A Rapist, a Cobb Salad, and a Weird Bunion Thingie

There's a crazy rapist-murderer loose in my neighborhood (seems to happen every 5-8 years or so) and everyone's kinda on edge about it and a neighbor who lives right around the corner asked me if I wanted to walk my dog with her and her dog.  Of course I said, "Sure!"  (I don't see what could possibly go wrong.) 

Now, understand that my neighbor is a very fit size 2, an avid swimmer, and a yoga practitioner.  I, on the other hand, am an overweight, injured runner who has done a yoga or a balance ball video no more than twice a week for the past 3 weeks, and who swam occasionally in the summer.  I have also walked my dog probably 6 times every evening, to the park and back, right around another corner.  Did I say walked?  I think I meant meandered....  Anyway, my very fit walking companion and her very trim lab met us at the park.  When I say us, I mean myself and my short, squatty, slightly overweight Frenchie who looks kinda like the animal you would get if Wilbur from the Charlotte's Web movie had a baby with a sausage.  The four of us were like 2 frames from those videos where they show the split screens of people who look like their dogs.  Even so, she's so calm and easy-going that I was quite at ease.

The first awkward moment came when we walked through a parking lot and came to an iron fence with spikes all the way around at about waist level.  At one point, the fence gave way to a small hip-high chain which replaced the iron, for only about 6-8 inches, and then the waist-high-spikey iron continued on again.  I could tell she would easily have turned sideways and stepped over the chain --had I not been there-- like a graceful deer stepping over a felled tree in the forest.  I, on the other hand, nervously laughed, saying something like, "I'm not sure if I can fit through there..."  No problem.  She happily walked around to the end of the fence, and Olive and I followed.  She didn't break stride.

Past the fence and now on the neighborhood street, she and her dog were galloping, or trotting along... I'm not sure which because Olive and I usually reside in stroll-ville.  But, we're hanging with them, starting to breathe a little harder now, but still able to carry on a conversation, which, frankly, I am enjoying.  We make it to a wonderful grassy field not far from my home, that I wasn't aware existed, where apparently lots of people walk their dogs.  It's safe, a little woodsy, and away from traffic.  I usually am terrified of letting Olive off-leash, but her dog is good about staying near her with the ball, and I do know Olive will stay with a pack, so I take her off the leash and she waddles around near the skinny lab-girl, both as happy as can be to run and pant, and chase things.

Finally, after what seemed like only a few short minutes, with tongues hanging as low as the sun in the sky, the dogs were ready to head home, and we were too; lest we forget there's a crazy rapist-murderer on the loose.  We moved at a pretty quick clip back, and I, having caught my breath while the dogs played, was still feeling pretty good, my pesky plantar fasciitis not bothering me much at all.  We make it to my place, and they continue on, happily trotting away around the corner.  At last, in the safety of my tiny little 400-square-foot castle, I pour myself some water, and Olive collapses on the floor, trying to stop panting long enough to take a gulp of her own.

After a few minutes I felt hungry again.  I mean, before getting her invitation to walk I had been to the library directly after school, and then to our healthy grocery store here in town.  My blood sugar was so low at the store it was hard for me to decide what my Friday night dinner splurge would be.  I finally decided on a cobb salad, which was now waiting patiently for me in my fridge.  (Yeah, I know it may not be a splurge to some because the word "salad" is in the name.  But c'mon.  Eggs, bacon, avocado, bleu cheese, and home made ranch dressing?  And this one had olives too.  Mmmm.  Splurge.)

Oh, and after I ate, sitting on the couch playing Words with Friends, with my feet curled up beside me, I squished my toes together with my hand, and this weird bone near my pinky toe that's been sticking out and making me think I could have a bunion popped right back into place.  Yesssss!  Now that's what I call a Friday night!

So, how's your Friday night?

One Day at a Time or Get Yer Tampons Outta My Truck!

Ok, so I've jumped in with 2 feet to helping out my immediate community by serving on my Homeowners' Association Board of Directors.  It's been non-stop entertainment and work since I started.

Today I came home and found the following notice above the mailboxes.

Can I just say that I love that he mentions he's a man and has no use for tampons?  So, if you were a woman, you'd enjoy having those thrown into your truck because you could use them?  Also, kinda funny that he "can deal with" the fast food trash.  So the tampons are so offensive to his delicate sensibilities that they make him wish he had fast food trash in his truck?  And why are these presumably-unopened, new tampons more annoying than the strawberry yogurt?!  And is strawberry yogurt more annoying than blueberry would have been?  Or pineapple?  Would you seriously rather clean up strawberry yogurt than new tampons?  I bet he's a real tolerant boyfriend.

Then I did some yoga.  After that, I found a message that there are hot water problems in several units.  So, of course, I find myself traipsing around, knocking on doors, stepping inside people's units, looking at faucets, and asking about hot water problems.  I'm starting to feel like Schneider up in here.  Now where IS that pack of cigarettes?  Oh, of course.  Right here rolled up in my sleeve.

Calm your balls, Bitch!

It's a strong message to someone.  About... something.  But to whom?  And... what?

In the laundry room, there are 2 washers and 2 dryers.  Nothing is amiss, unless you count the blood red spots on the bulletin board, and the dry, fall leaves that blow in from the outdoor stairwell when the doors don't get closed.  Oh, and that message that reads, "Calm your balls, Bitch!" and appears to have been scrawled in angry thumbtack font.

Was someone mad because someone else took their clothes out of the dryer and lovingly placed them on the table?  If so, that person should really think about leaving a laundry basket below the dryer in which their clothes tumbled.

Was someone pissed about the powder detergent that was left clogging one of the appropriate cups in the washer?  You know, liquid really does work better, but I'm pretty sure there's a more refined way to express your dissatisfaction with the powdery mess.

Oooo, maybe it's a message to the dryer itself because it stole a sock or 3, instead of leaving the pairs intact!

Unfortunately, the angry laundry message shall remain a mystery.  For now.  Until more clues are revealed.  But rest assured, this Homeowners Association President will continue to search for clues, to unravel the mystery.  Until then, though, she'll just do her best to allay her fears of perishing in a tragic, all-too-common, dryer-sheet fire.

Abstinence is the best prevention... of insanity.

Recently, I did a self-guided retreat in my home.  I always love when I get the chance to have Thanksgiving on my own, and this was one of those years.  I had considered doing a silent retreat, but was too intimidated to do that, so I instead ended up doing a Social Interaction Fast/Heart Chakra Retreat.  That wasn't already a thing before me, it's a name I made up for the retreat that I wanted to have.  The point of it was to protect my heart chakra --which tends to be too open-- and allow for some real downtime.  My heart chakra tends to be very open, and I tend to be highly sensitive, which is a combination that allows my soul to be bombarded with other people's energy on a daily basis.  Being more intentional about how open my heart chakra is, and creating better boundaries in my life are things that take steady, deliberate work.  This retreat was going to be part of that work.

The retreat was going to be Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.  I had a massage scheduled for Tuesday morning, and after consulting with some healing arts practitioners, I learned that the body is particularly open to re-setting itself after a massage, so it was decided that I would come straight home after the massage and start the retreat then.  I had been thinking of doing a silent retreat, but I honestly thought I might go crazy with that much silence, and since I really wanted to fast from all social interaction more than anything else, I decided I would still allow myself to watch TV, but would abstain from facebook, email, phone, and speaking.  I also decided I would abstain from interaction of all kinds with people on the sidewalks or in my apartment complex while I was walking Olive.


Pre-Retreat- The night before the retreat was to begin, I created a tag to let people know I don't hate them, I'm just on a retreat and do not wish to interact with them.

Day one began with me checking all my electronic devices, and reminding everyone I'd be out of sight for a while (as if everyone was sitting around wondering about my existence).  Then I went to my massage.  Now, don't get jealous.  It wasn't a relaxing massage.  It was a therapeutic one, meaning the purpose of it was healing as opposed to relaxation.  I'm still dealing with Plantar Fasciitis, or more accurately, I should say heel pain, because my chiropractor doesn't think my heel pain had much to do with my Plantar Fascia at all, but rather tightness in my calves and hamstrings.  But, I digress.  My point is, this massage was healing, but not relaxing.  In fact, it was uncomfortable at times.  But, I'm hopeful more massages like it will help me to be able to run again someday.

Anyway, I left the massage, got in the car, and immediately turned off the radio.  Hmm.  That's nice.  Ok, here we go.  Retreat time!  No speaking.  Silent.  But it's still so loud all around me.  So many sights and sounds downtown.  Oh well.  Soon I'll be home in my cocoon, and all will be quiet.  Then, when I was nearly home, I took an impromptu turn to head to a labyrinth at a church.  I had never walked a labyrinth before, and had intended to do so the day before, but circumstances conspired against me and I wasn't able to do it.  In this moment, though, because I wasn't going home to my usual life, but to a life of silence and social interaction abstinence, I found that many new possibilities were open in my mind.  Why not go now?  So, I tried to find it using the directions a friend had given me, but there were 3 churches within the cross streets she had mentioned, and I kept getting out, looking for a labyrinth, feeling out of my element, and not finding what I was looking for.  I got frustrated, and normally I would have been cursing up a storm at this point, but because I was trying not to speak, I had to simmer down.  Not allowing myself to speak at that time actually made me calmer.  So, I found the church and saw the labyrinth.

It was obviously a sacred place; the energy was unmistakable.  I put my keys, shoes and sunglasses down outside the arbor at the labyrinth entrance.  The sun was shining, I felt the breeze on my face.  I took a few deep breaths, and entered.  Tears began to flow, slowly, and as I spoke to my God, the tears gave way to calm.  My breathing slowed, and I was able to see the beauty around me.  The earth felt moist and alive under my tired, aching feet.  Feelings of connectedness to the earth overwhelmed me, and I cried again.  Then the tears stopped.  I prayed for my friend whose mother was dying; and for another friend's grandparents.  I gave deep thanks for all that I have been given in this life.  I wondered, at times, how I would make it to the center of the labyrinth.  How was it all laid out?  Was it right?  Was there a mistake?  It seemed like I was too close to the center already... How does this thing work?  How could I be sure the path would be right?  I don't have to be sure.  He was there with me, and all I had to do was trust that the path was laid out before me, and all I had to do was walk.  One foot in front of the other.  It all sounds so cliche as I write it here, but it was truly my experience.

Eventually, I found myself at the center, where I was unable to do anything but drop to my knees in front of the cement bench and cry and pray and cry and cry and pray some more.  It was an emotional flood.  A welcome one.  After the flood, I turned to go back into the real world.  I don't remember what was so funny, but I do remember there were 2 times that I found myself laughing in the labyrinth.  Just enjoying my barefoot, earth-connection time; having a laugh with God.  It was beautiful.

When I arrived home, I greeted Olive silently, which was weird.  She didn't mind.  She was actually more calm than usual since I wasn't projecting all that energy toward her.  The grounding effects of this retreat were already happening, and made me want more...

I didn't keep a diary during this Social Interaction Fast, but here are some of the things that happened during the next 3 days:
-I restrained myself from telling Olive to stop barking when she barked at people going by the window.  At first it was hard and unnatural, but it became easier, and I was relieved to not have to try to control her.  And really, she didn't bark any longer when I was silent than she would have if I had corrected her.  I feel like this lesson can be used in my work, too.

-I noticed that my unthinking habit of reaching for the computer to check facebook happened at specific times: for example, once, it was when someone on TV mentioned someone they were very close to.  It was a microsecond, but since I didn't indulge, I noticed that it was a twinge of loneliness that drove that habit.  That character had someone they were close to.  I wanted to be assured I have someone I'm close to in my life too.

-And when I realized I didn't have to indulge in that habit, that I could just ignore it and keep doing whatever I had been doing before I had the urge, I felt a huge sense of relief.

-When I went online to create my Christmas cards, I found that I was able to do so in a relatively short amount of time.  I was clear-headed, and able to make quick decisions instead of staring for hours at the computer screen, wondering if I should choose this one or that one, if I should go back and start over again, if I should get someone else's opinion.... There was none of that.  Instead, I made decisions and moved on.  It made the creative process much more enjoyable.

-My TV shows were more enjoyable.  The TV rule was that I was only going to watch shows I really wanted to see, and not just have the TV on to pass the time.  When I wanted to watch TV, I really watched TV.  It was so nice to not be trying to play Words with Friends and watch TV at the same time, or be trying to check facebook and watch TV at the same time, only to have to go back and watch the scene I missed because I was so distracted.

-I cooked my Thanksgiving dinner with true thanks in my heart for all the blessings I have been given.  I baked my mom's orange upsie-daisies cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and was able to be present, remembering those tastes from all the times my mom made them with love for us.  And I enjoyed the process of cooking; creating something that didn't exist before.  I cooked, and cooked.  And cooked some more...
-I took a delightfully hot epsom salts bath, with decadent essential oil that I had specifically chosen for healing, not just physically, but healing emotional wounds, too.

-Walking the dog was strange.  It was peaceful, but also anxiety-provoking because even though I was wearing my handy-dandy tag, I found myself trying to avoid people so there would be no weird moments where they started talking to me because they couldn't see the tag.  Dog people are supremely friendly, so I found myself turning around and going the other way if I saw one coming towards us.



 -I decorated my Christmas tree, being thankful for my family as I unwrapped each special ornament my parents have given me over the years, and the ones I purchased for myself during a most difficult time.  I even found one that a student gave me my first year of teaching, that I had forgotten about.  And during the process of decorating, I was so much more present and focused on all these memories and feelings than I would have otherwise been without the retreat.

-By the third day I was definitely wanting to share things with people I love.  I wanted to tell them how things had gone.  How helpful the massage was.  How peaceful the labyrinth was.  How wonderful the silence had been.  How non-reactive I had become to Olive's barking and other noises.  And I was ready to talk to Olive.  I missed our interactions which were normally so boisterous.  We were still joyful with each other, but the satisfaction I get from vocalizing with her is more significant than I realized.




And now, with this retreat a success, I am emboldened, and planning to do a 2-day truly silent retreat for Spring Break.  And maybe a longer one in the summer.  It's definitely an experience I highly recommend to everyone, no matter your place on your own spiritual path.

May your holidays --whatever you celebrate-- be filled with Peace, Love, and Joy.  I know ours have been, and will continue to be for the coming months.

The Cure for the Crappy Romantic Comedy

I just watched a movie that made me want to be in love.  I should tell you that I hate romantic comedies.  Hate them.  They make me feel resentful of the characters; everything goes so easily for them, and it's all so absurdly unbelievable.  They make me feel angry that I haven't met a man worthy of my love.  But I just watched a movie that made me feel like love is the most beautiful thing in the world.  Like the world is full of love, and like it's all unfolding as it should.  The movie is Away We Go.

Her: What are we gonna do?
Him: How do you mean?
Her: No one's in love like us, right?  It's so weird.  What are we gonna do?
Him: [shrugs] I think we just gotta... ride it out.
[hug]

I laughed out loud more than once, and laughing out loud when I'm alone with Olive is kind of a rare thing.  And maybe it's PMS or something, but there were several times when I found myself in tears.  Like, full-on, get-the-tissues tears.  But it wasn't overly sentimental or sappy.  Overall, the movie was like taking a leisurely stroll with a friend you don't want to stop talking to.  Perhaps this was meant to echo the physical pace of the protagonist, who is 6 months into a pregnancy as she navigates the choppy waters of her life.  It definitely wasn't a fast-moving film, but it wasn't too slow either, and the pace allowed me to take in all the beautiful cinematography the crew worked hard to create, and the little micro-expressions that great actors so effortlessly craft.  There were so many of those little moments between people, the ones that make a movie feel like real life instead of a movie, so many great actors giving top quality performances, that I couldn't help but be sucked in.  The soundtrack struck a perfect chord, too, subtly standing behind and supporting the story.

This isn't the most exciting movie you'll ever see, but I wholeheartedly recommend it.  It's a love story.  But not a crappy one.  And these days, that's almost as hard to find as a good man.

Mascara? Do you know what time it is?!?!!?

A few things I've learned since Thursday night:

1) Altruism isn't the best reason to get an elderly lady some cornmeal.  The best reason may be the surprise baked goods you get as a thank-you.

2)  It only takes about 2 and a half hours to stuff 34 envelopes, if the envelopes contain ballots with recipients' names on them and additional pre-addressed, stamped envelopes inside.  Oh, and being on the Board of Directors for your HOA is a thankless job.

3)  It's a bit of a challenge to buy mascara at a non-$150-balsamic-vinegar grocery store after 8:30 p.m. on a Saturday.

4)  I still have the cutest dog ever.

*The above post was inspired by the events of my day, and today's post on this blog.

Never Underestimate the Power of the Sharpie

I'm forgetful.  Reeeaally forgetful.  So forgetful that I frequently go to the grocery store for just 2 things, and I come back with neither of them.  So forgetful that when my closest friend complains to me that her husband forgot the one thing he said he'd get for her when he went to the store, and it doesn't really seem possible to her that someone could do that unless it was on purpose, I have to break it to her that umm, well,... actually,...  in his defense, I can totally see how he'd do that.  I forget stuff like that all the time.  All.  The.  Time.  One example of said forgetfulness follows.  And after that, another possible example of a future forgetful episode, which you may be able to help me prevent.

The small local pet store where I buy Olive's food is closed on Sundays.  Yeah, and those Christians at Hobby Lobby too.  It sounds cute unless you live in the Bible Belt and have a crafting emergency.  Which, as a teacher, I must say, has happened to me more than once.  Then it's just annoying.

Anyway, last week, around the beginning of the week, I knew I needed to stop and get Olive some more food one day after work.  I hadn't finished parent conferences yet, so every day, I'd have a couple meetings after work, and by the time I got in the car, my blood sugar would be so low that I'd just be on auto-pilot with the singular mission of getting home to the Ikea loveseat as soon as possible.  Then suddently it was Friday and I thought to myself, "Self, do NOT forget to get her food after work today!"  Of course, you know it, I forgot.  So then my only mission in life became to not forget to buy her food on Saturday because I was going to use the last of it for Saturday dinner, and the last thing I wanted to do was pay twice as much for half as much food at the grocery store where they have bottles of balsamic vinegar that cost $150.  Of course, what happened?  Saturday found me laser-focused on doing laundry, dishes, and getting a couple things at Target, where of course, they do not have her food.  So I get home, I'm relaxing with my favorite trashy reality TV around 5pm, when it hits me.  Crap.  I forgot to get her food and the store is closed already for today, and on Sunday!  Annoying!  I did consider using some of my chicken breast and rice for her, but I decided against it.  So Sunday morning, I had to make a special trip to the $150-balsamic-vinegar store and buy a bag that is literally half as big as what I usually get, for much more than it would have been at the pet store, and much more per ounce than the big bag would be.  So, whatever.  No big deal, but as I mentioned.  This story was only meant to illustrate my extreme tendency toward forgetfulness.

So you can imagine how a felt about an hour ago when my elderly neighbor hobbled with her cane to my door and asked if I could do her a favor and pick her up a bag of cornmeal on my way home from work tomorrow.  She dropped a box on her foot, and it's swollen and she needs to stay off it, and do I ever pass any grocery stores on the way home from work?  She hands me $5 and asks me to get her cornmeal.  Of course!  I say, happy to be of service.  Should I go now? I ask, perfectly willing to be a hero.  OH, NO!  That's not necessary! she insists.  Ok.  Walking the fine line between being helpful vs. patronizing now... Well, I'll get some tomorrow and bring it by when I get home.  Is there any special grind, like fine or coarse, that I should look for?  I wonder.  I think the last time I bought cornmeal we may have had a white president...  Oh, no, just cornmeal, she says.  Ok.  I ask if she needs anything else.  Is she icing it, does she need any advil, because I have some, (the plantar fasciitis has me stocking up on that stuff!), etc. etc... and then she hobbles back home after assuring me she just needs cornmeal.  Tomorrow.  After I get done with work.

I close the door.  Of course it's no problem.  Except HOW ON EARTH WILL I REMEMBER CORNMEAL after work tomorrow??!

Of course, I'm open to other suggestions.

A Back to the Future Style FabuLetter

Dear Self from 3 Weeks Ago,

Hey, great job on the Bento Box project!  I can't believe you're still taking those things to work every day.  Good for you!  It's ok to take a frozen Freshcetta Pizza Slice to work today and leave the Bento Box at home (heads' up: that Vegetable Medley flavor is delish!).  And great idea on taking a clementine to go with it.  One suggestion, though?  Please don't put the clementine in your purse.  You don't know this now, but today you'll only have 15 minutes for lunch because your colleague will be late getting her kids to the lunch line again, and you won't have time to heat up a frozen pizza slice and peel and eat a clementine for lunch (I mean, who do you think you are?  One of those fancy Corporate Americans who gets more than 25 minutes for lunch?  Puh-leeze, Girl!), so of course you'll choose the pizza slice.  So then the clementine will still be in your purse after school when you walk in the condo and find Olive threatening to pee all over the carpet if you don't take her out right now, and when you have to dig around in your purse later to find your receipt for those extra caulking supplies you want to take back to Home Depot, the clementine'll fall to the bottom.  You'll never think about it again until the morning of October 8, when you're eating breakfast tacos with a friend and you're trying to find a clip for your hair and you're fishing around in the bottom of your purse for a clip or a rubber band or, dear god, anything to hold all this flying hair out of your face because you can never find anything in that giant purse and you really need to downsize to a smaller one, and you pull out that clementine that's now all black and orange and kinda looks like a really teeny tiny shriveled little halloween pumpkin waiting to be carved into a Jack-o-Lantern, and your urge will be to put it away and pretend it's not in there, but this is the kind of friend who would never judge you for something like this so instead you show her, you both laugh, and you think to yourself simultaneously, "Ewww.  I'm gross.  This is so embarrassing!" and, "Sweet!  Finally something to write about in the blog!"  Eewww.

So, seriously.  Take the clementine to school with you, but find another place for it to ride instead of in your purse ok?  Trust me.  Oh, and please put a couple extra hair thingies in there now, while you're thinking about it and when you don't need them.  You're welcome.

Sincerely,
The FabuLeslie of Today