Ship's Blog

The new year is upon us and...OMIGOD! I'm writing in my blog! I'm actually posting something! Exactly how many months has it been?

Okay, let's not count.

I will be honest: 2009 was not a great year for me. I really struggled through many months of it because, well, post-traumatic stress disorder sucks. The nightmares, insomnia, anxiety attacks, and free-floating fear is draining. Getting control of the symptoms was very tricky and required a lot of experimentation over many months. It was hard for me to believe that anyone wanted to hear what was going on with me during that time and so I avoided my blog. Because even that made me anxious. And after a while, when I felt better enough to write, I found that I didn't know what to say.

Have you ever had that happened? For whatever reason, you fall out of touch with someone and you want to reconnect, only, you can't figure out how to start the conversation again. How do you explain how you weren't in touch? Maybe they are annoyed with you and don't want to hear from you. Is it naive to just want to pick up where you left off, or do you owe an apology?

We all know that the real way to reconnect is by starting the conversation on something, anything. But if you mull it over for too long, it becomes bigger and more complicated than it needs to be, and finally, it just apears impossibly hard. Which is silly, of course. I mean, in my case, it's just a my blog we're talking about. But it does feel like a relationship to me, and I do hate to let people down.

I missed you. Even those who never comment, you too.

So, let's dive into my topic: Project Happy Chi. Hear's the dealio: for 2010, Kathy and I have decided that we want to do whatever it takes to make our lives...happier. To generate happy energy. And so we have named this Project Happy Chi.

Sounds simplistic, huh? But really, I'm quite excited about it. There are so many angles we can approach this from, so we want to choose a whole bunch of them. After all, this is a theme, and I like that, because it gives us a lot of flexibility. Creating happy energy can include how we communicate, how our home is designed (feng shu and organization), what activities we choose to focus our free time upon, and even what we choose to eat. We want to evaluate our choices agains the question: does this improve on my happiness, or does it detract?

What's funny is that from years of writing poetry and creating art, I know that artistically, happiness is probably the most maligned emotion. Happy poems are often considered amateurish. Happy art is folksy or simplistic. Only happy song and dance seem to get a reprieve, though songs are still "pop" if they are happy and it's the heart-wreching dances that generate all the discussion. If you believe the critics, pain and anguish is much more interesting and sophisticated than happiness could ever be.

But...I don't want more pain or anguish. I have enough of it to work with, and while I often find insight within my past experiences and these insights drive my work, I'm not looking to invite more of it into my life. It's like the difference between the art I bind into books versus what I hang on my wall. I find it personally fullfilling and freeing to document my emotional journey visually, yet it's not what I want to look at every day. Why? Because that is where I have been. On a daily basis, I want to see, hear, and feel the cues that are about where I am going. What I am becoming. The transformational energy that brews inside me. Truth is, art that's full of pain is what gets talked about and exhibited, but people tend not to buy it for a reason. They don't want more pain!

We want to make this project more deliberate than hanging a happy painting on the wall, of course. But I think you get a sense of the spirit behind it. We are old enough to know that other people don't bring us happiness, there are many things we cannot control in life, and we cannot even change everything about ourselves. But we can do little things that lighten our journey through life. For the things we can control, let's deliberately focus on what brings delight, connection, and meaning.

I don't call this a resolution because, really, I hate to fail. I am more than a little Type A. This is why Project Happy Chi is a theme. It's a process where there is no failing. There is just re-orienting, asking ourselves again and again, "Is this the course we want to remain on?"

We'll have to see how this goes. In the meantime, I'm interested in finding out how you are choosing to make your life lighter and happier. What works for you? What are you ready to try now?

And I'm glad to be back. Remind me to tell you the latest IKEA story sometime. ;-)

Technorati Tags: Big Thoughts

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I was at a restaurant where the menu says you can order "a meatball as big as your head." Now, I gotta be honest, a meatball as big as my head is a pretty scary visual, even though I don't think I have an especially big head. I mean...that's a lot of meatball.

I was pretty sure the meatball was no where near as big as my head, but they didn't provide any qualifying statements to reassure me. Not like at that diner I went to where they advertised their Giant Cookie with a 2-foot painting of a chocolate chip cookie, and plastered "not actual size" across it.

With cookies, you don't want people to get their hopes up. With meatballs, though, it's okay to scare them a bit.

While I tried to imagine how big they justified making the meatball to support the head claim (would they say it was the size of my head if it was shrunken in preparation for tribal ritual? Or, maybe, if measured from across the room?) I was reminded of the Apple lawsuit from last year.

In that case, a man in San Diego sued Apple for false advertising on the iPhone 3G. Apple had said that the 3G was "twice as fast for half the price" as compared to the original iPhone. Apparently, the plaintiff had proof that was not so.

So, if he had proof, then what was Apple's defense? Why, they claimed: "Plaintiff's claims, and those of the purported class, are barred by the fact that the alleged deceptive statements were such that no reasonable person in Plaintiff's position could have reasonably relied on or misunderstood Apple's statements as claims of fact."

Which means, everyone knows you're an idiot if you believe what an advertiser says. So the meatball could safely be a half an inch across and it would be my fault for expecting the server's knees to buckle under the weight of the plate.

Hmm. I think they should just go ahead and advertise meatballs as big as the state of California. It all means whatever they want it to in the end!

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Recently, some spam got through my email spam filter. Two messages with the same subject line-"My SPERM volume tripled in 3 weeks..."-showed up in my inbox.

Thing is, the "from" names were listed as Elsie Grant and Danielle P Irwin.

I don't know about you, but that is a little too butch for me. Elsie and Danielle, you go, girls, but, uh, how 'bout you don't tell me about it?

Of course, I am also reminded that 3 x 0 = 0.

* * *

This weekend, I drove past a Kragen's Auto Parts store that had an ambulance parked in front of it. First thought: "Omigod, did somebody blow a gasket?"

* * *

As my Facebook friends know (yeah, yeah, it's not all evil), the other day, while contentedly painting away, I was started by the gentle crash of five or six tiaras falling off my art desk, onto the floor. Thank goodness, all rhinestones are intact. But I need to find a new place to put them. Suggestions are welcome. One of my friends, Pam, suggested I get a display cabinet and put them in a pile in there, because I like them in a pile. I'm just not sure I have the wall space for it. Hmmmm.

* * *

I showed a friend some of my recent paintings and she said, "You are such a girly-girl!"

What? Me? A girly-girl?!? Maybe I need to assemble some furniture for you or move something really heavy. The nerve.

That evening, I told Kathy that she said that and Kathy said, "You want me to call her and tell her not to call you that? Because I know better than to say that!" I shared the comment with someone else the next day and she said, "But you are very girly!"

Gasp! I started to sputter about how I don't ever wear dresses and all my shoes are sneakers and I never wear perfume and, and, and...um...see previous item.

I'm shutting up now.

Technorati Tags: I Crack Myself Up

Facebook. LinkedIn. Twitter. Classmates.com. MySpace. Social networking is taking over and, frankly, some of us are not ready for it.

At least, I'm not sure I'm ready for it.

On face value, it seems like social networking on the Web is a fabulous idea. What a great way to stay connected to people, find those you've lost touch with, and strengthen bonds. You hear such wonderful stories about best friends from elementary school reconnecting and old lovers romantically encountering each other decades after they first fell in love. And I'm sure you know those people who find running a search on Facebook to be fun and exciting. Who will they find today?

I have friends like this-people for whom social networking is a welcome enhancement to their lives. I genuinely admire them, because for me, social networking not always like that. Sure, it can be enjoyable at times, but other times? It's stressful and nerve-wracking. Getting a new friend invitation can make me stop breathing momentarily, as I wonder, is this a "friend friend" or somebody I don't want to talk to?

You don't have to be a social recluse to have issues with online networking. It's often less than appealing if:

• You have good reason to avoid one or more persons from your past, particular the kind who never qualified for a restraining order, per se, but who has threatened your safety on some level,

• You survived an awful childhood or violent relationship and really don't want to be connected with anyone who reminds you of that time,

• Merciless teasing throughout your school years means that a request of, "hey, remember me from 6^th grade?" would be less than welcome,

• Some life circumstance has forced you to be isolated for some or all of your life, and seeing 150+ friends in the networks of your three co-workers just rubs your face in the fact that you don't have many friends,

• You underwent some kind of radical life change (like coming out or changing religion), choosing to lead a more authentic life that is great for you - but would make connecting with people from your past very awkward,

• You have social anxiety disorder,

• You're in the witness protection program, or

• You just really, really, like to be private. Really.

While I can't claim to fall into the last few categories (my first website went up in 1995 - I've never been hard to find online) I can say that yeah, it's possible I qualify for several of the others. And it's important to note that while it is easy to locate me online, when it comes to my own email inbox, nothing prompts me to reply to a message from someone whom I don't want to connect with.  

But on social networking sites, it's different. First, something about how these sites work make it much easier to idly search for old contacts and click the "add as friend" link. There's more thought and effort that goes into finding someone's website, looking up their email address, and sending them a proper message. Second, as the recipient of a friend request through a service, you are usually asked to accept, decline, or ignore their invitation (depending on the site). If you have any sensitivity, it can be pretty hard to decline a friend request, especially when there is no link for, "no thank you, it's not you, it's just complicated."

Obviously, you could just not sign up, and if you are very private, that's your best bet. But if you don't want to avoid the movement entirely-you just don't want it to trigger any past social trauma-here's what I recommend:

• Be thoughtful about the networks you sign up for. If childhood is full of bad memories, don't sign up for networks like Classmates.com where you are inviting contact with people who will remind you of a painful time.

• Check the privacy settings for each social networking site and set them according to your comfort level. For example, on Facebook, maybe you only want friends to see your feeds and no one else. Or, on Twitter, maybe you want your feed to be private, by invitation only. Don't accept the default settings without knowing what they mean.

• Only share what you want to share. Post things that wouldn't be disastrous if they leaked out to other sources. Just because you make something private doesn't mean it will always stay hidden from your employer or your next-door neighbor.

• Come to terms with ignoring or declining invitations. Go for quality of network instead of quantity.

• Find the people who make connection fun and worthwhile, people with whom you feel safe. Nurture those connections.

• Frequently take part in offline-world get-togethers with friends and colleagues to remind yourself that online networking is not the "be all and end all" of things. Often it's the smile shared across a table that makes your week - not a :-) tagged on at the end of an instant message.

I know I'm not the only one who approaches social networking with a little trepidation. If you find this brazen new world challenging at times, too, leave me a comment and share your tips (or funny stories!). I'm sure lots of readers want to hear what you have to say!

Technorati Tags: Big Thoughts

Kathy is out of town on a business trip at the moment, which means:

• I'm doing all sorts of crazy projects around the house and moving things, determined, as always, to reenact an episode of "While You Were Out"
• I'm experiencing constant lower back pain because of the above activities and yet I'm also forgetting to take pain reliever (because my entourage is not here)
• I am getting so caught up on paperwork that I have mentally filed anything that is going to come into the house for the next two weeks
• Our recycle bin is full to bursting and we're not even near pickup day
• I have no idea what is happening in the world of politics because it's just not the same watching Rachel Maddow without Kathy...and so I don't

The last one is interesting because for quite a long time, I never knew what was happening in politics no matter where Kathy was. Sure, I had the many years of waking up to KCBS radio and hearing their version of the news. And then there were the years of listening to NPR for long commutes and finding out so much more about the world than I was led to believe there was to know.

But after a while, it became too depressing. My dreams were filled with gun-fighting in trenches and failed peace negotiations, with planes crashing into the ocean and me never able to save everyone I was supposed to save. So I took a break for eight years, listened to more music, and retreated into my core 5-year old self-the one who believes that everything really should be about being nice and respectful of others. The one who responded to the latest statements of the Bush administration with, "But...but...that's not very nice at all! Why would they be so mean? I don't understand!"

Oh, don't get me wrong; I did not avoid my civic duty. I voted. I smacked the little "I voted" sticker they gave me on my shirt every voting day, proudly announcing my commitment to my community. (Actually, though, I was really hoping it would get me a free slice of pie somewhere. Which it no longer does, because now that's considered "buying votes." Not "The American Way" like it used to be. Which is so silly - who is going to vote if there is no chance at free pie? But I digress.) I gave more money than I had to give to the No on Prop 8 campaign. I watched the debates-or part of them. I cared. I just couldn't tell you who was arguing what on Capitol Hill or what was going on in Gaza or who was considered the hero of the day.

And then along came Rachel Maddow. No, that's not right, first it was Keith Olbermann. No, wait, I better be truthful: my interest in politics is all the fault of Ben Affleck. Yeah, him!

Let me explain. While I hadn't been a fan of Saturday Night Live for many years, I was watching it last fall just so I could see Tina Fey appear as Sarah Palin. Hey, that was worth a slot on my DVR. One night, just before Election Day, Ben Affleck guest hosted. Now, while I admit I thought Ben was the best part of Shakespeare in Love, in general he makes the kind of movies I don't want to watch. That I really don't want to watch. But, watching that episode of SNL, I realized he's pretty smart (as well as funny) and so I kept watching.

Then he did something that would change my world: he did a long parody of MSNBC's Countdown with Keith Olbermann. Embarrassingly enough, I'd never heard of Countdown and I didn't know who Keith Olbermann was. But that sketch was hysterical. I could tell that whoever he was impersonating, that had to be a spot-on portrayal, because it was just so nuanced. And as I dissolved into laughter, I wondered, what kind of spastic freak is this Keith Olbermann guy - does he really do a World's Worst Person of the Day? That can't be right!

A week or so later, I stumbled upon Keith's show on MSNBC and, wow, I had no idea that news commentary could be like that. He managed to be as spastic as Ben portrayed and yet not at all insane. He engaged me. He cracked me up. And then, at the top of the hour, he handed over to Rachel Maddow.

Rachel. Maddow.

Smart. Funny. Dorky. And, in my opinion, someone with the secret heart of a five-year old, who also seems to think that everyone should just plain play nice. And says so. Only, she says so in much more educated fashion than I could manage (given that my brain stops at "that's mean!"), perhaps showing how she got to be a Rhodes Scholar. Maybe most endearingly, she has confessed to highlighting some stories just so she can say the cool or weird words involved. What's not to love? Hit the series record button on the DVR already!

I just didn't know how this would change my life until, a few weeks back, Kathy made a remark and I casually responded with, "I'm pretty sure the labor secretary hasn't been confirmed yet." I instantly clamped one hand over my mouth and looked at her in horror. Did I really just say that? That was on the level of realizing I can identify baseball players from the SF Giants - a shocking turn of events! What's next, arguing our position in the Middle East without wanting to break into tears of helplessness? Should I back away now?

But, after months of watching, I'll admit it only takes a couple of days to start missing Rachel. That someone could make me feel simultaneously educated about current political machinations, horrified at world events, and hopeful about our future is a pretty clever feat. That a fellow liberal would introduce me to Republicans who don't suck (Megan McCain) is astonishing. Cool even.

So, thanks, Ben.

And Kathy? Hurry back. I'm starting to forget the name of the Minority Speaker of the House.

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Persistently looking for work in a dismal economy like this takes incredible internal fortitude. I think it's comparable to the same internal fortitude that allows some people to eat weird crap on Fear Factor. Especially when you are searching within a field that has been stripped bare of opportunities through outsourcing, it can be deeply demoralizing. That's why I've really admired how Kathy has kept doggedly pursuing possibilities over the months since she has been laid off. (For those who don't know, she worked in technology for a bank that was seized by the Feds. It's a longer story than that, but aren't they all?)

As she dealt with the ups and downs of the job search, I have to admit that I felt more and more helpless. It is my way to help people accomplish things. That's why I had a coaching business, after all. I want to make everyone's path a little easier. But what could I do?

Then, a few weeks ago, I brightly suggested that I would help her get a job by improving our household chi. Yep, I'd feng shui her into a job! Okay, I knew I was grasping at straws, but feng shui was something I understood. The current job market? Not so much.

So, we worked on our career center, adding a mirror, a fountain, wind chimes...removing clutter...adding personality. You get the idea. We were only a day or two into this project when I was contacted about a job. As someone who has been self-employed for years, it's been a long time since someone has contacted me about a job, even a contract one. I had to laugh - clearly, we needed to address the intention part of the feng shui. We're looking for a job for Kathy, for KATHY!

We worked on some other things, then went back to the Project Happy Chi. We removed a rug from the career center that kept bunching up under the furniture. I demonstrated - by sliding in my socks like a 7-year old - how the chi now screamed into the house with abandon. We put some things up to encourage the energy to curve around and stay inside, instead of racing out the back door. We laughed a lot about it, even though I couldn't stop doing the sock slide in the entry hall, with delight.

She applied for a job that week. They immediately brought her in for interviews. In fact, they interviewed her four days in a row and by the next week, she found out she had the job. And not just any job, but the most fitting opportunity she had seen in almost six months.

Unemployment in our area just climbed to a rate of over 10%. Did good feng shui really help Kathy land the perfect job? I don't know. She was just as great a candidate in October as she was in March. But whatever made it happen now instead of later, we are both incredibly grateful. Lots of people need jobs and we wish everyone of them success. These are hard times, indeed.

Meanwhile, I'm moving on to fixing the feng shui in the rest of the house, that's for sure. Because, you know, just in case...it doesn't hurt to at least believe the energy is good.

Not to mention the fact that I never get enough of sliding around in my socks. Wee!

Technorati Tags: I Crack Myself Up

While doing not-yet-visible web development work in the background, I've been struggling lately over... what on earth am I going to write in my blog? Does anyone actually want to read my mental meanderings? Isn't blogging terribly self indulgent?

It's the kind of thinking that doesn't get anywhere because, for the most part, blogs are self-indulgent. Of course they are! It didn't matter to me before-I still love the blogs of others that I have time to follow. Yet the latest surge in Twittering and Facebook updating makes me wonder, what really makes something interesting? Do I need to know some of what's being shared? Is it going to make my life any richer? Because, from what I can see, a few people could use a filter on their output. Or is that just me that can use the filter?

I'm so glad I'm not the type of person to think myself into tight spirals.

Tomorrow, there will be little time for blogging as I will be visiting UCSF for my re-check. (Maybe I've finally found a use for Twitter - there's always good in-the-moment material when you're visiting a cancer center.) Re-check day is pretty much my least favorite kind of day, because I keep thinking... can't these people let the cancer thing GO already? Would they please stop obsessing? I tend to think of it as the time in my life when I learned to shave my head and collected wig anecdotes to share with others. Why do these medical types have to turn it into such a downer? Sheesh.

Yesterday I was talking to someone who has known me a very long time. She said it's funny that most the time, she forgets I ever had cancer. She doesn't think of me as a survivor. She knows I went through it - she saw me regularly when I was sporting pink or lilac hair - but that's not what I'm about. And it's true that, even though I easily share stories from that time, I don't connect with it being about the heavy topic of cancer. Just, "Wasn't that really weird and wrong?"

But when re-check time rolls around, I resent that I'm forced to think about it and consider everything that is going on in my body. I'm asked to obsess and worry, almost. Any bump on my body or skin change becomes something I should ask about, which desperately I hope the professionals will dismiss. And at the same time, I know I must be my own advocate and that professional dismissal does not always mean everything is okay. Again with the tight spirals of thinking! It totally works against my naturally, carefree nature. (Ha!)

So, let me shake off my preoccupation with how boring it may be when I share the latest thing that cracked me up each day, and I'll get going again. Even if I'm just talking to myself now.

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There are some products where...well...I just don't know what to say about them.

Here's my "favorite" of the moment: Bumpits

Leaving the awful name out of the discussion, is the concept of "bumping up your hair" really considered a good one? What year is it, anyway? Did I fall into the Wayback Machine by mistake? Is this an episode of Doctor Who?

Thank you, Bumpits creator Kelly, for wishing me a "happie" hair day. (I take it that "happy" hair was already trademarked.) But, honestly, I don't think there is any part of my body, least of all my hair, that needs a perfect bump. And please don't invite me to "bump a pony." I can't help but feel offended by that, kind of like how I feel when I accidentally surf past Cinemax "after dark." Mon dieu.

Yeah, that's me not knowing what to say about it. Okay, I'll shut up now. 

Technorati Tags: Good Booty, Bad Booty

Recently, I was at the bakery in a grocery store, buying...well, okay, I was buying custard éclairs. For a special occasion. I'll figure out what that special occasion was later.

Anyway, the young woman working at the bakery was rhapsodizing with me about how wonderful these custard éclairs are, when a young boy (maybe six years old) interrupted us. Leaning conversationally against the front of my cart, he asked, "Do you like mushrooms?"

I made a face as I responded with an emphatic, "No, they're gross!"

The woman behind the counter nodded. "They are gross!"

The little boy frowned. "But they have to be eaten. They are vegetables."

Not wanting to address the issue of fungi vs. vegetables, I simply answered, "Well, then, I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

A perplexed frown knit across his eyebrows as he looked at me. Then, for a split second, he shifted his eyes to focus on some distant point, as if recalibrating his experience. He straightened up, turned around, and walked away, no doubt wondering how he managed to mistake us for grown ups.

I wanted to say, don't worry, kid, it happens with me a lot. Must be because I am so tall.

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Here, in the San Francisco Bay Area, we have had a really cool drug store called Elephant Pharm. It is was like a hip, healthy Walgreens, all bright and shiny. Along with a compounding pharmacy that handled traditional Western medicine, they had an herbal pharmacy and lots of vitamins and supplements. Yoga and other health-oriented classes were in the back. In the front were all sorts of neat items like yoga mats with beautiful designs, eco friendly tote bags, every skin-friendly beauty product you can imagine, and someone to do chair massages.

I came to Elephant Pharm late in the game (maybe six months ago) but I was excited to find them. Whole Foods is expensive and the attitude of other shoppers can be just too much for me. But Elephant Pharm was bright, warm, and friendly. Since I was having a huge hassle with my current pharmacy over an insurance technicality, where they just weren't making the right call to get something approved, I needed a new pharmacy. So, I walked to the back, passing by all the healthy, vibrant, good-for-you products, and I asked pharmacist, "Do you do toxic Western medicines, too? Because I need some of those." He said yes, no problem.

The amazing part was that after I gave him my info, the pharmacist called me at home to let me know that it would be a day before the prescription was transferred as my old pharmacy was closed. THEN he called me the next day to tell me it was ready. That used to be how everyone did it, but in recent years (at least, in this area) no one seems to want to make simple phone calls, no matter how necessary. When I went through cancer treatment and there was a problem with a prescription for a medication that I needed immediately for chemo, the pharmacy technician at my long-time, tried-and-true drugstore snapped, "We don't have time to call doctors about prescriptions. We're too busy!" She almost blew my wig off. I couldn't transfer my prescriptions fast enough.

So, you can imagine why I was so delighted with John the Elephant Pharmacist and why I was crushed to find out that Elephant Pharm unexpectedly closed their doors yesterday. The economic downturn was too much for them and they are filing for bankruptcy. Their website says they are sorry and that for prescriptions, call your doctor.

Sigh.

The weird thing is that while I don't go to Elephant Pharm all the time, I was just in there the day before. I had bought some supplements and once I got them home, I realized they were not quite the ones I needed. After a couple of weeks of looking at the sealed boxes, I realized I could probably take them back. For the past week I was moving the bag between our two cars and trying to get to the store. (that car fiasco translated to five trips to the mechanic, because we kept swapping cars as they did more work.) On Monday, after dropping off Kathy's car again, I was adamant: let's go today. When the cashier at the drugstore asked me how I wanted to be reimbursed for my return, I asked for cash - which I almost never ask for. While we were there, we looked around and found the most lovely, unique wind chime for our front door and I used part of the money for that.

If I'd waited one more day, I'd be trying to figure out what the heck I'm going to do with supplements I'm never going to take. And I'd be hanging something far less beautiful by my door. As it is, now I'll be worrying about all those great people who are out of a job.

Thanks, Elephant Pharmacy people, for all your good service. You made me smile!

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