Why do old women cry?

I find that getting older tends to bring about some changes that I loath/laugh at. I'm not talking about the usual physical and biological changes of middle aged woman hood. I'm not so self centered that I'm going to drone on about becoming old and frumpy.

I had my fourth knee surgery a couple months ago. It was a new and exciting way to celebrate Valentine's Day. No, that wasn't really my plan. I was however told that based on the poor condition of my knee, I'm already and candidate for joint replacement. Getting old sucks! Ok, so I'm not exactly a candidate for the cover of Runner's World or anything. I honestly had hopes of getting in shape, a shape other than round, and being more active. It's funny how motivating a threat such as knee replacement can be. I've been rather quiet for a while about some of the steps I've taken to try and be just a bit more healthy. In all honesty, I plan to blame/thank my brother Pete.

Pete came by for a visit a week after my knee surgery. It's always nice to spend time with a fellow Mac devotee. Also, he's my big brother, what's not to like? (we'll skip the trauma he induced in my youth...it was his job...and I'm sure I deserved some of it). Oh, back to why Pete is the reason for me trying to be...better.

The bitch showed up weighing less than me! There are 8 years and at least 3 inches of height between us. I should never weigh more than my big brother. Call it selfish logic if you will, but it all makes sense in my head. Anyway, so Pete and his wife jumped on the calorie counting bandwagon and have been losing weight like it's money to spend. It wasn't until I was around someone making big changes that I saw the train wreck that my health was becoming. My blood pressure was too high, my weight was at a number that I don't want to talk about, and overall, I felt like garbage. And I'm a candidate for knee replacement. Somehow the bright light of good intentioned change finally came on above my head. After he left, I did a lot of thinking. I have friends who swear by P90X, others who think beer is the key to weight loss, and a few friends who adore Weight Watchers. P90X isn't really an option yet, my knee is still too unstable for much beyond walking. Beer, well, I'm basically allergic to it, so that was out. Weight Watchers however, is free for me. I work for a company that recognizes good health leads to lower insurance, a stronger workforce...blah blah blah. And because they see that, they will pay for weight loss programs.

Ok, I said it, I joined Weight Watchers. It took me a long time to realize that I wasn't doing such a great job of self directing my life. We've all been told a time or two that recognizing we need help is a huge step. In 8 weeks I've lost 12 pounds, my blood pressure is lower, and I don't feel like stale dog poop in an old grocery bag. I still have more to lose, but I don't weigh much more than my big brother anymore. I also seem to have a much greater wardrobe, as all kinds of clothes fit me now. In all of this, I've learned the vegetables are yummy, I'm addicted to carrots, and sometimes...ok, most times...change is good. Getting back to some sort of exercise is the next step...baby steps.

The one thing that Weight Watchers can't answer for me is this whole issue of getting older and somehow becoming more emotional. I have always prided myself on being the person who doesn't cry at movies. Don't ask my why I pride myself on this. I honestly have no idea. Anyway, I was never one to get misty over a Hallmark commercial, cry at weddings, or any of that sappy stuff. My body seems to have decided that this will now change.

I'm 34, I joined Weight Watchers to lose weight...and I get misty over sappy things now.

WHAT THE HELL?!?!?!

Weight loss is good...becoming an emotional basket case...not so good. I oppose getting old.

My own Christmas Miracle

I spent a few weeks worrying about Christmas this year. This is the first year that I will be waking up without family or loved ones by my side. I have plans to see dear friends through the day, but waking up alone was for some reason terrifying to me. I have some to terms with it...as my brother always says to me "It is what it is". Tonight...the heavens above smiled upon me. No, I didn't bring a woman home for Christmas Eve. Seriously, if I did would I be posting on a blog right now? Give me a little credit.

This years Christmas Eve was full of small miracles that remind me of all that is beautiful and amazing. It started with a facebook post from one of my favorite former managers. Seems she bought quite the awesome toy for her 4 year old son this year...but alas, a change in life left her without tools this Christmas. Being the helpful sort that I am, I was happy to lend a hand and some tools. And when have I ever passed up a chance to build stuff? It was a small hour of my day, filled with fun conversation and knowing that I was building a toy that would make a boy smile for many months.

I came to enjoy a little nap before church. Despite my varied religious opinions and beliefs, I loved attending Christmas Eve services. Lucky for me the Unitarian Universalist church always has a good one. I began attending the church a few months ago. There is something that just feels good about spending a Sunday morning in the company of like minded people and taking a moment to appreciate what life has to offer. I was excited to attend Christmas Eve service with this new group of people that have so graciously welcomed me to their spiritual home. I arrived ten minutes before the service was to start and was so happy as I entered the door. I love when a service has a candlelit component to it. There is something so overwhelmingly peaceful when a church is lit by candles. I grabbed a seat near the back, amongst a row of empty seats and patiently waited for the service to start. At first I was worried about how empty the church seamed, and them I remember I was attending a UU service. UU's aren't know for their punctuality. As I sat reading over the order of service, an older woman came walking up with that "Where should I sit look". I motioned for her to join the empty aisle I was sitting it and she graciously accepted. I should send her a thank you card. With her sat her daughter, who held in her beauty that would make Matisse cry with joy.

I laugh about it because as I got ready for church tonight, I made sure to look nice and smell good. You never now when you might meet a beautiful woman, you had best be prepared. As we sat through the service she laughed at my terrible jokes which I take as a good sign. Her mother made it a point to tell me that her daughter teaches the Thursday Yoga classes at the church. I think I need to go out and buy a Yoga mat...I swear she might have been a Christmas Angel.

I have no idea if she is a fan of the fairer sex...and frankly I don't care. I will be happy for days thinking about this woman who has a smile that you feel blessed to bring out and eyes that you could stare into for days.

I have much to be thankful this year. Today, I feel like I'm on top of the world. I sat next to one of the most stunning women I have ever seen, and she wished me a Merry Christmas with that smile of hers.

Heart of an Athlete

I love sports. Go ahead and say it, "You're a lesbian, of course you love sports!" It's not quite as simple as that. I have loved sports for as long as I can remember. In my youth, I had grand plans of being a world champion kick ball player. Between my ghost runners and myself, we were a pretty aggressive team. When I got in Middle School, as soon as I was able I joined the cross country team. It was the first fall sport I could participate in that interested me. Volleyball held no appeal...and today the only appeal of that sport to me is women's beach volleyball. I'll leave you to figure that out on your own. Cross Country was not what I had envisioned. Somehow I thought that since I was young and passionate...I would be great. Sadly, I was a bit chubby, and not even slightly in shape. Dreams of being the best cross country runner quickly died. Later that year I have basketball a try. To date, it's still one of my favorite sports to watch. I didn't last long, as I wasn't as tall or fast as any of the other girls on the team. I did stick around to be a fabulous team manager though. I finished the rest of my middle school days on stage. Who knew that theatre would be a bigger and brighter passion for me.

High school came along, and I actually made the varsity girls basketball team my junior year. However, other passions took priority over basketball, so once again sports took a back burner to other pursuits. I spent all of my college days on a stage in one way or another, but I still loved sports.

After college I got talked into playing rugby. Rugby to this day is a sport that I love blindly and with complete passion. I think I was ok at rugby, but I can't be sure. In our minds we all think we are world class players, at least for a little while. Injury came along and kept me from sports ever since. I have had 4 surgeries in the span of 3 years. Every time I think about getting back into some sort of athletic pursuit...injury shows up.

Upon returning to Colorado, a friend foolishly thought that asking me to play softball was a good idea. Lesbians are all great at softball, right? Allow me to introduce my ability to defy all convention. I am terrible at softball, running around the bases is a daunting and exhausting task for me. Also, there seems to be an orange bag at first base now that holds some importance....who knew?

As I get older, I accept the fact that maybe participation in sports isn't for me. It doesn't keep me from having a few dreams that I'd like to see come to true...dreams that I will keep to myself for now. Just know that I am great for being to person to attend live sports with. I will cheer and root for whichever team you tell me to. After the sporting event I will talk about becoming the best and brightest fan...and it will last a few fleeting minutes until something else comes along. I have yet to figure out of this means that I don't have the heart to be an athlete or if it means that I have severe ADD.

EDIT: Within hours of writing this post, my knee reminded me of it's power, or lack there of...again. Once again I can't straighten my leg or put any weight on it.

The more things change

As I was leaving work today I was chatting with a friend about all sorts of nonsense, and he mentioned that I should write a blog. I laughed, because aside from personal venting on LJ, I haven't touched this blog in over a year. After some thought I figured what the hell...I've got the time. I read through old posts and deleted the ones that had to do solely with my ex. She is still mentioned from time to time in the old posts...and really, we can't erase history no matter how much we try to ignore it.

So, once again, I'm back to blogging. I can't promise anything deep or profound, but it is a chance to get inside my head from time to time. And in honor of the man who albeit foolishly convinced me to head back into blogging...let's discuss peer pressure.

The holidays are upon us and I am often quoted as saying "I hate holidays". This typically generates a response from people that I know telling me that I don't actually hate holidays. Yes, yes I do. However, it's not for the reasons that people readily consider. See, I am terrible with expectations, and I have an amazing tendency to self impose some insane expectations. With the onset of the holidays I find that people expect others to act a certain way. Some expect certain greetings during the holidays, others are offended by greetings, and some altogether just try to avoid the topic.

I'm not a huge fan of Christmas decorations or trees or any of that other nonsense. Frankly I find trees to be a royal pain. Real or fake they are messy and take all sorts of time to decorate and make pretty enough for the people you think might see them. I have very few visitors at my home, and even fewer of those few visitors will be around during the holidays. All the talk of trees and decorating and such....I admit it, I caved. I bought a tree. My old tree is with mom in Alaska, I wasn't worried about needing one when I moved back to CO. The one small bonus of having a tree is Rudolf. See, I can't stand all the chaos at holidays, but I LOVE LOVE LOVE Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer. I could start a speech about how Rudolf was one of the original pioneers of surviving bullying and teaching diversity...but I'll save that for the day I am on a pulpit. Yep, I did something because I felt like I was expected to. Talk about peer pressure at its best.

And for the record, I hate holidays and other celebrations because in my twisted brain I think people expect certain reactions from me. I'm afraid that I won't live up to the expectations of others and how they hope I will react to any variety of things. This curses me both personally and professionally. Think I'm kidding? Just ask about the time I had a crying meltdown when I found out that my dear mother was throwing me a surprise birthday party...I was terrified that my reaction to the "surprise" wouldn't live up to the expectations of the guests. So, if you see me shy away from celebrations, it's not that I don't want to enjoy a good time. It's because I'm convinced that whatever my reaction is to the event that I will disappoint you.

Oh, and after looking back over the old posts...I still work in insurance, and in a call center. And I still hate people who scream at me thinking things will change...and I still want more for myself. We'll see how that goes.

Saving the Scarecrow

I haven't posted to this blog in nearly a year. Nothing seemed all that worth posting after my post about Rick. It took me a long time to realize why he meant so very much to me. When I started working at the YSU Planetarium, I had just lost my job in the YSU theatre department. One could argue the reasons as to why I lost that job, but today none of that really matters. At the time I thought that theatre was my whole life, and losing a job in theatre, I felt like everything that I had been working for was lost. Working in the planetarium showed me just how much more to performing there was in the spectrum of things. I would never have seen any of that if it weren't for Rick.

My entire life changed direction in the time that I worked for Rick, and I don't know that I could ever really capture in words just how much I owe him. The night that Kate called me to tell me that Rick had first suffered his heart attack I began thinking about how I would show the world how much this man meant to me. Initially I thought I might get a tattoo of a scarecrow. Somewhere I have a picture of Rick dressed as a scarecrow for Halloween, and to this day it is one of the most enduring images I have of this man. Over time, the idea of a memorial sundial in honor of Rick began to take shape. It was then that I knew a tattoo of a sundial was the right tattoo. (yes, tattoo, I'm a permanent kind of gal) There is a very simple yet very beautiful sundial in the Forbidden City in Beijing that speaks to me. I'm sure it has to do with the fact that so far all of my tattoo's have been Chinese. My goal is to have this sundial represent the time of 10:15, the day Rick passed.

I just learned that the design for the Rick Pirko memorial sundial has been approved. I am hoping to get my hands on a picture of the design, as that would be beyond perfection for the tattoo I want. However, if I can't get that, the sundial I have chosen will work out just as well.

What makes the whole thing even more "right" is that I will be getting this tattoo the weekend that I attend a protest march, and see Kate and Tim. It feels like the weekend is designed by Rick...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

So long scarecrow

Waiting for someone to pass is easily in my top five of worst feelings in the world. Last night I got word that a former boss, and all around amazing person is not going to be with us much longer. Rick Pirko was the definition of non-conformist, he did things for humor and the pursuit of knowledge. He has the heart and mind of a curious child most days. Rick was never arrogant, and never once would I question if he would be there if I needed something.

It seems that Rick's heart stopped suddenly yesterday, and know we're all in this awful waiting game. It seems fitting however that Rick would go at his favorite time of the year. If you ever had the opportunity to see the Halloween Laser light show at the Ward Beecher Planetarium in Youngstown, you enjoyed a genuine treat. It is because of the planetarium that I have some of my closest friends...in the least, we became better friends because of that place. I have many memories of very late nights getting ready for the most attended show at the planetarium. I will never forget watching Rick take a broken piece of a band saw blade to a belt sander and filing it down into one of the sharpest damn knives I ever held. It was with those knives that we carved countless pumpkins grown from Rick's own garden. Most of the decorations for the show were from Rick's garden....Rick is the only man I have ever known to eat raw pumpkin with sheer joy on his face.

When Tim and Kate got married, Rick and I were partners in the wedding party. The planetarium clearly was a special place for Tim and Kate, as they held their wedding their. I can't imagine ever forgetting Rick and I dancing at the wedding...apparently I led the whole time. A brilliant awkward man and a lesbian made for a dreadful dance pair...thankfully all eyes were on the newly married folks.

To this day one of my favorite stories about Rick has to do with his fight for religious freedom. It may not be as noble as that, but I will always tell the story that way. See, anytime Rick would stay in a hotel, he would open the drawer on the bed stand and smile when he saw the bible ever so generously placed there by the Gideon's. Before leaving the room, Rick would steal the bible. He must have had 100 bibles the last time I saw the collection he so proudly would show everyone in his office at the planetarium. If I could have one item to remember Rick by, it would be one of those bibles. I know that I have never stayed in a hotel since knowing Rick without thinking about taking the bible with me. For all we know, it could be a Muslim staying in the room, and I doubt there are any free copies of the Koran laying around. Not that it matters, but Rick is a very proud atheist...but if you need a bible, he would gladly hand you one of the countless copies sitting in a drawer.

As far as I know, Rick is still alive, at least in the medical sense of the word. I'm sitting here at work waiting to hear...and in my own way praying that he will pull out of this. I almost expect Rick to suddenly wake up and wonder why everyone is sitting in a hospital room staring at him. If I were in Ohio right now, I would head to the truck stop by his house and have a bowl of truck stop chili...and then go to bw's and raise a glass in his honor.

Without a doubt, Rick Pirko is one of the best things that I got from YSU.

Needing more

Having worked in call centers for nearly 4 years, I have mastered customer service and sounding as if I care.  In the past few weeks I have developed complete and total hatred of my job.  Either I'm becoming over sensitive (which I doubt) or customers are getting meaner.  I've had more people scream at me in the past few days than I care to count.  I respect that everyone is having money issues, and that auto insurance seems like a racket.  However, does anyone realize that nothing I say or do will change anything in the minds of the executives?  When I first began working for the big P, there was a great deal of opportunity for advancement, which is something I have always wanted.  I'm entirely too smart and driven to sit at a desk answering phones for the rest of my life.  In moving to Colorado, I was advised that there weren't many opportunities for advancement.  I wish someone would have been honest...there are no opportunities out here.  It's great that I am getting my MBA, but it would be useless for me at work.  I learned earlier this week that IT people get a larger tuition reimbursement, once again reminding me that IT people are king at work, everyone else is there to keep IT working.  I have been applying and interviewing like crazy to just about anyplace.  I have my fingers crossed and am holding my breath that I get a call this afternoon from a bank.  It's another call center job, but there is a great deal of advancement opportunity, so I'm willing to tough it out long enough to move up the ladder.  For those who are the praying type...I could use any help I can get.

Christine and I are doing very well.  Communication is a billion times better, having had a handful of long talks has made all the difference.  Sadly Max has been sick all week, we think he might have pneumonia.  He goes back to the doctor today, so we'll see.

The loss of Stephanie Tubbs Jones has struck an odd chord with me...I feel quite saddened by it all.  Political opinions aside, she did amazing work for women, blacks, and Cleveland.

I need a new job, before I lose my mind.