Remember the cartoon strip "Happiness Is. . ."? Well, here are a few of mine. Take a minute and think of your own!
Happiness is riding your bike down that secret path you discovered years ago and it's still special.
Happiness is knowing you helped put a smile on a friend's face.
Happiness is capturing the briskness of an early August morning before it hits 90 degrees.
Happiness is knowing you picked the right person.
Happiness is your child saying, "Look at the sunset!"
Happiness is calling the town you grew up in "home", even if you don't live there any longer.
Happiness is playing that music box your old boyfriend gave you.
Happiness is laughing so hard you really do pee your pants!
Happiness is having two brothers!
Happiness is an unopened box of tissues to use up while watching Cinema Paradiso.
Happiness is a yellow smiley face latch hook rug.
Happiness is old friends and new friends.
Happiness is a phone call from your sister right as you're picking up the phone to call her.
Happiness is the memory of your little red rug from kindergarten.
Happiness is having a mother-in-law you love.
Happiness is reading Gone With the Wind for a fourth time, and not deciding until the last page if Scarlett wins back Rhett.
Happiness is smiling in your sleep because your dream really is that good!
Happiness is loving a book so much you write a character analysis of each one so you never forget them.
Happiness is thinking fondly of your parents and calling them!
Happiness truly is the simplest of things in life. Discover it every day.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Kindles, Nooks, and Old-Fashioned Books
I want to embrace the 21st century. I really do! I've turned in my foot-long cell phone for something narrow and chic that slides into my pocket. It vibrates and makes me feel good. I blog, e-mail, and Facebook. I do Intel spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations when forced. But God, I hope I never get an e-reader.
I was on the subway this morning and didn't have my own reading material. I thought I'd just "borrow" material from the woman next to me. She had a Kindle. Nowhere on the "page" did it list the book title or the author. I need to be a bit discriminating when I'm readdropping. (Yes, I just coined a word. I get credit.) I want to know if it's a mystery, textbook, romance or porn. But with an e-reader, there is a setting so the title and author are hidden from prying eyes.
Seated across from me, a passenger was reading Paulo Cohello. Not my favorite author, but if we were next to each other, I'd have spent a few minutes craning my neck to read a page or two. Don't worry, I'm aware how irritating others might find my readdropping habit. I'm starting to think the Kindle reader on the subway intentionally didn't display the title so as to deter my readdropping.
For most of us, it's difficult to start up a conversation with a stranger. However, reading material--visible reading material--is a perfect ice breaker. Recently, a fellow rider was reading A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry. I was consumed with the need to voice my opinion. After giving her my over-dramatic review of how well the author portrays the strength of the human spirit no matter what horrific events crash down onto the characters, she looked at me and said, "It's so depressing. Does it get a little lighter?" Apparently, she didn't listen to a word of my five-minute diatribe. I missed my stop I was so involved in my re-enactment. I noticed her bookmark was barely placed one-third into the book. (Another thing e-reader doesn't have visible.) I gave her a smile. The virtual bubble over my head stated: You think it's depressing now, you may want to lock up the kitchen knives before you finish the book.
I've read tv scripts over people's shoulders, perused porn magazines, and read a term paper about Louis Pasteur via my neck-craning method. Along the way, its opened up some lively conversations.
I can only hope my readdropping days and talking to complete strangers aren't coming to an end.
Long live the paperback!
I was on the subway this morning and didn't have my own reading material. I thought I'd just "borrow" material from the woman next to me. She had a Kindle. Nowhere on the "page" did it list the book title or the author. I need to be a bit discriminating when I'm readdropping. (Yes, I just coined a word. I get credit.) I want to know if it's a mystery, textbook, romance or porn. But with an e-reader, there is a setting so the title and author are hidden from prying eyes.
Seated across from me, a passenger was reading Paulo Cohello. Not my favorite author, but if we were next to each other, I'd have spent a few minutes craning my neck to read a page or two. Don't worry, I'm aware how irritating others might find my readdropping habit. I'm starting to think the Kindle reader on the subway intentionally didn't display the title so as to deter my readdropping.
For most of us, it's difficult to start up a conversation with a stranger. However, reading material--visible reading material--is a perfect ice breaker. Recently, a fellow rider was reading A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry. I was consumed with the need to voice my opinion. After giving her my over-dramatic review of how well the author portrays the strength of the human spirit no matter what horrific events crash down onto the characters, she looked at me and said, "It's so depressing. Does it get a little lighter?" Apparently, she didn't listen to a word of my five-minute diatribe. I missed my stop I was so involved in my re-enactment. I noticed her bookmark was barely placed one-third into the book. (Another thing e-reader doesn't have visible.) I gave her a smile. The virtual bubble over my head stated: You think it's depressing now, you may want to lock up the kitchen knives before you finish the book.
I've read tv scripts over people's shoulders, perused porn magazines, and read a term paper about Louis Pasteur via my neck-craning method. Along the way, its opened up some lively conversations.
I can only hope my readdropping days and talking to complete strangers aren't coming to an end.
Long live the paperback!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Here a List, There a List, Everywhere . . .
The other day a co-worker saw me making a list.
"Wow! That's what I need to do!" he exclaimed.
I mean . . really! Half my day is taken up writing lists. I don't have a blackberry or iphone/touch/pad so it's all done the old-fashioned way. A pen and paper. I usually have a notebook with me, but not always. Really, anything that soaks up ink will do. Sturdy toilet paper, receipts, back of checks, envelopes, hand. The possibilities are endless. When I need to make a list, it needs to be recorded that instant. It's that important!
I have a variety of lists:
Things To Accomplish Immediately
Things To Accomplish By Next Week
Things I'd Like To Accomplish Immediately
Things I'd Like To Accomplish By Next Week
Things I Think I Should Accomplish Soon
Things I Should Have Accomplished in High School
Things I Should Have Accomplished in College
Things I Should Have Accomplished . . You get the modus operandi
Things I'll Never Accomplish No Matter What
Grocery List For Trader Joe's
Grocery List For Zabar's
Grocery List For Local Grocer on The Corner So They Don't Go Out Of Business
Questions To Ask My Son's Teacher At The Next Conference
Questions I'd Really Like To Ask My Son's Teacher But Am Too Afraid To Ask
Realistic Goals
Semi-Realistic Goals
Goals So Unattainable If List Got Published I Could Be Committed
I'd like to pass on some List-Making Tips so your lists can be as productive as possible!
1. Date the list, including the year. Lists have a way of resurfacing. I was speaking elementary Spanish to my son's French teacher. He hadn't had Spanish for two years.
2. Write neatly. Better yet, print. Many times, I can't decipher what I've written. I spend the remainder of the day trying to recall what I needed to accomplish that day.
3. When the goal is accomplished, make a neat check next to it. I've crossed out goals on my "To Do" list so severely, only to waste time later wondering what I crossed out and why I scribbled so angrily. Yet again, another time waster.
4. Be specific, yet comprehensive.
"Call TJ. Tell her you saw her honey w/ another woman."
First and last names always. This list could find a black hole only to resurface two months later. Did you mean your friend TJ or your friend Taylor Jean? Do you mean Honey, her cat, who went missing, or honey in reference to her dirt-bag husband? See, you can never be too specific.
5. Once your hand starts to cramp from your list-making, take a break and do whatever the hell you want to do. And have fun!
"Wow! That's what I need to do!" he exclaimed.
I mean . . really! Half my day is taken up writing lists. I don't have a blackberry or iphone/touch/pad so it's all done the old-fashioned way. A pen and paper. I usually have a notebook with me, but not always. Really, anything that soaks up ink will do. Sturdy toilet paper, receipts, back of checks, envelopes, hand. The possibilities are endless. When I need to make a list, it needs to be recorded that instant. It's that important!
I have a variety of lists:
Things To Accomplish Immediately
Things To Accomplish By Next Week
Things I'd Like To Accomplish Immediately
Things I'd Like To Accomplish By Next Week
Things I Think I Should Accomplish Soon
Things I Should Have Accomplished in High School
Things I Should Have Accomplished in College
Things I Should Have Accomplished . . You get the modus operandi
Things I'll Never Accomplish No Matter What
Grocery List For Trader Joe's
Grocery List For Zabar's
Grocery List For Local Grocer on The Corner So They Don't Go Out Of Business
Questions To Ask My Son's Teacher At The Next Conference
Questions I'd Really Like To Ask My Son's Teacher But Am Too Afraid To Ask
Realistic Goals
Semi-Realistic Goals
Goals So Unattainable If List Got Published I Could Be Committed
I'd like to pass on some List-Making Tips so your lists can be as productive as possible!
1. Date the list, including the year. Lists have a way of resurfacing. I was speaking elementary Spanish to my son's French teacher. He hadn't had Spanish for two years.
2. Write neatly. Better yet, print. Many times, I can't decipher what I've written. I spend the remainder of the day trying to recall what I needed to accomplish that day.
3. When the goal is accomplished, make a neat check next to it. I've crossed out goals on my "To Do" list so severely, only to waste time later wondering what I crossed out and why I scribbled so angrily. Yet again, another time waster.
4. Be specific, yet comprehensive.
"Call TJ. Tell her you saw her honey w/ another woman."
First and last names always. This list could find a black hole only to resurface two months later. Did you mean your friend TJ or your friend Taylor Jean? Do you mean Honey, her cat, who went missing, or honey in reference to her dirt-bag husband? See, you can never be too specific.
5. Once your hand starts to cramp from your list-making, take a break and do whatever the hell you want to do. And have fun!
Friday, January 7, 2011
Christmas Ornaments
It's January and the Christmas decorations are coming down. In December, as I was decorating the tree, I realized I do this for me, not my children.
Go ahead, judge me! Call child services!
As I got out my Christmas accouterments, (garland, ornaments, lights, stockings, snow globes, icicles, Santa salt and pepper shakers, earthenware North Pole teapot) I encouraged the kids to come help me until my throat hurt.
"Come on, you guys! Help me decorate this . . . gosh . . . dang . . . tree!" Eventually, I started putting the ornaments on by myself.
That's when it hit me. Each one of these ornaments take me to another time, another place.
In 1986, my roommate and I made ornaments. I picked up one of my favorites, a cross-stitched Gingerbread Man. "Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man." Every time I read that book, I root for the little guy with the gummy bear buttons. Curse that fox for doing what comes naturally.
A year later, a friend and I went to Hong Kong. I purchased two dozen intricately beaded snowmen and angels. I envision a factory full of Chinese workers diligently stitching each bead onto my Frostys and Gabriels. Their eyebrows knitted together as they curse. "All this work to put on a tree for two weeks. Crazy people!"
One year, my Jewish boyfriend loaded me down with beautiful hand blown ornaments from Aventura on Columbus Avenue. But my most treasured ornament from him is a dill pickle in honor of my favorite food. Or was it because I liked the shape so much? Mmm, I'm not sure now!
In the early '90's, my husband and I hosted Christmas parties. Friends gave us beautiful ornaments. As I hang these, I vow to get in touch with each and every one of them.
I hang old Christmas cards if I deem the friend worthy enough. I have a 15-year-old card that gets displayed every year. It's from a friend who moved to LA with her husband and baby. Never mind that she has two more kids and is now divorced. When I hang that card, I get to reminiscence about something that no longer is.
I have ornaments commemorating my wedding and my children's births; handmade Sunday School ornaments from my children. I hang these with extra care.
My daughter finally did come to help. After hanging the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion, she skipped back to the TV room, content that she had done her job. (Only I get to handle Dorothy and Toto.)
Go ahead, judge me! Call child services!
As I got out my Christmas accouterments, (garland, ornaments, lights, stockings, snow globes, icicles, Santa salt and pepper shakers, earthenware North Pole teapot) I encouraged the kids to come help me until my throat hurt.
"Come on, you guys! Help me decorate this . . . gosh . . . dang . . . tree!" Eventually, I started putting the ornaments on by myself.
That's when it hit me. Each one of these ornaments take me to another time, another place.
In 1986, my roommate and I made ornaments. I picked up one of my favorites, a cross-stitched Gingerbread Man. "Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man." Every time I read that book, I root for the little guy with the gummy bear buttons. Curse that fox for doing what comes naturally.
A year later, a friend and I went to Hong Kong. I purchased two dozen intricately beaded snowmen and angels. I envision a factory full of Chinese workers diligently stitching each bead onto my Frostys and Gabriels. Their eyebrows knitted together as they curse. "All this work to put on a tree for two weeks. Crazy people!"
One year, my Jewish boyfriend loaded me down with beautiful hand blown ornaments from Aventura on Columbus Avenue. But my most treasured ornament from him is a dill pickle in honor of my favorite food. Or was it because I liked the shape so much? Mmm, I'm not sure now!
In the early '90's, my husband and I hosted Christmas parties. Friends gave us beautiful ornaments. As I hang these, I vow to get in touch with each and every one of them.
I hang old Christmas cards if I deem the friend worthy enough. I have a 15-year-old card that gets displayed every year. It's from a friend who moved to LA with her husband and baby. Never mind that she has two more kids and is now divorced. When I hang that card, I get to reminiscence about something that no longer is.
I have ornaments commemorating my wedding and my children's births; handmade Sunday School ornaments from my children. I hang these with extra care.
My daughter finally did come to help. After hanging the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion, she skipped back to the TV room, content that she had done her job. (Only I get to handle Dorothy and Toto.)
Another year has come and gone. Good tidings to all!
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