Monthly Archives: February 2010

A Case of Attempted Maturity at 30,000 Feet, Part 1

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eggtoBreakdreamstime_2815352Maybe I’m just too immature to fly.  The ticket agent in Austin telling me my flight was three hours late and I’d need some serious re-routing…she seemed to be of that opinion.  She kept saying, “Would you stop saying I’m ruining your day….I am not personally doing anything to you…Also, would you mind picking your forehead up off the counter, ma’am?”  What did she want from me?  I’d already stopped crying.

Dateline: American Flight 2486  Austin to Chicago.  Right now I am high above the clouds after an on-time departure at 1:15.  Sounds simple enough, right?  Well, not really.  Since I wasn’t planning on going to Chicago…Or, for that matter any further north than Dallas.   But I am not captain of my fate.

Instead of the trip I booked—Austin (Leave at 10:43a.m.) –Dallas (an hour later)-Columbia, South Carolina-Arrive Columbia at 2:00. 

My current routing is —Austin-Chicago (Yes, I actually lose ground)-Wait 4 hours, then Arrive Columbia at 10:00 tonight.  

Now I’m squeezed into a middle seat in the back by the toilet on American Flight 2486 to Chicago (instead of the exit leg-room seat I’d so carefully reserved in that little ole thirty minute leap to DFW) I am surrounded by a family of five adults and one child from one of those less hygienically obsessed nations.  Boarding of the plane was held up when this family attempted to board with ten freight-sized luggage carriers way beyond the size of carry-on.  In all, the six were coming aboard with thirteen bags thinking they’d discovered a loophole in Americans policy of charging for extra checked bags. Apparently, my seatmates were moving to Chicago and hoping to save on the moving van. …I don’t want to be rude…you of all people know how desperately I wish I wasn’t noticing any of this stuff.  But I want you to know what I’m working with here.  This is more than my usual what-no-almonds-only-peanuts flying trauma.

Knowing that these six people dressed in a manner uncommon among U.S. citizens…actually drug all these bags through security without a flicker…well, it’s scary, that’s all I’m saying.   Usually, security spots overage issues.  Once preparing to board flight from Kansas City to Tulsa to attend a wedding…I attempted to board with a computer, a book bag, and the dress for the wedding in a plastic laundry bag.  I was stopped and told—“Two carry-ons, one which must fit under your seat, ma’am,”…forcing me to….while in line… remove the dress from its hanger slide it up over my jeans…wiggle out of my jeans…then holding the dress up as best I could over my top half, pull my T-shirt over my head, catching the sleeves up and re-covering myself…all of this while walking and not holding up the line… as I stuffed my jeans and shirt into the book bag.

Oh well.  Refreshments….Sometimes the flight attendants start the beverage cart at the back, sometimes the front, even the middle once in a while for variety. Wanna take your best shot at where they’re starting beverage service on this flight?

Okay.  Instead of focusing on the unpleasantries of my situation, that is, instead of listening to my Emotional Guidance System… which is screaming: “This is ridiculous!  Overwhelming! This should not be happening!” …I am going to attempt a leap…a little hop…in functioning.  I am going to play around with a few sentences I have heard represent the internal dialogue of more mature persons.

Therefore I shall use this screen to practice saying to myself:

Okay, I can’t just leap into this.

I need to make a couple of things clear at this point.  The changes in my plans include: triple time in the air, nine and a half hour later arrival, almost six hours on layover, another night of vending machine food instead of a nice bounty from Hilton room service, crap television watching prison reality shows heavily dosed with infomercials instead of watching the University of Texas basketball game at 8 o’clock and AROUND WHICH I CAREFULLY SCHEDULED THIS WHOLE TRIP, stand-by seat assignments over preferred seating, who knows what kind of hotel room, since the only rooms left will, for sure, be dingy closets next to the clanking ice machine [Okay, I’m not totally sure this will happen. It’s possible I’m judging the future on my own history of switching rooms.]…And, since I will have passed up my usual go-to-sleep window by the time I’m settled in my shabby hole-in-the-wall with my stale peanuts and staring at violent prisoners throwing body fluids on staff…I will end up taking some Benadryl to drop off…which means waking up tomorrow with dry mouth and slight memory loss.

I just arrived in Chicago.  I asked the agent where I could find the gate for the next flight since it was another airline.  The flight attendant looked at me and asked, “Are you going to WALK the whole way?” 

“I guess,” I said.  “Is there a bus or train?” I asked.  The attendant said, “No.”        

To be continued when I can stop the shaking.  All did not go well.

What if You Were Being Paid to Live…by the Hour?

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sweeperdreamstime_5938908Living Now:  the Power Hose Incident Revisited

What would it take to get you to relax…Now?  What if…this is as good as it gets?

Dateline:  Second story veranda in Texas.  I am in my underwear power-hosing the doggie run…to be sure you have the full picture …see “How to Ruin a Relationship, the Power Hose Incident.”

In my right hand is the power hose.  In my left is a broom.  I am alternating hose spraying and broom pushing water off the edge and I soap and rinse the outdoor carpet.  I am doing my best to hurry, to get the job over.  This isn’t fun.  My arms ache.  Water keeps oozing back toward the wall.  I’m a bit peeved at the whole concept of spending a piece of my life hosing and sweeping…hosing and sweeping…hosing and sweeping.

Which is when a dangerous thought occurred to me….a thought which will change your life…if you ‘get’ it.  It’s a biggie…a toughie…but we can try this together.  In several sections.

What occurred to me was this question:  “Would I be ‘doing’ the job of hosing and sweeping differently if I were being paid for the job?”

Which led to the thought:  “How would my experience of hosing and sweeping be different if I were being paid by the HOUR to do the job?”   That is, I had to out on the veranda hosing and sweeping for a preset number of hours.  How would my internal experience be different if I wasn’t trying so hard to ‘get finished’?

I slowed down.  I stopped pushing the broom as hard and fast.  I danced in long, sweeping movements.  I slipped into a few stanzas of Delta Dawn….I noticed the beyond the balcony.  Corny, I know.  But, that’s what happened.  “Del-ta-uh Dawn…What’s that flower you have on?…”

Which is when I asked myself, “How would my life experience be different… if when my lifetime was assigned to me, God had looked at me and said, “You do realize you have been given an hourly job…that there’s nothing you need to finish?”

“People round Brownsville says she’s crazy…”

The Fashion Statement Diet, Lose Weight and Look Amazing

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highFashiondreamstime_10100274The Fashion Statement Diet

Lose Weight WITHOUT Changing What You Eat!

Emerging research suggests that the High Fashion Diet could be effective for weight loss (combined with a low calorie menu and exercise). Yes, you can lose weight simply by dressing with the appropriate amazing gadgets.  Or, How to Dress Like a Walking Emotional Guidance System… that is…as if you’ve said….I just give up…I’m never even going to try to think….ever.

Diet Plan:  There are a few purchases required here, but they’re each $19.99!… plus shipping and handling.  Oh, and lots of batteries.   Lots.

First, step into a pair of those Skechers Shape-up roller shoes (See previous Skechers post.).  These babies will take care of whipping your lower half into shape.

Second, strap one of those zapper belts that sends jolts into your abs so to make sure your amazing thigh and butt toning doesn’t get ahead of your tummy.

Certainly, you’ve bought two of those shaker tubes you hold in your hands…the ones that jiggle like crazy up and down and all you have to do is hang on baby… (I know, looks prit-tee pornographic to me….) Okay…put those down for now, you still need your hands.

Now, place the chin squasher torture instrument you bought off television that one time at three in the morning. You know, the one with a coil from a mattress that you place under your jaw.  Then you mash the spring down against your upper chest.  Ten minutes pushing that puppy down and you have a long slender neck and a few hard to explain bruises. 

Now, pick up those shaker tubes again.  You’re set…looking gadget fabulous. Roller shoes, zapper belt, chin squasher, and a tube wiggler in each hand.  Drive to Walmart, step out of your car, hit the on buttons on all your new-found miracle gadgets,  and walk around the perimeter in your new outfit.  This is the perfect weight loss program…unless you get arrested or run into someone from the office.

But Wait!  Just pay separate shipping and handling and you’ll receive the perfect accessory….one of those ball caps with a beer can and a flexible straw on either side.

How to Ruin Relationships, Part 2, Assume the Worst

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angrydreamstime_5517512If you’re not up to speed on the ‘Power Hose’ incident, review ‘How to Ruin a Relationship’, Part 1.

At the close of Part 1, I am standing in my underwear, soaked, and holding a power hose packing enough force to blow asphault off the interstate.  This is not the pretty picture you may be imagining.

Having completed washing the ‘doggie pad’, I now need my special person to do the ONE THING I have asked that he do in the process…I need him to go downstairs and turn off the water at the spigot.  That’s it.  All I ask.  I will do the scrubbing and rinsing (picture a bent woman, gasping for air, working so hard and going unappreciated)….The trip downstairs and what….a couple of twists of the spigot is ALL I ASK.   Twenty minutes earlier my special person had stuck his head out the French doors announcing he was going to run an errand….

At which point I sighed deeply…hoping to remind him of the burdens I bear…then I’d said something gentle, such as:  ”Fine.  Just leave me up here in my underwear to run back and forth …barefoot and soaking wet…through a tile-floored house, slamming into furniture, slipping and crashing into walls, breaking my neck going end-over-endo on the stairs….then sliding out the kitchen door the veranda, where, if I’m lucky I can watch the power hose explode instead of having my face blown off when it detonates in my hand.

….Something sweet like that…

He said:  “Oops.  Sorry, I forgot.”

I said something (on the inside) straight from the sickest part of my Emotional Guidance System ….Something like, “Perfect.  Just what I needed.  Another reminder of how important I am in your life.”

Back to what’s really happening.  I’ve finished the task.  I open the French doors and call for help with this  just one lee-tle bit of help I’m needing.  “Honey, I’m  ready for your to turn off the hose….Honey?….Honey, I need your help here!  Hey!  Need a little help here!  Help!”

Hmmmm….My special person does not seem to be home.  At this point, I could survey my circumstances and pay attention to the facts….my Thinking Guidance System…but this entry is about how TO RUIN a relationship. Consulting my Emotional Guidance System, these are the words tripping through my head:  It appears I have been forgotten…standing on the upstairs terrace with a power hose going full blast in my hand…. “OBVIOUSLY, in spite of the years showing me otherwise, my special person does not love me….In spite of years of evidence proving otherwise….in spite of what I would have said about him thirty minutes ago…I now realize he must get a kick out of torturing me.”

I recall our earlier interaction when he mentioned the errand during which I’d been a bit snippy. Using the ‘logic’ of my Emotional Guidance System….and ignoring all facts to the contrary…I conclude that he’s mad at me and his leaving is some kind of punishment.

I know.  Pathetic, but I’m hoping my brutal confession can help someone else….

And then….my tiny, struggling Thinking Guidance System managed to be heard over the noise….Pointing out that my ‘conclusions’ about my special person made NO SENSE given everything I knew about the man.  He is a kind person who goes out of his way often to make my life easier… and, I like to think he does so, not just because I can be really unpleasant when uncomfortable, but because he is a good person and he cares about me and takes our marriage seriously.  Those are the proven facts.

How can you ruin a relationship?  Always expect the worst of the other person.   Always jump to the worst possible conclusion.  Always assume he has no good reason for disappointing you.  Always assume he doesn’t care.  Always assume he doesn’t care if you’re uncomfortable.  Always assume he’s selfish.

And, after a while, your special person will start to wonder….”Why do I feel like a good person everywhere else in my life…everywhere except when I’m with you?”

When you find yourself in your undies on the second story verandah with a power hose in your hand.  Just maybe he didn’t leave you hanging on purpose. :  Practice words “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you had a good reason….I have confidence in you….You have good judgment….Everyone has a lapse now and then, I have plenty…”

And, if you learn that he did leave you hanging on purpose….Well, you still have the power hose.

 

I Feel, Therefore I’ll Take a Couple of Those Hollywood Cookies…

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thinkdreamstime_10546152Let’s say there’s a continuum of Emotional Maturity….a continuum where ‘0’ represents a person who employs her Emotional Guidance System at all times, in all situations….without any interference from her Thinking Guidance System whats-so-ever…

In other words, ‘0’ represents a person whose momentary feelings determine all decisions in her life….Let’s say…the Octamom.

And ‘100’ represents the person who confers with the Thinking Guidance System, a human who considers the long term results, when making decisions….Let’s say….Gandi.

Remember, feelings are not bad….feelings make life rich and deep.  But if you use transient feelings to decide long term issues for you….Your life will not turn out so well.  Which brings us back to our continuum. 

Where the ‘0’ end is headed up by the Octamom.  And the ‘100’ end, is represented by Gandi.

Notice, particularly, to what degree each person takes the welfare of others into account.  One person draws attention to herself by sacrificing eight (14 children in all)… The other person sacrifices himself to call attention to the plight of his people.

Now, if you’re still thinking, uh, FEELING, there’s a new miracle diet out there….You should know that the Octamom is coming out with a book on….Yep….on the special weight-loss secrets she employed to take off that extra baby (X8) weight.

Personally, I can do without her advice.  Just hand me a couple more of those Hollywood Cookie Diet goodies, would you please?