man or The Frisco Kid.

How would you explain a database in three sentences to your eight-year-old nephew?
Want to know how to remember where your toys are? Make a list on the computer. Remember to keep it updated when you move the toys.

If aliens landed in front of you and, in exchange for anything you desire, offered you any position on their planet, what would you want?
This question doesn't really make sense. In exchange for any thing *I* desire, I get any position on their planet? What's in it for the aliens? But what position on another planet would I like? I want it to be that planet in the Omicron Delta system, where Kirk and the members of the Enterprise went in "Shore Leave." I don't care what position I'd have, as long as my fantasies would come to life.

If you could be any character in fiction, who would you be?
I'm tempted to say Claire Randall, the heroine of Diana Gabaldon's books, but then I think of the challenges of living in 18th century Scotland and I'm not so sure!

If Hollywood made a movie about your life, who would you like to see play the lead role as you?
Rosie O'Donnell...someone who is not a size zero, who has compassion for lots of things, and who is braver than I.

If you were a type of food, what type of food would you be?
Turkey stuffing, fluffy and soft and squishy, and both sweet and savory.

If you won $20 million in the lottery, what would you do with the money?
Help our kids with their debts, make sure Brianna and Lacie's education was taken care of, and then see what I could do to help my sponsored kids. Wow--what water projects and schools $20 million could provide in Ghana, Uganda, Kenya, India, etc....

What kind of people do you dislike?
The kinds of Republicans who are in Congress right now and anybody who thinks they are right to do what they have done to bring the country to a screeching halt.

How many close friends do you have?
Fewer than I used to. Close friends? Probably 2. Other friends that I don't feel all that close to--a lot more.

How would you describe yourself in three words?
Compassionate, fat, sarcastic.

No More Helmet Head

I have been getting my hair cut at Supercuts for years. Maybe decades. I think I started when haircuts were $6. Now they're up to $13. The reason I have my hair cut there is that they are cheap and my semi curly hair has a mind of its own and pretty much does what it wants and looks the same all the time anyway. I'm not vain enough to do anything fancy with it, use "product" or anything. Just gimme the $13 special and I'm happy.

In all these years, I don't remember a bad haircut. I always give them the same instructions--to cut it about mid-ear length, to layer it and to leave the front long enough for bangs. I couldn't give a more complicated instruction to save my soul. I never learned about "hair" stuff.

The other thing about having my hair cut is that I'm blind as a bat when I take my glasses off, so I have to trust whoever it is who is cutting my hair. I can see my image in the mirror and I can see the cutting going on, but I can't tell what she is doing. I suppose I could tell if she shaved my head, but otherwise, I just have to trust that the combination of the hair cutter and my hair's insistence on doing what it wants all will be well.

Until last time.

It was a new person in Supercuts, but it seems that every time I go there it's a new person, so that was nothing unusual. I asked her how long she'd been there and she said two weeks.

We went through the usual instructions of mid-ear length, layer it, and leave the front long enough for bangs. I took off my glasses and she went to work. She asked a zillion questions--was this OK, did that look all right, did I want it like this. I said yes to everything, even though I couldn't see clearly enough to see what she was doing. I was, in fact, impressed with her because she was being so conscientious.

But after I'd paid and left and looked at myself closely, all I could think of was that I looked like I was wearing a German helmet, made out of wool. (I'm not sure why a "German" helmet came to mind, but it seemed to fit.)

Owell, I thought. When I wash it the curl will take over and it will look OK. Only it never did. Fortunately I'm not particularly vain about my hair or I would have gone around wearing a real hat (if I could find one that fit me--but that's another story).

After a week, I just wanted to have it fixed, but had to wait until it had grown out more. The more it grew, the worse it looked. What was worst of all was that it was straight. The curl seemed to be angry too and refuse to do anything but just grow straight and lie flat on my head. And long where it should have been short. It just got worse and worse. Walt started giggling when he looked at me.

This morning I went to the dentist and the hygenist looked at me and said "oh...you have a new hair do." I told her I was about to get rid of it today.

So after I had my good bill of health from the dental office, I went back to Supercuts. There was the same woman who had given me the Helmet Head. BUT, when my name was called, it was someone else who claimed me and I went off happily to her station. I confessed that my last cut had been THE worst haircut ever and told her, sotto voce, that it had been the other woman in the shop who had done it.

I also came prepared. When she asked what I wanted, I showed her a picture of a good hair day.

I took off my glasses and she set to work and I hoped that this time things would be better.

You never know for sure as you leave the shop, because hair is still wet, but when it dried, I was thrilled. "I" was back. My curl was back. Helmet Head was gone and I am a happy camper again.

Loss and Grief

As I have mentioned here probably more times than you want to read, the death of my friend Gilbert in 1986 was my first experience with loss. I had, of course, been to many funerals. I had even experienced the death of my sister, which should have been a big trauma, though since we had never been close, that loss was not as acute for me as others assumed it was. But Gilbert's death was the pivotal moment. The moment when I really began to experience grief, to know the meaning of "grief work."

The pain of Gilbert's death was compounded by the fact that my other good friend, Phil, who had been my close confidante for years (all fat girls should have gay confidantes!), chose that moment to end our friendship. It was a double whamy. The painful death and the slamming of a door which could not be re-opened. It was a terrible time.

I had also just started a new job at that time and didn't really know my co-workers all that well, but one woman, Debra Lilly, observing my depressed demeanor in the first days of my return to work went out at lunchtime and when she came back, she handed me a book. It was a thin little book called "How to Survive the Loss of a Love." I have been grateful to her ever since, though we lost contact years ago (only recently reconnected on Facebook).

The book dealt with all kinds of loss, from death, to the break-up of a romantic relationship, to the loss of a friendship, to something as simple as the loss of a tooth. It dealt with how our grief cycle goes, from taking years to recover to perhaps a couple of days to recover (as in the loss of a tooth, for example) and offered help in dealing with each of the stages of grief.

That book was my guide for months as I worked through losing both Gilbert and Phil. I read the book every day, and my gauge through my grief over Gilbert's death was how far I could get through the book before I started to cry. I never fully recovered from losing Phil, mostly because while the possibility was always there because he was still alive, there was never any closure. But in time I came to accept that there was nothing I could do about it. He's long dead now, and it still hurts.

I never joined any support group because I didn't know of one where you could bond with people who had lost friends, but I toughed it out on my own. Walt was here, of course, and sympathetic. He was sad about Gilbert's death too, but didn't feel it on the gut level that I did.

A friend lost her mother earlier this year. She's a "tough it out on my own" person as well, but she eventually joined a support group and was surprised at how much help she received from sharing her feelings with others in that group. Today there was a Service of Remembrance for all the members of all their grief groups and she invited me to come with her, which I decided to do.

It really was very nice.

The service was short, but meaningful. I liked the lighting of five candles (only four of which I remember): one for grief, that we grieve the loss of the person we loved, one for courage to move forward in life without the one we loved, one for memories of all the fun we had together and all the good things we shared, and one for hope as we move forward into life without the person we loved. It was very moving.

There was a ceremony where we all were given roses onto which we put the name of the person who died and put them each in a vase on a big table in front.

And then a guy sang a song which was designed to elicit the most emotion of the night. It looked like a mosh pit of some famous performer, with all those tissues waving in the air from all the boxes places all over the room, and all the nose-blowing as the singer sang.

When it was all over, there were refreshments and I met the others in my friend's support group--very nice people all, and all having lost parents. I overheard someone use a funny term something like "It's been two years and I still have 'grief brain.'"

I'm glad I went. I don't know that I really needed to be there, but joining with other people who have suffered great loss and feeling the supportive energy is always helpful for any painful loss. I hope.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen hobbies I’ve had in my life

1. Stamp collecting
2. Scrapbooking
3. Penpals
4. Collecting spoons
5. Photography
6. PhotoShop
7. Candle making
8. Bread baking
9. Envelope making
10. Collecting magnets
11. Journaling
12. Paint-by-Numbers
13. Cake Decorating

Ned's Haunted House Video

A Halloween Report

We planned to do what we usually do for Halloween, turn off the lights and stay at the back of the house, but then just as dinner was coming out of the oven, Ned called and invited us to come over to his friend Greg's house and see what they'd been doing all week.

We stuck dinner in the fridge and drove across town. I chose not to bring my camera, because we were going to see a haunted house, and any picture I would take would spoil the magic by lighting things up.

I've heard about this haunted house that Greg and Ned do each year, but this was the first time we had seen it. Oh. My!!!

Greg and Ned have been making video, making movies, and doing technical stuff ever since they became friends sometime back in junior high. Greg went on to become a professional theater technician and, among other things, Ned makes videos and writes jingles for the radio station for which he works (the videos are for the radio's web site). So this is something they have literally been doing together almost all of their lives.

Ned says they plan and create this haunted house over the week before Halloween, and the work shows.

We drove across Davis, seeing literally no trick or treaters anywhere (in fairness, it was kinda late for the little guys). There were no trick or treaters on the street leading to the turn-off to Greg's street. There were no trick or treaters in the two blocks before you got to Greg's house.

Even if we hadn't been to Greg's house before, we would have known it by the trick or treaters, by the cobwebs hanging all over the house and by the four heads on the ground singing (a projection from Disney's Haunted Mansion projected onto styrofoam heads) and the cemetery you picked your way through to get to the front door.

When you knock on the door, it slowly swings open (I didn't recognize the person at the door, but later it was their friend Sarah, dressed as some sort of a zombie bride) and someone hands you candy and directs you around the side of the house.

There is something to see in each window, whether skeletons lounging in a chair or playing the piano (the controls are behind the wall built to hide the room from the rest of the house), in another window Ned, whose body language a mother recognizes, was in a gorilla suit -- we had missed it when Marta had been there in a straight jacket ranting and raving. From time to time jets of air suddenly blew at you from the bushes. The whole effect was just great, and nothing short of professional.

Inside the house looked like a TV studio, with monitors and controls in one room and a monitor in the kitchen so those who just wanted to watch everyone's reaction on the closed circuit TV could watch it.

Greg's wife Kendra had goodies for the observers, some provided by Sarah's new restaurant, Stone Soup.

What a fun evening. It absolutely amazes me that they go through such a tremendous amount of work--and expense (for starters, Kendra guesstimated that they gave away ~300 full sized candy bars for treats) and that when they finally turned off the lights for the night, they were going to tear the whole thing down and pack it up to be moved back to storage for another year.

As Greg said, it was all about the memories and that even when these little kids who had been scared out of their wits (over and over again, as they insisted on going back around for one more fright experience) were adults, they might not remember their costumes, but they would always remember going to Greg & Kendra's house on Halloween.

And meanwhile, in Santa Barbara...

...and in Santa Barbara

What Have You Learned, Beverly?

They say you always learn from your experiences. I was thinking about that while we were driving around Southern California this week. Here are some thoughts and lessons I took away from that time:

1. I think the time has passed where I can drive in the LA area. I can barely ride in So. California traffic any more without heart failure, unless I keep my eyes closed all the time. Someone expressed anger at my first entry last week, when I wrote about being stuck in traffic on the 405. The comment was that this is what happens when people refuse to use public transportation. No...this is what happens when the work area spans many, many miles and public transportation is so poor. Too many people have to rely on their cars to get from the valley to the ocean, essentially, where no public transportation goes. As for all that traffic darting in and out, freeways branching off to the left, when you expect them to go to the right and you are 4 lanes over on the right, and all the other problems of driving in LA -- which I used to handle with aplomb...I'm just too out of practice and not nearly as brave as I used to be.

2. If you have to meet a deadline anywhere in the LA area, allow an hour more than you think you will need--and bring a book in case, by some miracle, you actually get there early (you probably won't).

3. Sony takes itself entirely too seriously. This is not NASA and taking a picture of the top of a GATE from the outside doesn't rise to the level that the screaming at me would warrant.

4. If you are going to steal a bit of hash browns off of your husband's plate, don't take the bit that has an orangish dot on it. This is not a bit of potato crust. This is tobasco sauce and it will burn your friggin' tongue off!

5. If your tongue is burning from sneaking a bit of your husband's hash browns at the breakfast table, a spoonful of maple syrup will cool it. Seriously. Plan ahead and order pancakes. (Or just don't try to sneak a bite)

6. Expensive hotels are not worth the price, unless you are on expense account. Our Comfort Inn on Tuesday was (a) larger, (b) had free wi-fi and free parking, (c) came with all the toiletries and you didn't have to call down for them, and (d) its restaurant was Dennys, which, while not as fancy as the Hilton's, at least didn't charge $4.50 for a cup of coffee and the food came faster than it did at the Hilton. Also, the price per night was significantly less.

7. Texting with friends in another car or at the destination where you are headed is a fun way to pass the time when you are stuck in traffic. It's even more fun if you both have memorized lines to iconic movies.

8. Whoopie Goldberg is right -- pads are great for that unexpected spritz or a bit of leakage.

9. Dr. Hogly Wogly's Tyler Texas BBQ is much nicer than you would think from the name, the neighborhood and the look of the outside. (Get the brisket. It's amazing. And they have the very best homemade bread!)

10. Hotels, even fancy ones, no longer give you free stationery and free postcards, nor can you even buy them there. Bummer for people who are into snail mail.

11. Jeopardy audiences look remarkably normal ... not at all like Says You audiences, who are definitely nerds.

12. It is now confirmed that my presence at Cal games really does guarantee a loss. I haven't attended a Cal game in decades, but when I did, they usually lost. They were expected to win the game with UCLA, but I was there, and they lost. Gloriously. They played as well as Notre Dame did against USC.

13. If I ever do attend another Cal game, I must learn the chants, hand signals, growls, shouts and other things that apparently you're supposed to do while sitting in the stands. Must also get a Cal t-shirt.

14. It really is more fun being a grandparent than a parent.

15. Old friends are still the best, even when you disagree vehemently with each other's beliefs. You can manage to avoid all the hot button issues and enjoy tales of each other's parents, children, grandchildren, various internal organs, mutual friends, past shared adventures and travel experiences and be back in your respective cars before any touchy subject threatens to pop up.

16. It is OK to flush if the person in the bathroom stall next to you is talking on the telephone.

17. It's wonderful that we all now have DVRs which will help ensure that we don't miss any of our regular TV programs while we are gone, and it's nice to come home to a stack of letters and cards, but trying to catch up feels like real work!