Tag Archives: passion

05

Nov. ’13

Writing

“I must write it all out, at any cost.  Writing is thinking.  It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living.”
-Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Ok, I better stick to this thankful list kick while I’m still in the mood.

This blog is dedicated to writing.

Oh my gosh, am I thankful for writing.  Not only my own, but others’ as well.  I can’t even begin to explain what therapy exists for me in picking up a book to read or picking up a pen to write.  writingblogOh, who am I kidding – no one uses pens anymore.  Maybe I should say grabbing a keyboard and hearing the clicks.  Yeah, that sounds a bit more truthful.  Some of my earliest memories involved hiding out in my room and writing.  Either in a journal, or in a trapper keeper (remember those! Gosh, I’m old…) where I would stash all my poetry.  Unfortunately in all my many moves growing up as an Army brat, that Trapper Keeper got misplaced.  It’s crazy to think of all the hundreds of 12-year-old girl poems that are floating around out there somewhere.  I’m sure they were masterful works of art, mind you.  I mean, New Kids on the Block was a pretty deep subject, ya know.  Duh!

And not only would I retreat to my room to write, but I would also read.  I couldn’t read enough.  You would never see me without a book in my hand (and I’m proud to say, that hasn’t changed much).  Escaping my world and delving into someone else’s was better than any therapy that money could buy.  My therapy would cost me about $5 a session (if it was a paperback, a little more for a hard cover).  Hey, and the session was totally free if I rented my therapist from the local library.  And what brilliant, effective therapy it was.  And still is.

My now-famous friend Zoe (from my previous blogs) sent me a quote one day that made her think of me.  It goes like this:

“Writers are like other people, except for at least one important difference. Other people have daily thoughts and feelings, notice this sky or that smell, but they don’t do much about it. All those thoughts, feelings, sensations, and opinions pass through them like the air they breathe. Not writers. Writers react.”
– Ralph Fletcher

That is it exactly.  I always felt like I was a little weird.  A little different than others because of the fact that I felt things so deeply.  Nothing was insignificant in my life – everything had some kind of deeper meaning.  And eventually, as I grew older, I finally figured out what to do about that.  Put it on paper.  I think that’s what writing is all about.  Those feelings and emotions that well up inside of you need somewhere to go.  It happens to all of us, and we all find ways to deal with it.  Some with writing.  Some with exercise.  Some with music.  Some with art.  Theatre.  Dance.  The list goes on and on.  And then, sadly, there are those who haven’t found a way to express all that is inside of them.  So they suppress instead of express.  Drugs.  Alcohol.  Promiscuity.  Etc.

Oh, I don’t know – maybe I’m full of crap.  But I kinda don’t think so.  I think we all have the same feelings and emotions inside of us at any given time.  What differentiates us from each other, is what we decide to do with them.

time concept, selective focus point, special toned photo f/xSo, will my writing matter someday?  Oh, I don’t know.  I’d like to think so.  So far, this year alone, I have managed to win a writing contest (what I said must have mattered to some judge somewhere); get published in a Chicken Soup for the Soul book (a book that is intended to out to millions of readers with positive messages about how to live life to the fullest); and have a small quote published in Guideposts magazine (again, a “pick-me-up” type of publication).  This first year of going public with my writing has given me a pretty good boost.  Maybe it’s beginners’ luck, or maybe it’s the start to something big.  Who knows?  Either way, I know that writing saves me.  I don’t mean that in some drama queen “I’d die without it” kind of way.  I mean it just like I said.  It saves me.  It saves my sanity.  It saves me from feeling like I’m all alone (thanks to you readers who continue to comment telling me how much something I’ve said makes you think of you or your current situation).  And most importantly, it saves me from holding all of these jumbled thoughts and words inside of me.  Thank God I’ve found a way to get it all out there.

So, thank you, Writing.  You are on my thankful list.  Thank you for the gift you’ve given to me, and to others, to somehow change the world.  Even if that world may just be our own.

***

“Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don’t feel I should be doing something else.”
– Gloria Steinem

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04

Nov. ’13

Bus Driver

Ok, I lied.

Remember Friday when I said I was going to do the daily “what I’m thankful for” thing during the month of November?  Well.  I guess that’s not happening.

Here we are – November 4th – and I have written a grand total of….ONE blog.  Crap.

It’s not that I’m not thankful for things.  I am.  It’s just that I don’t like forcing myself to write.  Telling myself to write every day makes it feel like a chore.  And for me, writing cannot turn into a chore.  It’s one of my only escapes from life’s many other chores as it is.  And besides, I’ve been grumpy as crap over the past few days, so forcing myself to write about what I’m thankful for during my current mindset would have been about as productive as the time I tried to give my cat a bath.

catbath

Get my drift?

So, I skipped a few days.  And I’m probably going to be skipping a few more if I’m going to just be quite honest with you.  I’m just a tad too much of a cynic to come up with a cutesy thankful blog every single day, anyway.  Again, it’s not that I’m not thankful for things.  I just don’t feel like being forced to vomit sunshine and roses every day for a month.  Because some days just aren’t conducive to that kind of…um…’product.’

But, even with that being said, I do, however, want to give a shout out to someone I noticed over the weekend.

My daughter’s school drama club had their annual drama competition on Saturday.  It was in another town – about a two-hour drive – and the team was being transported by bus.  Since they had performed their skit the night before at the school for parents, none of the parents were going along on the Saturday trip.  Except me – the one parent who works in a separate state which kept her from getting to the Friday night performance on time.  So, with the coach’s advance permission, I rode along on the bus with the kids.

Now, believe me when I tell you that there was not a dull moment on that bus ride.  I like to think I’m a pretty young and hip momma, but shew!  I was exhausted before we even got to the competition.  They were great kids, don’t get me wrong.  I don’t mean there was any trouble or anything like that – it was just loud.  LOUD.  And there was so much energy.  Where do they get that from??  I sure do wish I could’ve siphoned some of it into a bottle to take with me to my half marathon in a few days.  Good grief!bus

Well, we got to the competition, and they all performed their little hearts out.  But, sadly, when the results were tallied, not only did they not win, but they actually came in last place. 😦  Talk about a bunch of sad kiddos.  That energy that I mentioned before?  Yeah, it had turned down quite a few notches by the time they all piled back on the bus for the trip home.  While they truly did have a great attitude about the whole thing, the disappointment was evident in all of their faces and body language.  They just couldn’t hide it.

So, we start the much quieter trip home, and someone (in hopes of lifting everyone’s spirits) gets the idea to ask the bus driver if they could play one of their CDs on his stereo system on the bus.  From my safe little seat near the front of the bus (my, how things have changed from when I was a teen myself…), I could see what I expected to be a stern “No, now sit back down and let me drive” from the bus driver.  But, to my surprise, he not only allowed it, but asked them if they wanted him to crank it.  Ha!  What a pointless question – this was a bus full of teenagers.  So, crank it, he did.  Now, we all know the healing power of music, and this was no exception.  As the decibel rose, so did those kids’ spirits.  Before long, there was laughter, singing, and even some “dancing” (at least I think that’s what you call that these days…).  Just like that, the teens’ disappointment was all but forgotten and the bus trip returned to its original state from earlier in the day.  A bus full of happy kids with nothing to worry about except hoping their parents were there at the school to pick them up upon their return.

So, we got back safe and sound (well, maybe our ears were a little worse for wear, but other than that…).  As we were all piling off the bus, myself lagging near the end, I stopped and put my hand on the bus driver’s shoulder and said, “you have the most patience of anyone I’ve ever known.”  His response?  “Nah.  I didn’t mind at all.  They only get to be young once.”

Wow.  Did you hear that?

“They only get to be young once.”

What a guy.  What a philosophy.  What a reminder.

Because of this one man’s positive attitude and flexibility, a potentially depressing bus ride home for a bunch of devastated teenagers turned into the happy, fun-filled trip that it should have been all along.  I wonder if he realizes that?  I wonder if this man knows how contagious his one little attitude ended up being for a busload of kids…and one somewhat grumpy momma?

I hope so.

So, even though I have failed miserably at doing my daily duty of documenting the things I’m thankful for each day, I would still like to add Mr. Bus Driver to the list anyway.  I am thankful for people like him.  People who think of the wellbeing of others before himself.  People who sacrifice a full day of their time to transport a bunch of kids to some event hours away, and then sacrifices his own comfort to be sure they had the best time they possibly could’ve had.  I’d like to think I’d have been the same way if I were him, but I honestly don’t know. I probably would have been tired.  And grumpy.  And ready to go home.  And not willing to listen to the laughter and loud music while I drove all that way after spending an entire day with teenagers.  But see, that’s why I’m not a bus driver.  And that’s why he is.

So, welcome to my small thankful list, bus driver dude.  You made an impact on more people than you probably realized, including myself.  Thank you for being in the right place at the right time.

This blog’s for you.

***

“Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.”
– Winston Churchill

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31

Oct. ’13

Compliments

compliments

“Like most girls, Emily can’t take a compliment.  Around here, if you don’t show outward signs of hating yourself by the 5th grade, everyone calls you conceited.”
– Brian Strause, from the novel Maybe a Miracle

Ok, so am I the only chick on the planet that absolutely can NOT take a compliment?

I saw the above quote in a novel I was reading a while back and it was like a spotlight shown around the sentence with big flashing neon arrows pointing to it saying, “This! This! This!”  One little seemingly innocent sentence tucked away in the middle of a paragraph hidden deep inside a novel seemed to be the answer to this conundrum that had plagued me all my life.  Maybe that’s why I can’t take a compliment?  Maybe it’s just that it has been ingrained in me from an early age not to because I might appear conceited?

Hmmm.  Something to think about.

Are you like me?  Do you get all weird when someone says you look nice?  Do you “pssssssh” it away like I do?  I’d be willing to bet you do.  Well, let me tell ya a story.

This past weekend, I ran a 10K race early Saturday morning.  And, if you don’t mind my saying so, I did pretty darn awesome. mebrrr (Heh…no worries about sounding conceited about that one, huh?)  I didn’t get any medals or place in the coveted top 3 of any of the categories, mind you (in fact, I was dead last in my age group if I’m going to be honest), but ask me if I care?  Go on, ask me.  What’s that?  Do I care?  NOPE!  Because you know why?  The only person I was there to beat was myself.  And not only did I beat myself (not now, secret 12-year-old-boy alter-ego-self, this is not the time to make your childish jokes…let me finish my story…), but I blew my old record away.  I generally run at an 11-12 minute pace (yes, I know, I’m slow), but my average pace for this race was 10:10, with the first 3 miles all being in the 9 minute range.  Dude, I was booking it!  And you know what?  I was pretty darn proud of myself.

So, fast forward a little later in the day.

My boyfriend’s kids were in a play at the local theatre, so I had rushed home after the race, showered, straightened my hair (that’s what I consider “getting dressed up”), and hit the road again to go watch the two back-to-back performances.  Now, as most of you know from my previous blogs, the theatre is my home away from home.  I know so many people there, and most of their kids were going to be in this production.  So, walking into this little mini-reunion, I started running into people I hadn’t seen in a while – at least not since our last production a few months ago. And, in those past few months, I have been training my hind end off this upcoming half marathon next weekend.

I was immediately greeted with compliments.

“Wow, that running is look great on you!”  “You look fantastic!”  “Oh, Melissa, you’re just glowing!”  “Look how toned you’ve gotten.”

It was like a compliment smorgasbord.

And, oddly enough, instead of blushing in embarrassment like I normally would, I just graciously accepted their compliments.  I genuinely thanked them (no ‘psssssssh’es allowed) and let the compliments do their intended job – make me feel good.  Later, I thought about that, and wondered why I didn’t have my normal response.  Why was I able to accept compliments this time with such ease and gratitude?  Before long, it finally dawned on me.

I accepted their compliments….because I believed them.

That was the difference.  running2I have been working hard for the past few months.  I have felt my pants getting a little loose and saw the number on the scale dropping slightly.  Although those things are not at all the purpose for my running, they have been a nice bonus.  And, this particular day, I had put forth a little effort on my hair and makeup, and was probably still riding on the high from my race accomplishment earlier in the day, which probably showed on my face.  I was feeling pretty darn good about myself that day and accepted those compliments with open arms.

Boy, wouldn’t it be nice if every day was like that?

Hey, I have an idea.

Let’s make sure they are.

Let’s all make a silent little promise to ourselves to try to make every single day a day in which you are proud of yourself.  Let’s make every day a day that you believe the compliments that are tossed your way.  Seriously.  Let’s do it, people.  It may not be all that easy at first, but with practice, it may start eventually coming natural to you.  Just like my running.  I didn’t start out with the ability to crank out a 10-minute pace 10K.  It took lots of time and effort and, most importantly, belief in myself.  That’s all we need, right?

Easy peasy.

So, get out there in this big ol’ world and strut your stuff today, why don’t ya?  I mean, you’re looking all good and whatnot, so you might as well, right?  Come on, beautiful people.  We’ve got some work to do!

***

“For once, you believed in yourself. you believed you were beautiful and so did the rest of the world.”  
– Sarah Dessen, Keeping the Moon

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23

Oct. ’13

Journey to Mayberry

“As an athlete, when you least expect it, you may find yourself standing on the threshold of an accomplishment so monumental that it strikes fear into your soul. You must stand ready, at any moment, to face the unknown. You must be ready to walk boldly thru the wall of uncertainty.”
– John Bingham

It’s time to talk about running again.

So, as you may remember, I’m currently in the middle of training for my second half marathon on November 9.  And, training with me, is my training partner from afar, Zoe in Australia.  (Read that Cool Story here.)  As a quick recap, Zoe and I met online through this very blog and have decided to train together for her first and my second half marathon.  Mine is an “official” race (the Mayberry Half Marathon – a small race in Mount Airy, North Carolina), and she will be running on her own there in Australia.

Well, let’s do a quick update, shall we?

We are officially 17 days pre-race.  Yikes.  SEVENTEEN DAYS.  That seems so soon….

I have spoken with the race director and he has pulled some strings and worked it out to get me a bib to send to Zoe so that she will have an official number to wear as she races (and she better wear it too – you hear that, woman??) 🙂  Here’s a picture of it before it is shipped off to Australia to its rightful owner:

bib

Goodbye, little bib.  Enjoy your journey halfway across the world.

Once I have completed my half marathon (which I will do – and hopefully with a time of less than 2:30), I will be awarded two medals.  One for myself, and one for Zoe.  I’ll ship her medal, together with her t-shirt, of course (hey, we all know we only do this junk for the t-shirts…) to her in Australia as well.  Eeek!  Sounds exciting, right?

Well, it is.  But it’s also scary.

This little “project” of mine has put a lot of pressure on both of us to succeed.  And let me tell you – this process has not been an easy one.  She and I both have been through quite a bit getting to this point.  At the beginning, we had our training plan all laid out…4 runs a week with gradual increases in pace and distance…we were ready to ROCK this thing.  Stick to the plan…no variances.  Go team!

Yeah, well.  That hasn’t happened.

We’re both thirtysomething-year-old moms.  While it’s easier on me having teenage children; her, not so much.  She has small children that she has to arrange to have cared for so that she can squeeze in her training runs.  And on top of all of that, she has battled the head cold from hell…TWICE.  I, too, had said head cold once myself.  (Hmmm…wonder if you can catch a head cold from 9,000+ miles away?  Ahhhem…excuse me…15,000+ kilometers away.  Google’s “miles to kilometers” function is my new best friend these days…)  And, on top of that, I got an acting gig that I hadn’t been expecting to get during training (read that blog here if you missed it), which took a little chunk out of my training…  Oh heck.  I could list a million things here, but I’ll give it a rest.  The point is this…

Life has happened.

It just has.  And it’s always going to.  There have been times that even if we were able to squeeze in our runs, we weren’t able to go as fast or as far as we had planned.  Mental ability is just as important as physical ability…and some days it just hasn’t been there.  For either of us.

But you know what?  We’re still here.

We both still have our training plans in front of us every day.  We both still check in with each other, and build each other up when we’re feeling down.  We give gentle pushes when needed, and give the little e-hugs when a push just isn’t going to cut it.  We have understood each other’s frustrations and virtually held each other’s hands, not only through the not-so-great runs, but also through the reasons that have accompanied the not-so-great runs.  In other words, we have become friends.

And that’s pretty awesome.

So…seventeen days from now, I certainly hope to report back here and tell you that my friend and I have finished the Mayberry Half Marathon.  Together.  And, if the sickness prevails with Zoe and she’s not able to complete it on November 9 as planned, then I’ll come back here and tell you on November 10.  Or November 11.  Or however long it takes for it to happen.  Because it will happen.  (And I’ll be holding her medal and t-shirt hostage until it does!  Yep.  Holding the coveted T-SHIRT hostage.  That’s runners’ blasphemy right there, but you do what you have to do…)

The point is this.  She’ll be ready.  Sometime in the near future, my friend Zoe will have completed her very first half marathon.  And she won’t have a giant group of people to run with and to cheer her on.  She’ll be doing it entirely on her own.  Her own course, her own pace, her own journey.  And that, blog-readers, is some serious bad-assery if I’ve ever seen it.

So, thus ends my “Cool Story” recap.  Tune back in here in a few weeks for another update.  And until then, whether you are a runner who is training for your next race distance goal, or just a human being training to get through whatever struggle you’re currently facing, remember these words:

runblog1

Keep moving forward, friends.  We’re all in this race together.

***

“It’s important to know that at the end of the day it’s not the medals you remember. What you remember is the process — what you learn about yourself by challenging yourself, the experiences you share with other people, the honesty the training demands — those are things nobody can take away from you whether you finish twelfth or you’re an Olympic Champion.”
-Silken Laumann, Canadian Olympian

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18

Oct. ’13

Being Ignored

ignored2

(Poor wittle ducky…)

I don’t know about you, but I can TOTALLY relate with that duck.  Been there, done that, did not, however, buy the t-shirt.   (I mean, seriously, who wants a souvenir from that crap?)

You feel me?

Well, check out this fascinating excerpt from an article about ostracism that I happened to stumble across:

“Being excluded or ostracized is an invisible form of bullying that doesn’t leave bruises, and therefore we often underestimate its impact….Being excluded by high school friends, office colleagues, or even spouses or family members can be excruciating…When a person is ostracized, the brain’s dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, which registers physical pain, also feels this social injury.”
– Kipling D. Williams, a professor of psychological sciences

Well, how about that.  Being left out or excluded or…the word I absolutely despise…IGNORED, can actually cause physical damage.  It makes your ‘dorsal anterior blah-blah-blah’ hurt.  Seriously – it makes you feel like you are experiencing pain.  Real, legit pain.  And further in the article is another observation by Dr. Williams that I think is an even more interesting tidbit.  After a study of 5,000 participants, it was noted that:

“The effect [of ostracism] is consistent even though individuals’ personalities vary.”

Well, there ya go.

If you’re like me, being ignored can make you feel like you are a Class A bona fide crazy person.  You probably feel like there is something wrong with you – that you’re weak or needy or clingy – and that must be why it’s bothering you so much.  Well, guess what?  You’re not.  No matter what kind of person you are – whether you are tough as nails or cry at infomercials – your brain is still going to have the exact same physical reaction to having someone turn their back on you as the next guy.  You’re not a freak.  You’re HUMAN.

So, stop feeling so bad about yourself.

And hey – if you’re reading this and you’ve never experienced this?  Then maybe you need to ask yourself if you’re the giver of this kind of the treatment rather than the recipient.  And check this out.  I’ve got news for you, too.

It works both ways.

“[To] exclude another person leads most people to feel shame and guilt, along with a diminished sense of autonomy, explains Nicole Legate, lead author of the Psychological Science paper and a doctoral candidate at the University of Rochester. The results also showed that inflicting social pain makes people feel less connected to others. “We are social animals at heart,” says Legate. “We typically are empathetic and avoid harming others unless we feel threatened.”
– From Science Daily (Read full article here.)

So, let’s cut all the scientific mumbo jumbo down into layman’s terms, shall we?

Stop that shit.  It hurts.

There.  Seems pretty darn simple, doesn’t it?

Seriously.  Stop it.  No one wins.  Don’t you see that?  Analyze why you’re doing what you’re doing and find another way.  Is it a family problem that you’re avoiding facing because of the discomfort?  Well, stop it.  Find out what it is that makes you uncomfortable and tell them so.  Start there and see where it goes.  Is it a friend that you don’t want to be friends with anymore so you just ignore them rather than telling them so?  Well, stop it.  You’re hurting both yourself and them even worse by just ignoring them.  If the friendship isn’t working, say so.  Is it a relationship you don’t want to be in anymore?  Same idea.  Stop it.  The pain inflicted by ignoring someone far exceeds the pain from knowing the truth.  Do you both a favor and stop playing games.  Life is just too short for that junk.

Stop it.

And hey – is it maybe that it’s just a little time and space that you’re needing to sort things out?  Well, here’s a wild and crazy thought.  SAY SO.

(I know, right?  I’m a psychological genius.)

Nothing is more painful than feeling like you’re unimportant and forgotten.  No, I don’t have an article to post or a resource to quote to back up that statement.  It’s just a Melissa-ism.  And it’s 100% accurate.   Why am I so sure about that?  Because I say so.  That’s why.  (See above psychological genius reference.)

Good grief, people.  This life is hard.  It’s so tough to figure out how to interact with all of these fellow human beings that float around us at any given time.  We’re such a beautiful, assorted, mixed array of personalities that it’s amazing that we are able to co-exist at all.  But we do.  And we can.  And we sure can make it a lot easier to do if we just learn who we are, what we want, and stop the passive aggressive B.S.  As John Meyer puts it, “Say what you need to say.”  Do it.  Just say it.  If they don’t understand, then fine.  That’s their problem.  But do your part and don’t be a bully.

Is that really so much to ask?

And back to you receivers.  If you find yourself feeling like the little ducky in the picture, just allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling.  Don’t make yourself feel worse by trying to stifle it or by telling yourself you’re weak or that you need to be tougher or stronger.  You’re going through pain.  And pain hurts.  It’s ok.  It’s life.  There’s nothing wrong with you.  You’re just a human being.  Just like me.  Just like everyone else around you.  And, most importantly, just like the person who is ignoring you.  (The big ole jerkface….)

*Sigh*

Hang in there, my friends.

If we could all just do our part to get along with each other, this world sure would be a nicer place, don’t ya think?

Hey, a girl can dream…

***

“Our prime purpose in this life is to help other.  And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” 
-Dalai Lama

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13

Oct. ’13

Roles

“Actors do tend to get pigeonholed.  People want to know who you are so they can put you in a box.  It’s lovely to be known for such diametrically opposite roles.”
– Tom Hiddleston

I was just sitting here reflecting over last weekend at Oz (read that blog here if you missed it) and something dawned on me.

This has been a year of some awesome roles for me.  (And quite diverse ones, at that!)

I’ve been an actor for a long time, and it just occurred to me that most of my very favorite roles and on-stage moments have happened in 2013. This has been quite a year!

Here are a few examples:

Started the year off as Elvis.  Yep, you read that right.  Elvis.

Ok, so I was a country hick trailer park chick dressed up as Elvis for the “Elvis and Jesus: A Tribute to the Kings” nativity scene.  In July.  In Florida.  (Did ya get all that?)  Oh yeah, you have to check this play out if you’ve never heard of it.  Radio T.B.S.  It’s a hoot.  And, incidentally, this was the first time I’ve ever received an ovation mid-show.  My Heartbreak Hotel was apparently awesome.  Or….hilariously bad.  Eh, either way, they clapped.  Booyah.

Next?

“Mother” in the show Life With Father.

Pretty awesome role.  Even got to do a TV interview for it.  (Read that blog here if you’re interested.)  Yep, very cool stuff.

Then, I got to play a flooz.

You just can’t beat that.  (Gloria Rasputin in Bye, Bye, Birdie.)  Even had to tap dance and do a split.  Well.  Sort of…

And then last weekend, as my regular readers know, I got to be both the Wicked Witch and Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, at the Autumn at Oz festival in Beech Mountain, North Carolina.

Yep.  As you can see, this has been a year that I have stepped “out of the box” somewhat.  I have been blessed with these varied roles and have enjoyed every minute of becoming someone completely different each and every time I’ve donned a new costume.   And, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve actually enjoyed watching myself blossom as an actress as I’ve stepped into these roles.  I wasn’t so sure I had it in me, but apparently I do.  I’ve been kinda proud of myself.  How about that?

Pretty cool stuff.

But you know what’s even cooler?  Knowing that at the end of the day, after the costumes are neatly put away and silence drowns out the applause, I get to step into a few even better roles.

This one, for example:

“Of all the roles I’ve played, none has been as fulfilling as being a mother.” 
– Annette Funicello

I get to be these awesome teenagers’ mom.  How freakin’ cool is that?  Just like all of the other roles I’ve been blessed with, this is another one that I wasn’t sure I would know how to play.  And sometimes I still falter, sometimes I don’t always follow the script or get my lines right, but all-in-all I think I’ve managed to do a pretty darn good job.  I sure have some awesome little co-stars, that’s for sure.

All it takes is to turn on the radio or the TV and within minutes you are hearing some new horror story about the awful things teenagers are into these days.  Each time this happens, I say a silent little prayer and thank my lucky stars that I have the kids I have.  Now, I’m not saying they’re perfect – far from it – but the problems that we have are just normal, everyday problems.  Nothing drastic and severe like some poor parents have to go through.  I hope my kids know how proud I am of who they are, and who they are becoming.  And I hope the role I’ve played in their lives has had a little something to do with that.  I like to think it does.

Another role I’m pretty blessed with?

Being the one this guy loves.

“If you age with somebody, you go through so many roles – you’re lovers, friends, enemies, colleagues, strangers; you’re brother and sister. That’s what intimacy is, if you’re with your soul mate.” 
– Cate Blanchett

My gosh, I sure do love this dude.  We have been through many phases in our relationship – and I think that’s why the above quote speaks to me so much.  We’ve been all of those to each other at some point, and we just keep going strong.

When it comes to love, I’ve tried out quite a few roles.  I tried being the submissive wife.  I’ve tried being the girlfriend who gives up everything she really loves to try to keep the peace.  I’ve tried sacrificing who I am to make someone else happy.  None of these roles seemed to fit.

And now I know why.

“I’ve had disappointments and heartbreaks and setbacks and roles I didn’t get, but something always came along that either made me better or was an even better role.” 
– Lee Majors

Finally, I get to play the best role I’ve ever played.

Myself.

It has taken me a long, long time to finally get to enjoy this role.  Took some trial and error, I admit.  But finally, finally, I think I’ve figured out this role pretty well.  And it sure is nice to be allowed to play it.

I think I’m right where I belong.

This is the role I’ve been waiting for.

Are you playing the role you’re meant to play?  Make sure you are.  Life is just too short for anything else.  Trust me.

***

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”  
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

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03

Oct. ’13

Off to See the Wizard

good-bad

“Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”
– Glinda, the Good Witch of the North

Well.  I guess my answer is, “both.”

A few weeks ago, I was asked to play Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, for the Autumn at Oz festival in Beech Mountain, North Carolina, coming up this weekend, October 5-6.  And then, a few days later, I was asked if I could also double as the Wicked Witch for a few shifts.

Um.  Ok?

At first, I had no clue what any of this meant.  I mean, yeah, I had heard about this festival way up on top of the mountain near where I work.  But I really had no idea what all the hoopla was about.  Now, I was pretty sure that I could pull off the split personality required to be able to switch between good and evil (heck, I do that all the time in my daily life…easy peasy…), but what did all of this really mean?  This isn’t your typical ‘play’ that I’m used to performing in.  No weeks and weeks of rehearsals, no constant run-throughs, not even a stage.  What was this festival all about?  I didn’t have a clue.

Well, now I do.

In my two-week crash course in learning about the festival, I have come to find out that this is actually kind of a big deal.  Back in the festival’s heyday (early 1970s), this thing was evidently a sight to behold.  The land of Oz has been recreated high atop a mountain in Beech Mountain, North Carolina, complete with a yellow brick road, Dorothy’s house (pre- and post-tornado), the Emerald City, and everything in between.  There were even ‘balloon rides’ like Dorothy takes at the end of the movie (which, for this ski-resort area was a modified ski lift).  Unfortunately, the combination of the owner’s death just prior to the park’s grand opening, and a mysterious fire only five years later, worked together to shut the park down in 1980.   (Click here to read an article that I’m not too crazy about, but that does give some back story.)  In 1993, the park re-opened, on a much smaller scale, and is now open to the public only one weekend a year with the name, “Autumn at Oz.”

oz6

And boy, is it popular!

This year, 6,000 tickets have been sold.  SIX THOUSAND TICKETS!  And they are completely sold out.  Apparently this is something you want to get tickets for well in advance.  (Click here to ‘like’ Autumn at Oz on Facebook and stay up-to-date with the information for next year if you’re interested in taking your own little stroll down the yellow brick road!)

oz2

As for my part in it – well, this is how it works.

On Friday, I get to leave work early (woot! woot!) and travel up to Beech Mountain.  A few of us will have a photo shoot for promotional purposes (upcoming brochures and whatnot).  For this, I’m Glinda.  (Yay! Somebody has to make me all purty and whatnot.)  Then, we all get settled into our condo for the weekend.  Saturday and Sunday, I will be the wicked witch working in 2 hours on/1 hour off shifts.  There are three of us (shhhh….don’t tell the kiddos that….) that alternate shifts as the wicked witch.  There are two places along the yellow brick road where the witch is situated – her ‘lair’ and the poppy field – so two of us are working at all times, with one getting an hour break.

Now, this is the part that scares me.

As an actress, improv has never really been my ‘thing’.  Give me a script, and I can be whoever you want me to be.  But tell me to do stuff on my own, and I freeze.  Well, guess what Saturday and Sunday is?  Improv.  Lots and lots and lots of it.  For two hours at a time, I have to “be” the wicked witch.  No script, no lines, no blocking.  Just be the witch.  Now, everyone who knows me well will probably say that shouldn’t be a problem for me.  I mean, come on.  Helllo?  It’s Melissa.  Mean Ol’ Witch?  Duhhhh.  Perfect casting.  But nonetheless, here I am.  Terrified.  What if I mess up?   What if I’m not scary enough?  What if I’m too scary?  What if a kid kicks me?  (Hey – it has happened in the past, so I hear.)

Well, I guess I just have to put my big-girl witchy britches on and just wait and see.

So, as of Sunday night, the public festival is over.  But not for us.  A full cast of characters (just one each this time) will remain behind and do two performances on Monday for a few school groups that will be coming through in two waves.

Now we’re talking.

This is when I’m Glinda.  And this is when I have a script.  Woohoo!  A script!  The kids will come through the park, stopping at the places along the yellow brick road that Dorothy stops at in the movie and the scenes will be reenacted for them.  How cool is that!?  After a few groups come through and our two performances are complete, there will be one more on-site photo shoot, and then it’s time to click our heels and head home.

Holy crap, I’m excited! 🙂

oz4

Check back here for a complete update when I get back.  Can’t wait to post pics of myself in all this garb (oh yeah, selfies shall abound…) and experience something like I’ve never experienced before.  New friends, new experiences, new memories….this is the stuff life is made of.

It’s time to head to Oz!

ozme

***

“What a world, what a world!”
– Wicked Witch of the West

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26

Sep. ’13

Fix Your Face

face

“She was not one for emptying her face of expression. ”
– J. D. Salinger

I have a pretty bad habit.

My face shows everything I’m feeling.  Everything.

And you know what else it does?  It shows everything everyone else is feeling too.

My daughter Kelly has often made fun of me for this.  We’ll be watching a movie and I’ll catch her looking at me instead of the screen.  When I turn to see what she’s looking at, she breaks out in hysterical giggles and says, “You’re doing it again.”  Apparently, whatever the person I’m watching is feeling, I display it on my face.  They’re laughing?  I’m smiling.  They’re crying?  My face is all scrunched up.  They’re singing?  (Oh, Kelly loooooves this one….) My forehead is creased and I’m straining to reach the high notes just like they are.

Well, that last example happened at church Sunday.  The choir was singing one of the most beautiful songs ever, and I was feeling it to the core of my being.  My face was singing right along with them, when I feel a little elbow go into my side and I hear,

“Mom.  Fix  your face.”

Fix my face??  What the…. [wait, I’m in church]…crap is she talking about…?

Oh.  Oh yeah.  That again.  Grrrr.

Ever since she said that, I’ve been thinking a lot about it.  While, no, I don’t want to look like an idiot, and yes, maybe I do need to work on ‘fixing my face’ sometimes to avoid just that – the deeper meaning behind why I do that maybe isn’t such a bad thing at all.

See this quote?

“All that is in the heart is written on the face.”
– Ritu Ghatourey

Well, I believe that.  And I think that the fact that my face reflects what others are feeling is a pretty good sign.  I think that shows that I’m empathetic.  That I don’t just look around at my fellow members of humanity, I actually take the time to really see them.  I feel them.  I put myself right in their place and go right along with them on their journey, even if it’s just for a few seconds.

That’s kinda cool, right?

Even if I do look like a complete idiot in the process.

There are a lot of things that we teach our kids when we don’t even realize we’re doing it.  I’m sure I have some habits that I’d like for Kelly to overlook (which I’m sure are the ones that she’ll remember best, unfortunately), but this in particular is one of them that I’m not too sorry to pass along to her.  Feel for each other.  You know?  Feel your fellow man’s pain, his happiness, his struggle, his triumph.  Anything that happens to another member of humanity, is also happening to you.  We’re all in this thing together.  Recognize that.

Wouldn’t this world be a much better place if we all did that?  All the time?

Well, it would also be a much funnier place if everyone showed that on their face all the time like I do.  Kelly sure would get a kick out of it.  So, maybe you could just be that way and try to hide it a little better than I do.  That might be a better idea.

So, note to self:  Yes, listen to your daughter.  Fix your face.  But your heart?  Yeah, that heart is probably right where it needs to be.

No worries.

***

When you start to develop your powers of empathy and imagination, the whole world opens up to you.
– Susan Sarandon

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20

Sep. ’13

Liebster Award

“You cannot hope to sweep someone else away by the force of your writing until it has been done to you.”
– Stephen King

So, I got a notification earlier this week that I had been nominated for the Liebster Award.  Woohoo!  The Liebster Award!  Awesome!

Ok, um, the what?  I have no idea what that is.

Having my German heritage that I do (ok, I just lived there for three years as a military brat.  But still…), I recognized the word “liebster.”  I always thought it meant ‘loved one’ or ‘beloved’ or something like that.  So, I did a little research, and it turns out that I was right.  The Liebster Award is given by fellow bloggers to up and coming blogs in order to call them out and recognize them for their merit.  In other words, to show them that their blog is a ‘loved one.’  And get them a little recognition in the process.

How cool is that?

Dave Cenker is the awesome person who nominated me.  (If you’d like to read the post where I was nominated and where he so eloquently describes the Liebster Award process, click here.)  Dave, thank you so much for this. And I’ll be honest with you – when I first did the research and realized what was involved, I didn’t think I wanted to participate.  Being in the ‘blah’ mood that I’ve been in lately, I didn’t feel like putting forth the effort involved in accepting this award.  I know that sounds awful, but I just haven’t been myself lately.  I didn’t feel ready to “pay it forward” because I wasn’t even sure that I deserved it myself.  And besides all that, I wasn’t really ready to answer all those personal questions about myself.  (As you will see, part of accepting the award involves answering the questions that the presenter poses to you.)  So, at first, I had the idea to just silently thank Dave for the sweet gesture, but sweep it under the rug and hope it was soon forgotten about.

Well, that didn’t last long.

As my mood started to improve, so did my attitude.  As I started thinking about the award (and realizing what a true honor it really is to be recognized by a fellow blogger – especially one whose work I so highly respect), I started thinking about who I would nominate as well.  And in the process, I went and checked out their blogs again and realized how little I have appreciated the works of my fellow bloggers.  I am honored and humbled to be among such talented writers in the blog world and am proud to pass their blogs along to my readers.  Check them out when you get a chance.  You won’t be disappointed.   I hope they know how grateful I am to be considered a part of them.

So, without further adieu, the following is my list of nominees.  (The “rules” vary on this award and I’ve seen differing figures regarding how many blogs to nominate.  I’m going with five.  Once you’ve been nominated, should you choose to accept the nomination, the requirements are to 1) Link back to the author who nominated you; 2) Answer the questions presented by the author who nominated you; 3) Nominate five other authors for the award (or whatever number you choose); and 4) Ask ten questions of those you nominate.  Clear as mud?)

liebster award

Blog Nominees

1. Rampant and Golden – This is a wonderful blog full of beautiful poetry that never fails to inspire me.

2. Victorious Val – My fellow “Chicken Soup for the Soul” contributor who blogs about her victory over breast cancer.

3. Jenna Reinvented – A wonderful blog that I stumbled across full of wit and humor that never ceases to amuse me.

4. Beth Runs in RI – One of my favorite running bloggers whose unique “sign offs” on each blog always give me a chuckle.

5. Perpetual Ramblings – I love her “confession Thursdays” and creative use of “lists” to convey her subject matter.  Very intriguing.

(** And an honorable mention goes to Jill Haymaker.  Jill just had her work published for the second time in Chicken Soup for the Soul.  I’m always proud to find fellow Chicken Soup contributor blogs!)

Questions

And now for my answers to Dave’s ten questions.

1. If you could choose one mode of preferred transportation, what would it be?  Easy.  Boat.  If I could get everywhere I had to go in a boat, I’d be a happy woman.

2. You have the opportunity to lead any corporation, organization, or charity. Which one would you choose and why?  Oooh.  That’s hard.  I’m not sure I’m the “leader” type, but if I had to choose, I think I would like to be involved with the Muscular Dystrophy association.  My children’s father has Becker Muscular Dystrophy and my daughter is a carrier of the disease.  It would make my heart happy to see a cure found before it’s time for my daughter to start having children of her own.

3. You have a $20 bill in your pocket. What do you do with it?  Hmmm.  If I didn’t have to worry about anything ‘practical,’ I’d probably go buy some frozen yogurt and a book.

4. You may live your childhood during any era since the dawn of human civilization. Which one would you choose?  I’m pretty happy with the era I was born in.  Things are a little too crazy now, and I’m not crazy about the stereotypes that went along with the woman’s role in the home prior to my era.  So, I’m fine right where I am.

5. What is the most played piece of music on your digital player of choice?  Well, I listen to music when I’m running, so I’d say the most played song on my list is “Survivor” by Destiny’s Child.  There’s just something about that song that gets me moving.  When I’m not running, I always turn to the Matchbox 20 Pandora station.

6. You are able to ask one question about anything and know that you will get a truthful answer. What question do you ask? I would ask what people think of me.  And in most cases, I’d probably be sorry I asked that.  But I deeply believe in open honesty and would really like to know what I’m doing right and wrong.  Some things maybe could not be changed, but some things could.  And I’d like to know what they are.

7. If you could invoke any one law that society is required to follow, what would it be?  No bullying.  Period.  Just be nice to one another and accept each other exactly the way we are.  Differences are beautiful.

8. What is the one thing that you do each and every day that has the biggest impact on the quality of your life? I can’t say that I do this “each and every day,” but I would say writing has a huge impact on my life.  I express myself in ways that I might not otherwise do, and that release is extremely important for someone with my personality.  I can’t hold things in.  Ever.

9. What book are you reading now, or are planning on reading next?  I just finished Bel Canto by Ann Patchett (LOVED it!), and am currently reading Kill Alex Cross by James Patterson.  Next up: The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh at the suggestion of my dear book buddy, Connie.  I always have at least one book going at any given time – sometimes two.  Even three on occasion.

10. What inspirational quote best defines you?  Wow, what a hard one!  I ADORE quotes, as can be seen by my blogs.  Hardly any of my writings are not centered around the words of a quote.  But if I had to choose, I suppose I’d say it’s the Ralph Waldo Emerson quote about success.  It is what I strive for, even when I don’t consciously realize I’m doing it.  It’s why we’re here.

“Success: to laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

My Questions to the Nominees

And here’s my ten questions for any of my nominees that choose to accept their award:

1.  How old were you when you first realized that you were a writer?

2.  If you had to choose one person in your life who was your biggest inspiration – good or bad – who would that person be?

3.  What do you consider your biggest vice?

4.  Your biggest virtue?

5.  What do you consider your biggest passion (non-human passion, that is.  If you’re a parent, the standard answer is your children, I get it.  But I mean, what is your biggest passion)?

6.  What’s your favorite quote?  And why?

7.  What’s your favorite book?  And why?

8.  What’s your fondest childhood memory?

9.  Have you ever been published?  Do you want to be?

10.  How often do you write?  Do you wish you had time to write more, or do you feel like you spend too much time writing as it is?

Thanks for ‘playing’!  And thank you all for the inspiration you continue to provide through your words.  Keep writing – never stop.  It’s a gift that you were blessed with.  Even when you feel like no one is listening, they are.  I promise.  And your words will resonate in ways you can hardly imagine.

***

“I must write it all out, at any cost.  Writing is thinking, it is more than living, for it is being conscious of living.”
– Anne Morrow Lindbergh

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03

Sep. ’13

Um, what?

umwhat

Relationships.

Shewwww.  I could sit here and blog for days about that topic and you and I both would still be just as confused as we were before I ever started rambling.  And the same goes for any other blogger or self-help book author or psychologist or preacher…or WHOEVER.  You know why?  Because NO ONE understands this mess.  No one.

Oh, you may think you do.  You may be floating along in your relationship bliss thinking you have it allll figured out, silently looking down your snooty little “look at me, I’m in an awesome relationship” nose at all the peons below you who can’t seem to figure it out, when suddenly…Bam!  Something comes out of left field and knocks you right back flat on your not-so-know-it-all a… um, butt.

Oh yeah.  Been there.

So, I’m not even going to sit here and pretend that I have anything any more figured out than the rest of you do.  Don’t worry.

But I am going to tell you one thing.  And I am 110% sure that I’m absolutely correct on this observation.

Some of the songs that are being put out there for today’s youth to listen to?  Yeah.  They are NOT helping.

Holy crap, have you heard some of this stuff?  And yes, I’m blatantly aware that I sound like my mother right now, but ask me if I care.  Go on, ask me.  Because I’m not referring to anything like bad language in the lyrics or the decibel that the songs are played at (although I do wish my kids would turn that crap down…that can’t be healthy…).  No, this isn’t the typical “the world is going to hell in a hand basket” rant.

Ok, let me give you a few examples.

I Want Crazy – Hunter Hayes

Who cares if you’re all I think about,
I’ve searched the world and I know now,
It ain’t right if you ain’t lost your mind
Yeah, I don’t want easy, I want crazy…
Yeah, look at us baby, tonight the midnight rules are breaking
There’s no such thing as wild enough,
And maybe we just think too much
Who needs to play it safe in love?
Let’s be crazy!

[Oh no – you certainly don’t want to ‘think too much’ or ‘play it safe’ when it comes to choosing your life mate, right?  That is, like, soooo totally uncool.]

Please Don’t Leave Me – Pink

I don’t know if I can yell any louder,
How many times have I kicked you out of here
Or said something insulting?
I can be so mean when I wanna be,
I am capable of really anything,
I can cut you into pieces,
When my heart is broken.
Please, don’t leave me
Please, don’t leave me
I always say how I don’t need you
But it’s always gonna come right back to this
Please, don’t leave me

[Oh, don’t worry, sweetie.  Surely to goodness he wouldn’t leave you just from something silly like yelling, throwing him out of the house, or continuously insulting him, right?]

Marry You – Bruno Mars

It’s a beautiful night,
We’re looking for something dumb to do.
Hey baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
Is it the look in your eyes,
Or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares baby,
I think I wanna marry you.

[Oh dear God.  That is all I have to say.]

The Way I Loved You – Taylor Swift

He respects my space
 And never makes me wait
And he calls exactly when he says he will
He’s close to my mother
Talks business with my father
He’s charming and endearing, and I’m comfortable
But I miss screamin’ and fightin’ And kissin’ in the rain
And it’s two a.m. and I’m cursin’ your name
You’re so in love that you act insane
And that’s the way I loved you
Breakin’ down and comin’ undone
It’s a roller-coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that’s the way I loved you
He can’t see the smile I’m fakin’
And my heart’s not breakin’
‘Cause I’m not feelin’ anything at all

[Oh, T-Swizzle, how I hate to put you on this list.  I’m the last adult alive that still defends your music and your songwriting skills, but I have to call you out on this one, kiddo.  Wow.  Really?  Here, hun, I’ll tell ya what.  You don’t want that guy you described at the beginning?  I, along with the rest of the women on the FACE OF THE EARTH, will gladly take him off your hands.  Are you insane??]

*sigh*  I can’t list anymore examples.  My brain hurts.

So, you see a theme here, right?

These songs (and basically just society in general if I’m going to go ahead and lay it all out there) are teaching our kids that if love isn’t tumultuous and dramatic, then it’s not love.  If it’s not wild and reckless, it’s not love.  If there isn’t knock-down drag-out screaming craziness, then it’s not love.  If there aren’t grandiose breakups followed by tear-filled reconciliations filled with syrupy sweet background violins playing, then it’s not love.

Um, what?

No.  NO.  Just, no.

That crap is not love.  You know what that crap is?  That crap is a soap opera.  A movie.

Speaking of movies, my daughter and I watched another of your typical contemporary chick flicks over the weekend.  “27 Dresses.”  Cute movie, don’t get me wrong.  But it was soooo predictable.  And quite like the rest of it’s kind.  Entertaining, yes.  But realistic?  Ok, so you meet some guy – you’re super incredibly mean to him – and yet he still follows you around like a puppy, calls you incessantly (which you eventually find cute rather than filing the restraining order on him that you should have from the start if this were actually happening), and sends you flowers on a pretty much daily basis until you finally, against your better judgment, agree to go out with him.  Oh, and by the way, he’s drop dead gorgeous of course.  Of course.  (Have I sighed yet in this blog?  *Sigh*)

Well, in the middle of watching this movie, my boyfriend shows up at our house with food.  I knew he was coming, so we paused the movie and ate a quick lunch with him before he had to head to work for the rest of the night.  Now, mind you, this guy lives 30 minutes away from me.  So, bringing us lunch involved an hour’s drive round trip – all before going in to work a busy night shift as a bartender.  My daughter, being the inquisitive thinker that she is, just point blank asked me why he would do that.  So, I told her.

It’s because he loves us.

No, there are no flowers showing up at my doorstep every day.  No, there is no screaming at 2:00 a.m.  (Ok, well, maybe there was that one time…)  [Kidding, kidding…]  And no, we are not going to get married because ‘it’s a beautiful night and we’re looking for something dumb to do.’  So, sadly, I guess there aren’t going to be any contemporary hit songs written about our relationship any time soon.

And thank God for that.

But I am proud to have been able to allow my daughter to witness one moment of what a relationship should be.  Of what a relationship – a good relationship – really is.  And I hope with all of my heart that she goes on in life and remembers that day that Richard brought her and her mom lunch before he went to work.  No, our relationship isn’t perfect.  Not by a long shot.  But it’s real.  And that’s what I want her to see.  That is the standard I want her to use to base her future relationships on.

Sadly, I haven’t always shown her the example of a good relationship.  And I wish I could go back in time and undo that.  But, for now, and from this point forward, I hope she can watch and learn what I wish I would have learned a long time ago.  Relationships aren’t about the drama.  They just aren’t.  They’re about the quiet, tender times.

No fanfare.  No explosions.

Just an unexpected, love-filled lunch brought to you in the middle of a chick flick.

Just….sweetness.  You know?

Simple, pure, boring ol’ sweetness. That’s it.

***

“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.”  
– Louis de Bernieres, Corelli’s Mandolin

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