It’s been like a billion years since I last did a quiz, and this one was fun. Either that, or I was really, really bored. It’s designed to look back on the past year and examine what you did and how you feel about the highlights of each season… I won’t be so cruel as to call on anybody to participate, but feel free to do so, and tag me back if you do!

Continue Reading 15 comments December 30th, 2005

As my husband prepares for his brown belt, I find myself thinking back to the days when we started martial arts training. My whole life I’d wondered what went on inside that odd little building, then finally I learned… The world renowned home of American Kenpo, it was the original Ed Parker studio.

Having a dojo with such an exalted reputation in our back yard was nice, and we were fortunate to train there in its final years. It was a shame to see a place with so much history fade away, but such is life. These days my husband studies elsewhere, and I no longer train in martial arts at all… In retrospect, it was never my cup of tea.

Strange how often you can’t predict how you’ll respond to a situation until you’re in it. Kenpo teaches your body to respond effectively, but nothing could have prepared me for how I was going to react to karate. As it turns out, it’s too painful to submit yourself to even a mock beating when you have far too many memories of the real thing.

15 comments November 21st, 2005

Worse, actually… I did something so convoluted that only I could come up with it. Somehow I decided I was too sexy for my dreams… They weren’t aspirational enough for me.

Admitting this for the first time just now doesn’t make me feel any better, either. More like I need to do something about it… Which sucks.

At one point, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my career, but I never shared the details with anybody. Least of all my family, who would completely freak out once they stopped laughing. After all, my father’s sole interest in me from day one involved making sure I would not remain a financial burdern to him.

So I judged myself and ruled that my desires were lacking… That this ambition was frivolous, and that pursuing it would be admitting to something my mother accused me of so often: Sitting on my brains. Psycho to English translation: I’ve been blessed with an extra measure of intelligence, and should therefore use it to its full potential.

Maybe they’re right, I thought. After all, I had to make a living and survive in this big, scary, adult world. Money doesn’t grow on trees, and fun jobs don’t pay much… Right? Where was Joseph Campbell when I needed him? Wonder where I’d be today if I had followed my bliss instead of those transplanted fears.

The good news is that I didn’t stray far. Although at one point I was an Accounting major (right on track for a future in alcoholism and suicide) eventually I couldn’t resist the allure of something better aligned with my natural aptitudes, and with some luck a career developed.

I’m a lot closer to my dreams than I deserve to be…
But it will take one more leap to get there — Yikes!

14 comments November 10th, 2005

In my recent quest to find some friends of the female variety, I’ve been thinking back to the days when I actually had some… Trying to discover and analyze common elements, hoping to glean useful insights that might help me today.

As a marketing girl, I understand well the concept of having a demographic… A segment of the population which finds your product particularly appealing. Looking back, I realize that my market was always rich girls. I can’t figure out why they frequently adopted me, but I never gave it much thought.

Continue Reading 6 comments November 6th, 2005

My little brother complained all day about how hungry he was. He was getting lethargic. I was starving, too. We were quite often hungry …but only randomly fed.

Mom had neglected to submit the paperwork for free meals at school, so lunches had become a thing of the past. What did she care? Somehow she always managed to be forty pounds overweight, while we stole fruit from neighbors trees on the walk to and from school.

Back home, the refrigerator held only inedible things like margarine, mustard, and ice cube trays. We never knew when mom would be home, or how angry she would get if we dared to bother her for a meal. Often it just wasn’t worth the risk.

Grandma lived only two blocks away, with a kitchen filled to overflowing with the most delicious foods you could ever imagine. But we knew better than to tell grandma and grandpa we were hungry and alone. That would just bring down more of mom’s wrath.

So I pulled down the collection of McCall’s cookbooks and spread them out on the kitchen floor, flung open the doors to the pantry and cupboards, and went to work. Pouring through recipe after recipe, trying to find something to match the few dry ingredients on hand. Imagining all those meals made my stomach growl.

Hope was finally found inside the volume devoted to cookies. How cheery cookies are! Sweet and warm. There was flour, we had sugar, and spices, too. Baking soda lasts forever. We had everything I needed to make the simplest tea cakes… We thought they tasted like heaven.

Sometimes I look at the skinny girls and I wonder how they can like looking thin more than feeling satisfied. How can they choose day after day to regiment themselves to being half empty? I see them with their cans of water packed tuna and salad greens and feel pity.

Anyone who was malnourished as a child knows about the promises you make. Like Scarlett O’Hara, you swear, “As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again!” And it’s a promise you keep so easily in this land of plenty, where there’s an eatery around every corner.

Now, every day of the week my brother and I have lunch together. It’s a blessing working together for a time. I have a feeling we’ll look back on this era later in life and cherish the time spent together even more. It’s been an important time of learning and growing.

These days, instead of worrying what, when, and if we’ll eat, we look forward to letting the other person choose a lunch destination. We take turns. Now the emphasis is on packing the fewest amount of calories into a most satisfying meal, because we’re both trying to cut back.

It’s funny how things only seem to change. We’re shaped by our experiences, especially those early ones. I still find it hard to resist a cookie… And I picked up a vintage set of McCall’s cookbooks on eBay.

18 comments October 19th, 2005