Ten on Tuesday - April 27, 2010

1. Songs get stuck in my head so easily. It’s particularly annoying when they stay there all night long, and at 3 a.m. when I’m up peeing, they’re still blaring around in my noggin. Last night, the song was “Joyful Sign” by the band Girlyman. I fell in love with their music on Saturday night, when they opened for the Indigo Girls. Amazing music; they are awesome. (Girlyman, and the Indigo Girls.) But I digress … “Joyful Sign” is about the way sometimes people leave you, and sometimes, that’s a good thing. It’s my new theme song.
2. What a whirlwind! I drove up to Madison on Friday, taking a half day off. The drive was interesting, because a rusty hunk of metal fell off my car. I don’t know what it was, but Frank will tell me when I get el guapo in to see him later this week. Anyway, I drove to Madison. Hung out with Elaina and her husband Chris (yes, she married not one, but two men named Chris) and their two kids. Then we were off to the show, stopping for sandwiches beforehand (grilled veggies and provolone, how do I love thee?). Amazing show. I laughed, I cried. No, really. Then on Saturday, we had breakfast (Elaina made homemade chocolate chip pancakes) and then she, the kids and I ran my errands. Beer for co-worker Lisa, bagels for me, Sonic goodies for all. By the time I got home Saturday night, I was exhausted but happy. Life sometimes twists and turns, but somehow it brought together two women (who used to be married to the same guy) and turned them into friends.
3. I either have nasty allergies or yet another cold. Just sayin’. And complainin’.
4. My budget is a constant struggle. I spend too much money on food. I like good food. Good food is expensive. I should probably eat less!
5. I started walking outside during my lunch break. There is a two-mile walking path near the office, and I’ve been enjoying a little sunlight each day at noon. Heaven, and good for me, too!
6. I dislike people who think they are more important than other people. This probably annoys me more than any other attribute. We all share the same world, and no one is more important than anyone else. Even on my princess days, I know that to be true. Why is it such a difficult concept? Why do people think the rules apply to everyone except them?
7. It’s a little after 3 p.m. and I’m already looking forward to going to bed tonight. Yeah, I think I have a cold.
8. Sometimes when I’m driving to work and singing along to the radio, I’m pretty sure anyone who sees me thinks I’m having some kind of psychotic breakdown. Then I laugh and keep on singing (and playing the steering wheel).
9. When I talk to my dad on the phone, often my brother is in the background holding his own half of the conversation. It is hysterical hearing him repeat everything my dad says, milliseconds after Dad says it. He absolutely cracks me up. (For those who may be unaware, my brother Mike is my twin and has cerebral palsy. My dad is his caregiver – yet another reason he should apply for sainthood. Mom took care of Mike up until she got sick, and I will always believe that he has the best sense of humor ever created. It’s been an interesting life.)
10. Smile more. It doesn’t hurt, and it makes other people smile more. We could start a smile revolution!

Grace

I'm not perfect.

But then, you knew that.

I am a work in progress, with oodles of ways I need to improve. Two major areas spring to mind: my physical health, and my financial health. I've come a long way in both areas ... and yet, I have so far to go.

When I'm not perfect in either of those areas - which is most of the time - I struggle to find the grace to let it go. I'm 43 years old, the little voice inside my head tells me. I should have my financial house in order. I should have built a strong and healthy body. But I'm trying.

It's a struggle.

I'm heading out of town this weekend, and I feel guilty doing it, because I don't have as much money in the checking or savings accounts as I wish I did, and gas to Madison won't be free. To say nothing of the fact that last year at this time I was showing up regularly for court date after court date, dealing with the bankruptcy while simultaneously fending off lawsuits from creditors. To say nothing of the fact that I now actually have a savings account. I've come a long way, and it still doesn't feel like enough.

I only made it to the gym twice this week. I feel bad missing my Saturday morning workout, because I'm missing a regularly scheduled gym day. Yet I can't seem to acknowledge the fact that two years ago, I was about 70 pounds heavier than I am now. All I can see is the 70 I have left to go. Two years ago, I didn't pay any attention to what I ate because then I'd have to be accountable. Those days, for the most part, are over, and it still doesn't feel like enough.

I know the road to both destinations will be long and often tedious. I know that anything worth having is worth the hard work it takes to get there. But I have such a hard time giving myself the grace to enjoy the process. Because I know that it isn't about getting there; it's about the lessons you learn along the way.

I've learned a lot, but there is so much left to learn!

So for the moment, today, this weekend, I'm going to find a little grace to share with myself. I'm going to set a budget for myself, and I'm going to eat with care, and maybe even take a walk around one of my favorite cities. I'm going to soak up the joy of spending a day with a most unlikely friend, revel in some amazing music, and let myself enjoy myself.

I'm going to forgive myself for my mistakes, and accept the opportunity to not make the same ones again and again.

Ten, on Wednesday

1. I’ve got to be a wee bit nutso. I’ve signed up to participate in the Chicago Muddy Buddy Race on August 1. It’s a relay, and my partner is co-worker Mike. The race is seven miles of off-road running and biking, and we trade off tasks; while he runs I bike, then we work through an obstacle together, and then he bikes while I run. My goal is to finish it, and not get injured. Or, ya know, die. In all honesty, I’m really looking forward to it. It gives me something to look forward to, a goal to keep my eye on so I keep plugging away at my fitness goals. Power on, Team Inconceivable!
2. Which reminds me … I started logging my calories and workouts again this week. Which sucks when you eat a half-pound cheeseburger, but I logged the calories anyway. (And it was worth it, lemme tell ya.) My re-established goal is to be in good enough shape to do well in the race on August 1, and be at my goal weight by Christmas. After all … 2010 is the Year of the Maggie. Might as well get everything I can out of it!
3. Blame is a waste of time. Just freaking move on.
4. My cubicle at work is in the flight pattern for planes landing at O’Hare. Anyone who really knows me also knows this is a horrendous distraction. I do love airplanes. And fire trucks. Although the office is not located in proximity to a firehouse, so I don’t see them nearly as often as I do planes.
5. It’s almost smoothie season! I got out my Jamba Juice recipe book and I’m fixin’ to make some delicious breakfast smoothies once the weather is warmer. May I say, yum.
6. I am headed to Madison this weekend. Just overnight Friday, when my ex-wife-in-law and I will take in an Indigo Girls concert; I don’t want to drive back that night, so I’m couching it at Elaina’s house. I’ll be missing my Saturday morning workout, but I think it will be totally worth it. I hope to get to Brennan’s Market to pick up beer for co-worker Lisa, and Gotham Bagels for a little somethin’ for me. It’s a little overnight vacation, and I’m pretty much ready NOW!
7. In July, my cell contract will be up, and by then I am determined to go iPhone. I’ve wanted one for more than three years, and I’m ready to stop waiting. The Blackberry has served me well, but it’s just wrong for a Mac girl to use a phone made by someone else. I have spoken.
8. I have a hot-pink streak in my hair. Just on the underside, so it’s understated. Well, as understated as hot-pink hair can be. I was at my friend Millie’s house over the weekend, and she wanted me to do her hair (all over pink streaks) so we did that … and there was bleach and color solution left over. Had to happen, right? I think it’s neat, and maybe even a little bit fun.
9. I don’t drink enough water. I drink water all the time, and still it’s not quite enough. I want to get my eight glasses in before the end of the work day, so I don’t spend the night peeing instead of sleeping. So far, EPIC FAIL.
10. I signed up to get travel deal updates from Travelzoo. It’s torture. I found a six-night Aruba vacation for $600, including airfare. Seriously? I may need to opt out of the e-mails just because it’s starting to feel personal!

Six years

Sometimes it seems like only yesterday Mom was sitting in her chair, wearing her "Queen" robe and watching baseball.

Other times, it feels like she's been gone for ages. So much has happened in the span of those six years, it's hard to believe that's all it's been.

Six years.

When Mom was sick, I began teaching myself to knit. Chemo took her hair, and she wasn't the type to wear a wig, so she opted for scarves and hats. My goal was to knit her the softest cashmere hat anyone had ever worn. But she was gone too soon, and the "hat" - really just 20 or so rows on double-pointed needles - is buried in a Zip-loc bag, waiting for me to find the courage to finish it. I made other hats; oh, I've finished countless other projects. But that hat defeated me. She left before the rows of yarn became anything at all.

I remember the day I shaved her head for the first time. Her hair was falling out in clumps and it was time to just give up the ghost. Her skin was so dry, I rubbed her noggin with mineral oil to keep it soft. She'd lost so much weight, but she never lost her spirit.

I remember making her chicken soup. I learned to make it, just for her. And she liked it. I felt like I'd really accomplished something with that first pot. I felt horrible when some of it spilled on the floorboards of my then-husband's car. (Looking back I think it's funny that in the summer his car smelled like an old refrigerator.) But Mom loved it (the soup, not the smell in the car) and I was so proud to have made something that she wanted to eat.

There wasn't much she enjoyed eating. It's odd all the ways the chemo/cancer combo affects the body; her sense of taste was just a mess. There were just a few things she really liked - namely, my chicken soup and brother-in-law Bernie's cherry cobbler. Any time she asked for either, we would make it. I think we both felt honored.

One day, her legs were so dry and itchy, she was uncomfortable. So I got some emollient salt scrub - I'm sure it was Kathie's - and I sat with a basin of water and rubbed her calves with the scrub, sloughing off the dead skin and leaving behind some rich moisturizer to hopefully keep the dryness at bay for the day. Sitting on the floor washing my mom's feet, I felt the role reversal. She who had once bathed me could now use a little help. And once again I was overwhelmed with a feeling of honor for being able to care for her.

At the time, I was only working part-time at the bookstore at College of DuPage. I had a little time on my hands, having been laid off by my fulltime gig a few months earlier. So I spent a lot of time at the house I grew up in, letting the woman who raised me lean on me when necessary and relishing the opportunity to be there with her, sometimes just sitting in silence.

And then that day came, all too suddenly for me, and she was gone. I was left with memories, a great recipe for chicken soup and a half-finished hat.

I think this winter, I'll wear it myself.

Ten, whenever

1. I have discovered what I consider the perfect pot of coffee. It’s a mixture of Starbucks House Blend and Café Du Monde’s signature coffee/chicory combo. I use equal parts of each, and it’s divine. I call it Maggie’s Blend. You should stop by for a cup.
2. Did you know they make vacuums specifically for bare floors? I didn’t; now I do. For $59.99 and a little elbow grease, I now have pristine hardwood. But I had to keep the beast so I could clean the area rugs. Or maybe I’ll just get rid of the area rugs.
3. With all the sickness and injury that has plagued me since November of last year, I’ve put on a little weight; all told, probably 10 pounds. Which is nice, coming in to swimsuit season. I’m trying to balance my need to take off the weight with my need to not overdo my workouts. This is not as easy as it sounds.
4. The gym. Oh, how I love the gym. Yes, I am being more careful, but I’m not missing my salsa/funk classes. I’m just having to be more careful. I am there as much for my mental state as I am for my physical health. I’d say it keeps me sane, but you have to have something before you can keep it.
5. Theater is like an old friend to me. To be sure, most of my experience of late has been as an audience member, but I truly love it. Which is why I get a little riled up when a self-proclaimed actor (whom I saw in a production in which he was one of the better performers, but when 99 percent of cast members make me want to read my book instead of watch the show, being “one of the better” is not good enough) decides to write a review blog and rips into actors who, on their worst day, were far and away better than he. He is the very epitome of douchey.
6. I’m writing a lot these days. I’ve hit my stride (finally) at the office and am being trusted to do some pretty cool projects, from naming jewelry to writing fresh copy for a super-cool upcoming launch of something … well … super-cool. I’m also working on a book project that details life in my world over the past four years or so. Will it ever be published? I don’t know. But it’s an interesting process, and one that I am enjoying immensely. And yes, in one way or another, you are all featured. The names, however, have been changed to protect the innocent. (Those who aren’t innocent, however, go by their real names.)
7. Forgiveness doesn’t come easily to me. But at least I’m an equal-opportunity grudge holder; I find it just as difficult to forgive myself as I do others. I’m working on it. Because it would seem that the first step in moving forward, putting the past where it belongs (ahem; in the past) is to forgive yourself. Then, you can have the clarity of mind to forgive others. Only then can the intense freedom that comes from letting go be yours. Or that’s what I’m learning, anyway.
8. I would really like to take a vacation. I don’t know if that will happen this year, because I’m trying to be verrry careful with my money. But I’m just putting it out there to make the universe aware.
9. My friend Russ is on a mission. He wants to collect a 10-line poem from every human being. You, gentle reader, are human … so go here and share a poem! Even if you’re not a poet; that’s the whole idea – that everyone has thoughts worth sharing. Do it!
10. Life is short, and words are powerful. The future is uncertain. Years ago, I saw an old friend for the first time in years. It was such a treasure seeing her - young Andrea, an amazing woman. I saw her in a musical and she was, as usual, stunning. We laughed a little, and when we said goodbye, I told her I was proud of her, and that I loved her. Days later, she was in a car accident that claimed her life. I remember that when I'm tempted to part ways with someone, having to have the last word ... the last, biting, sarcastic word. Life is short. Words are powerful. The future is uncertain. Leave people with words you would be proud to have them carry with them forever.

In review

Once I was just a little girl with a dream. A dream of being a princess. And an astronaut. And an astronaut princess. I knew I’d have to work hard to achieve my dream, because I didn’t know any princes, and was never terribly good in astronaut studies. But I did my best. And yet, I did not achieve my dream.

Alas, I became a writer, instead.

Trying to fulfill dreams and failing doesn’t seem to stop some folks, though, from continuing to pursue them. Even if they lack the talent required to be truly good at that which their hearts desire.

For instance, there’s this blogger. Let’s call him BB. BB wanted to be an actor, so he was active in community theater. He wasn’t very good, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing his dream. Then, he changed direction. “I think I’ll be a critic,” BB said. So he started a blog.

See, folks, you don’t have to be talented or even know how to correctly form an engaging sentence to get an audience on the Web. You just have to sign up for an account at www.blogger.com.

And that’s what BB did.

To say that he lacks finesse would be a gross understatement. To say that he doesn’t know the first thing about theatrical criticism would be another. To point out that he obviously is a throwback to the golden days of monospace type is blatantly obvious, as he insists on double spacing between every sentence. (This should provide a clue as to how “professional” he is, in case his uber-snarky 14-year-old-girl-with-a-slam-book delivery doesn’t do the trick.) But the real issue is his structure. He works through the show, character by character, constantly telling readers what he wrote in his notes.

The first rule of journalism is “show, don’t tell.” Don’t tell me what you wrote in your notes. If I gave a good God damn, I’d just ask to read your notes. Explain. Don’t tell me that an actor “never invests himself into the performance”; explain why that’s your opinion. And for the love of all that’s good and holy, do not criticize a teenaged actor portraying a teenaged character for needing “more time to mature as an actor.” At least not until the universe stops giving roles to Miley Cyrus. The teenager in question, while not perfect, gave a realistic portrayal of the angst of growing up.

To put it mildly, BB has no earthly idea how to write a review.

Would you let just anyone perform surgery on you, just because he or she had a scalpel? Get in an airplane piloted by someone who merely had a deep desire to fly? Probably not. You’d want to know that they had the education and credentials to carry out these tasks without incident.

Now I’m not saying that reviewing theater is a life or death situation. What I am saying is, if we’re going to take someone seriously, we should at least expect them to know more about the subject than we do. We should require them to be educated, write in a manner that is both fair and consistent, and entertain us. BB’s review is perhaps entertaining, but only to the lowest of his readership - those also willing to blindingly tear apart the cast, crew and staff of the show he most recently reviewed without any thoughtful analysis whatsoever.

I understand that any single review is also simply one person’s opinion, but unless you actually know how to write theatrical criticism, I won’t be taking you seriously. Dearest BB, I found your review to be froth with errors. Like that one; what you mean is “fraught.” But that’s okay. You can leave the actual writing to the actual writers.

The tough and the good

So I totally blew past my Tuesday posting. Could this be because my Tuesday totally blew?

Yes, yes it could.

See, here's the thing: If you're reading this, you know that I'm a sensitive person. Perhaps too sensitive. I've been advised on numerous occasions to gain a thicker skin, but it doesn't seem to be in the cards for me. Besides, science will tell you that as we age, our skin gets thinner, so it's probably not even possible.

Anyway, I accidentally stepped in it on Tuesday. I hurt a friend because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing. No, it's no like I kicked a puppy or anything. Oh, hell, if I try to describe it without explaining it, it's just going to be bulky and awkward, so here's the Reader's Digest version:

Tuesday was my Salsa/Funk instructor's birthday. It was also my first time back in class after missing two weeks. A group of classmates got together and bought gifts and things for the instructor, and made an announcement and had us sing Happy Birthday (with apologies to the representatives of Mildred and Patty Hill) and made quite a spectacle. A friend of mine handed me her video camera and asked me to tape the festivities.

Now, I hate cameras at the gym. They don't belong there. This is supposed to be a safe place, where we can jiggle and dance and not worry about being captured on film. But in the moment, I grabbed the camera and did what was asked.

Until my instructor looked at me and, in front of the class, said, "Maggie, please don't tape this."

It was a simple request. There isn't a nicer way she could have asked. And yet, I felt destroyed. Because I am such a sensitive girl, I shut down the camera, handed it back to its owner, and tried to hold back the tears. Now I know what you're thinking. "What on earth made her cry?" I'm not 100 percent sure, but I think it was the combination of being back after being sick and injured, the sensory overload of the celebration, and the knowledge that I had disappointed someone I admire greatly. And try as I might, I couldn't hold it together.

I made my apologies to my friends, and I got out of there. I drove home in tears. Because evidently I'm a 13-year-old girl. It was a perfect storm of emotion, and I got caught in the eye of it.

I'm okay now. I'm sad that my relationship with my instructor seems to have been damaged. I'm sad because I really try not to do things that upset people, and I failed miserably at that. And I'm sad because my apple cart got upturned. But life goes on, ever forward.

Back at the gym last night, I went to a class taught by a different instructor. Before class began, we were saying hi to each other, and I told her how pretty she looked, because she did - her hair was all curly and stunning and she just looked ethereal and beautiful. I just said it because it was true, and I certainly didn't realize how much it meant to her. But after I got home and logged on to Facebook, I saw the note she left for me, thanking me for my kind words, because they helped after she'd had a hard day.

And I thought to myself, sometimes, I get it wrong. Sometimes I miscalculate, and I make mistakes, leaving the people I care about wounded in some way. But sometimes, in a moment when I am just being myself, sharing the truth of life as I see it ... sometimes, I get it right.

Ups and downs

My Aunt Shirley had a theory. She believed that once the gallbladder was removed, it was all downhill from there. No medical science backed her up, but that's what she believed. Take out the gallbladder, and other things will begin to go wrong. Factor in that Aunt Shirl was an RN, and you start to wonder ... is there any truth to the theory?

If you look at the way my life has bumped along since last July, you'd have to wonder. I feel like I've gone from one illness or injury to another since having that damn thing taken out, but I refuse to be sucked in by the hair-brained idea. Sooner or later, I have to get well, don't I?

This latest round of my unwellness is related to my left knee. I injured ages ago, and I have to be careful of it. Something I did at the gym last Saturday really did me in, although as long as I don't have to walk, I'm fine. I've been limping since Saturday night, and now the muscles in my leg that allow me to limp hurt, too. I'm hopeful that rest will heal the sucker ... and you know how much I love sitting at home doing nothing. I limp in to the office every day, sit in my comfy chair, write for eight hours and limp home. I'm pretty sure that, when all is said and done, my sofa will have a butt-shaped dent in it.

In other news, my dad, sister Kathie and nephew Alex are in Disney World right now. I'm exceedingly jealous. Airfare is so high these days, I don't know if I'll get to take a vacation to an exotic locale, but I'm incredibly grateful to have inexpensive options, even if it means I'm hanging out in Lake Geneva for a week.

I love sleeping with the windows open. Last night it was particularly captivating, because there was a chill in the air and a full moon. Snuggle and dream.

Do you have a recipe for the perfect Bolognese sauce? Please share it with me.

I think this weekend it will be warm enough to take the top off the car. I'll bundle up if I have to, but I can't wait!

Oops!

I missed my Tuesday posting this week! I'm a little thrown off these days, but here I am, prepared to share what's been going on. Maybe not ten things, maybe more. I'm not counting today.

I've been deaf in one ear for a week. It makes me feel like Kelly, except it's on the other side. When I want to see "Flanagan's Wake" on St. Patrick's Day with Marge, I had to make sure she was on my left so I could hear her if she talked to me. She said it was like sitting next to Kelly in reverse. (The show, by the way, was hysterical. People who are really good at improv amaze me.)

The deafness has been driving me crazy, mostly because it causes a ringing in my ear that keeps me from sleeping. So I went back to the doctor and he found no infection, but did see a lot of inflammation in my ear, and congestion in my nasal cavity. (Pretty, huh?) So he prescribed a steroid and more rest. Turns out this burning-the-candle-at-both-ends thing has probably lead me to not fully recover from anything, and that's why I haven't really felt great since November. So I need to slow things down in order to get healthy. I can still go to the gym, he said, but I probably can't do everything else I want to do. It's hell getting old.

I went to the gym last night but was only able to do the first hour of my workout - the strength training part. My heartrate was way too high - like in a heavy cardio zone - during part of the workout, and that was a clear sign to me that an hour of cardio would not be a good idea. So I took myself home and made dinner, took a bath and was in bed early. Aging divorcee learns new tricks.

My friend Eric made me a box set of CDs for in my car. I'm enjoying the old-school manner of listening to music; instead of having every song in my library on my iPod, I'm choosing CDs and loving it. So here's my challenge to you: Make me a CD to listen to in the car. Put together songs you think I'd like to listen to, burn 'em to a CD and send it my way. Please?

I saw the absolute worst show. I'm not going to tell you what it was or where I saw it, because everyone should judge for him or herself, but oh my God. At the end of the show, I thought the cast should apologize. I thought they should offer me twice the cost of the ticket back, for paying and then sitting through this atrocity. It still hurts my brain. It makes me not want to see any community theater for awhile. It also makes me want to hit people who can't act or direct but insist on trying.

I look adorable today. My hair turned out like I always want it to but can never do on purpose. It's a good Maggie day.

I love having girlfriends. It's not something I'm used to; I've always been one of the guys. But suddenly these days I have strong and wonderful women at my side, enjoying conversation and laughter and a glass of wine and occasionally a night of really bad theater. It's a nice place to be, a part of this aging sisterhood of the travelling vino. I like it.

And that's all, for now. Later, friends!

No ten today, only joy

I know it's Tuesday, gentle reader, and that you've gotten used to learning ten things that are swimming through my brain. But not today, darlings. Today I'm on my pity pot and you're just gonna have to suffer through it with me.

I have a sinus infection. Now, if it were an isolated incident I wouldn't complain. But this is probably the third or fourth bout of crap I've had to deal with this winter. I'm quite done with it. And frankly, this damn thing hurts. I've never had a sinus infection before. I don't want one again. My routine these days is: Neti pot, cup of tea, saline spray, nap, repeat.

I'm simply not good at being sick. I would, thank you very much, far prefer to have someone dote on me and bring me tea and rub my feet while I whine. The cat has yet to learn how to do that, so I'm on my own. And none too happy about it.

In other news, there's a lot of death stuff flying around lately. A few weeks ago was the seven-year anniversary of Mama Rice's death. Experiencing the loss of Sue alongside Mike and the family helped prepare me for losing my "real" mom about a year later; we'll "celebrate" that next month. Today is the three-year anniversary of my friend Millie's mom's early departure from earth, in May it will be a year since we lost Eric's dad and to sit on top of everything like the grieving cherry on a horrible cake, my friend Gretchen's husband died of a heart attack late last week. See what I mean? Lots of death.

Now it does offer a bit of perspective. After all, I have a sinus infection, but I'm not dead. It serves as a reminder that life is short, and we should play while we can. We should smile and get out into the sunshine, because those who left us too soon would have wanted it that way. It doesn't help a whole lot in those moments when my jaw aches from the sinus pain (yes, it's that bad) but it does remind me that, even in the painful moments, there is still so much joy.

And at the end of it all, that's what we all need. As much as we need food, shelter and clothing, as readily as we require oxygen, we need joy. If you haven't had any lately, may I suggest going outside and dancing in the grass, listening to a baby giggle, or playing Springsteen's "Born to Run" with the windows down (cracked just a little if it's cold where you are) while driving for an ice cream. Because that's how they would've wanted it.

Ten on Tuesday

1. Photographs and Memories. It saddens me in ways I can't really explain that one of my dearest friends has checked out. Cute Brian was someone I leaned on pretty heavily during the early days of what I like to call the Great Marriage Collapse of 2006. He took me for a four-hour drive the day Chris moved out of our apartment. He met me for coffee or breakfast or whatever, every time I asked. He infused one of the toughest times of my life with increments of great joy; he just never ceased to love me. So it hurts a lot now, because I haven't heard from him since July, shortly after the gallbladder surgery. In the movie in my head, he was the first co-pilot of the Wrangler, since I was the first co-pilot of his, years ago. It sucks, but it is what it is.
2. Lady in Red. And white. And that God awful purple furry-looking thing. The fashion at the Oscars ranged from the sublime (oh, Penelope Cruz, you never disappoint) to the ridiculous (Zoe Saldana, really ... first of all, eat a damn cookie. Second of all, do you not have a full-length mirror?) I don't watch the Oscars. They annoy me. But I do follow the fashion, and there were some definite hits, misses and "what the hell was she thinkings?" All I know for sure is, my darling Penelope, Queen Latifah and Helen Mirren (can I be that pretty when I get to be her age?) were simply beautiful. Everyone else should take note.
3. Hooked on a Feelin'. I work hard. I play hard. I sleep hard. Those three things seem to go hand-in-hand. And I'll be damned, a lot of it has to do with finding stuff I love to do at the gym. Like Strike class - or ninja, as I like to call it. Kickboxing and combat drills, done with weights. For real. My shoulders are killing me today, and I can't lift my arms above my shoulders, but it's a really awesome feeling. Now if I could just convince a few more people to stop showing up at the gym so I can get a decent parking space ...
4. She Got the Gold Mine, I Got the Shaft. Okay, so he got a lot in the divorce by way of money, covered debts, wardrobe and worldly goods. (Sometimes I still miss that damn couch.) But I really did get the gold mine; I got my self respect, and some amazing people. Including (but not limited to) Elaina Burklow Seep, with whom I'll be seeing the Indigo Girls in April. What an odd pairing - two ex-wives of the same dude. Yet, we get along famously. I think I definitely ended up with the better deal.
5. Dirty Laundry. What are you doing August 1? You should come watch me and co-worker Mike in this race. Yes, I'm going to do it. Yes, it's going to be awesome. Yes, I'm probably going to get hurt. No, I don't care.
6. Look Out Any Window. It's gray today, but you can still see it. Spring. It's out there, waiting. Can't wait to see the first robin!
7. The Night that the Lights Went Out in Georgia. Or Arlington Heights. So, last spring, my electricity was shut off. Yes, my bill-paying was that bad. I lived for a few days with no power. Every day when I walk into my home and have light, it makes me smile. After years of living paycheck to paycheck, it's a good feeling to know that I can take care of myself.
8. That's Amore. Or just a distinct desire for Italian food. I have this jar of spaghetti sauce in the pantry that I cannot open. It taunts me.
9. Margaret's Car. Oh, I know what you're thinkin'. "What is she up to? All the other headings here are song titles, but that isn't." Well, you'd be wrong. My old friend Eric used to be in a band, and that was one of their songs. It was also the name of the band. See? I inspire art. Or I did, 18 years ago. Anyway, Eric created for me the Margaret's Car CD Box Set, four CDs to play in the Jeep. It's awesome. So what I'm thinking is this: You have music. You should probably make me a CD, too. You would if you loved me.
10. Good Morning, Starshine. Well, good morning yourself. I'd like the waffles, please.

What's goin' on?

I know it's Tuesday. I just don't feel like posting the usual list. Sue me.

Last weekend, I took my near-Godson to LegoLand Discovery Center in Schaumburg. Ross is the eldest son of my friends Marc and Polly. Ross' actual Godmom sorta fell down on the job. This is not okay where Aunt Maggie is concerned, so I stepped up to the plate. And had a great time! He is such a sweet, thoughtful and polite eight-year-old boy. I thoroughly enjoyed the entire day.

When I took him home after we built and raced cars, rode dragons and watched how Legos are made, I hung out with his mom, dad, brother, sister, grandma and assorted extended family into the night. It was incredibly fun, eating their food and talking as the sun went down and the laughter ramped up. This is family. And I'm included!

Okay, so it's no secret that last year my friend Jessica and I launched a non-profit organization. Did you not know? Well, feel free to check it out. Buy a t-shirt. We're incredibly proud of Choose Awesome, and though we aren't quite where we want to be yet, we're getting there. This week to the Awesome Blog we posted an interview with Rob Meadows, an organic berry farmer in Vermont. I love connecting with people who have made awesome choices, even when faced with sometimes unawesome reality.

I didn't make it to the gym last night. I got stuck at work a little late, and then I couldn't find a parking place. This irritates the Maggie.

Spring is in the air. Every morning when I wake up and open the blinds, I get a little thrill when I realize I don't have to sweep snow off the car. It's the little things, you know, that make life wonderful.

I'm good at my job. Lately, I've started to feel like I've really hit my stride. I've begun to challenge myself. I've begun to actually beat deadlines (with a club, no less.) It's such a blessing to get paid to do something I enjoy.

Every time I clean my rugs, the cat pukes on them. I think he knows.

I love you.

That is all.

10 on Tuesday

Well, here we are again. Another Tuesday. So what's been going on?

1. Let's Get Physical. Since I started wearing my heartrate monitor religiously (long about January 9,) I have intentionally burned 17, 785 calories. Yes, you read that correctly. I have spent 2,295 minutes working out, or roughly 38 and a half hours. It's no wonder I'm sore.
2. The Lion Sleeps Tonight. And mostly on my head. I am the proud owner of the sweetest, dumbest cat in the universe. He is whiny. He eats all my food. It's not unlike being married, except he hasn't yet spent my money. And yet, at the end of the day when I curl up on my sofa and he curls up on his Maggie, all is right with my world.
3. Beat it. Or that's what I'd like to do, anyway. We have this system at work for publishing to the Web. It was set up by another company. It works the way it's supposed to maybe 25 percent of the time. Therein lies my workday remorse. It makes me stabby.
4. Take the Weather With You. It snowed Sunday night. Not nearly as badly as it had threatened to snow, but it snowed. And I'm still enjoying it! With every snowfall, I keep thinking it might be the last of the season, and it makes me a little melancholy. I'm enjoying winter this year. This new leaf was a good one to turn over.
5. Bitch. There is a group of women - a small group, mind you - who insist on coming in to Salsa/Funk class early, before we've finished putting our equipment from Strictly Strength away. If I accidentally bruise one of them with a 15-pound body bar, it's not my fault.
6. Bring Me Some Water. Not that I'm thirsty, mind you ... I'd just like to sit near a body of water and let a little time pass. Soon, the weather will turn warm, and I'll sit on my towel at Lake Geneva, or I'll find myself on Lake Michigan, and be one with the waves.
7. Time Passes By. I've been feeling my age lately, missing the youthful talent I once had. We all get older, and it sure beats the alternative ... but sometimes, I miss the younger version of me.
8. I Gotta Feelin'. And it more or less feels like I need to stretch. My quads and hip flexors are very tight, and my shoulders are knotty. I wish I could afford a massage every couple of weeks, but I will have to settle for a soak in the hot tub.
9. Getting to Know You. I'm loving the Olympics. Not watching all that much, really - I caught the Opening Ceremonies, and I've seen a little skiing and skating, and of course the edge-of-your-seat action of curling. But what I've mostly enjoyed is when I catch the back story of the athletes, and I learn who they are and where they've come from. We've got some interesting people competing, and I've loved learning about their lives.
10. Sky. This week, the forecast is pretty much gray until closer to the weekend. But we've seen more blue skies and sunlight in the past few weeks than we have since September, and it's a welcome change. Come on spring! I know you're out there! Welcome back!

Two sides, one coin

Tonight, I went to the theater. And as remarkable as the show was, the most important dramatic moments happened in my mind. As it turned out, I sat between my friend Millie, whom I've known less than a year, and my favorite ex-boyfriend Stuart, whom I've known for more than 20, but with whom I've had almost no contact since 1994.

During the second act, it hit me: these two people, these two precious friends, know me as two different people. Stuart knew me when the tough parts of my life played out in secret. Let's not talk about the struggles of bulimia or scrapes that require legal representation or any of a myriad of other horrible facets of me at the time; as long as it's dressed up in a pretty package - as long as the world still sees me as a Good Girl - it's all good.

After he and I lost touch (which happens a lot, post-breakup) I began a very different journey, and one that landed me where I am today. The woman Millie knows is a college graduate, an accomplished cook, and someone who makes her mistakes out loud. Today, I'm a bit of a wild child (a hard-earned title, to be sure) and I consistently seek out joy, whereas in the past, I waited for it to find me.

I've become a person who has traveled to Singapore, been married and divorced, learned to make incredible margaritas, and discovered the importance of looking at life as an adventure. I wondered, for a moment there in the second act, whether or not Stuart and I would be friends if we'd just met. I honestly don't know, but the truth is, it doesn't really matter. There's so much water under so many bridges, and the only really important thing is that we've forgiven the past hurts and reached a place where we can just enjoy one another's company.

So I sat there, thinking about how I'm one person to the woman on my left, and another entirely to the man on my right, and it hit me: Nah, not really. I'm still me. I'm still authentic Maggie, or Margaret, or Mugs. I'm still the same person I've always been, deep down. Today's version is a little more brash, a lot more accepting of others, much more honest and way more comfortable with herself, and that's the important distinction. Because this is me, right now, today.

And I think she's pretty cool.

The bylaws

The bylaws originated years ago, when a bunch of us decided we needed rules to govern our semi-nutty behavior. As life has moved forward, so have the bylaws. Here are mine, as of today:

• Coffee first; then, face the day with a smile.
• Be loving and be kind. If you can manage that, you're way ahead of the pack.
• Don't listen to music that doesn't make you want to sing along, dance or smile.
• 80 percent of life is showing up. If you say you'll do something, follow through. Or learn to say "no" more often.
• If you practice gratititude, you'll discover you have more to be grateful for.
• Read the ingredients. Try to eat more "real" than "fake" food. Your body deserves it.
• Laugh. Especially at yourself.
• Spend time around people who inspire you.
• Take naps.
• Learn something new every day.
• Leave your work at the office whenever possible.
• Let people in at the merge. It won't kill you.
• Drink more water.
• Stop wishing for things you don't have or, worse yet, a life that isn't yours. Love what you have. Be joyful right where you are. Joy begets joy.
• Choose awesome.
• Enjoy something artistic as often as possible. See a play, read poetry, visit a museum. It feels indulgent, and it's often a great bargain.
• Develop your sense of wonder.
• And above all else, be your own priority, because you matter ... to me, and to a whole lot of others.

Rambling

Maybe I'll ramble about 10 things. Maybe I won't. I just don't feel like be restricted or required by the number 10 today. Ergo ... ramblings.

I don't like being treated poorly. The vast majority of the people in my life treat me beautifully, so there is such a stark contrast when someone treats me like poopy. I don't like it. I also don't tolerate it. This is why I have car keys.

I love Valentine's Day. I don't think of it as a particularly romantic holiday; for me, it's a day to love and be loved, by others and myself.

Salt and pepper brownies. You can blame the movie "Chocolat" for my latest creation, and I'm quite proud of them. They're a little surprising, but man are they delicious.

I spent Sunday afternoon through Monday morning in Lake Geneva. It was a tremendous break from my day-to-day, complete with my friend Laura's surprise birthday party (she's a Valentine baby) and lots of laughs with Amber. I hope I'm able to make it up to that neck of the woods more often this summer. I miss the tranquility that comes from being up north.

When I got back from Lake Geneva and unpacked my bag, Benld wanted to let me know how much he didn't want me to go away again. Sneaky, isn't he?

It's been four years now since my marriage ended. It seems like a lifetime ago. I don't recognize the person I was back then. I like me, now, a whole lot more than I liked me, then.

Last night I had dinner with some of my old theater pals. Kathleen and Shawn invited Tony, Eric, Millie and I over for a pot-luck festival of laughter and deliciousness. We are very funny people. Being with them makes me miss doing theater (a little) and them (a lot.) I'm so lucky to have them in my life ... even if only for the soup. Good God, the soup!

This is why I'm sometimes late for work. At the risk of showing the world my Inner Crazy-Cat Lady, I can't resist snuggling with this fat furry fella.

10 on Tuesday

Baby You Can Drive My Car. Actually, no ... no, you can't. But I can, and I really dig it! We're in the middle of what's shaping up to be some serious snow here in Chicagoland, and my drive to work was a blasty-blast. I don't really drive any differently. I'm still cautious, still careful, still taking my time ... but I sure do have a lot of fun doing it. (And Mike? Yes, you can drive it. You just need to get here.)

Are You Ready for Some Football? Again, no. I'm not. I hate football. But I had an awesome Super Bowl Sunday, thank you very much. Back in the day, the ex and I had a pseudo-tradition of spending Super Bowl evening with our friends Melissa and Ken. We'd curl up and everyone would watch the game while I read a magazine or knitted or something. There would be good food and great people, and we'd laugh through the evening. This year, Ken had to work, but the three of us had breakfast together and spent some time in their nursery (they're expecting their first in April) before he had to go. Then I was off to my dad's for a visit before I headed back for the evening with Melissa. It was a wonderful day; a new twist on old traditions. Reconnecting is a very good thing.

I Just Called to Say I Love You. I decided this week to share a little love on Facebook. I'm popping on to profiles of people I don't talk with often, just to say hello and I love you. It's kinda fun!

Let's Hear it for the Boy. I'm an "understudy Godmother." My friends Marc and Polly have three kids, and one of their boys' Godparents dropped the ball. Enter Maggie! I invited the little dude, Ross, to spend a day with me at Legoland. His mom wrote this to me by way of explanation: "He yelled 'yes' while pumping his arm in the air." It makes me grin super big to make that happen!

Sugar, Sugar. Do you like cut-out cookies? I do, but I don't have the patience for them. Which is why I love holidays, because my boss gets cookies from this place and they are so much better than any I've ever made. Now, one of my co-workers gets them, too, so this Valentine's season, I get TWO!

You Better, You Better, You Bet. I won the fourth quarter of the office Super Bowl pool. The Year of the Maggie continues.

The Way You Make Me Feel. Flannel sheets. Seriously. I love them. They are old and soft and lush. They make me happy. They also seem to lull me into perfect sleep. I kinda want to go home and go to bed now.

Let it Snow! It's pretty. And it's February 9; in three weeks, it'll be March! This might be the last real storm of the winter. (Probably not, but it might be!) So I'm enjoying it. Although I will say, winter and I got along really well there for awhile, but we've had a bit of a falling out. He'd better start behaving, or he'll get the silent treatment.

If You're Happy and You Know It. Clap your hands, stomp your feet, do whatever ... just get happy and do something! Happy is a personal state of mind. It doesn't have to depend on outside influences! Don't get me wrong - they can certainly help or hinder - but happy is a choice! Just be happy. Or fake it ... see if it rubs off in reality.

Boogie Shoes. After a tough December (thank you, bronchitis) I'm working really hard to make my normal schedule at the gym. I seriously love my regimen. How can you not love dancing three times a week? Sometimes it's ungodly crowded. Sometimes people are rude. But most of the time, it's a sweaty bit of heaven.

The Wrangler Protocol

Drive a Jeep Wrangler, and something strange happens.

You're instantly included in this wacky sorta brotherhood, in which every other Wrangler driver acknowledges you. A wave, a peace sign, and even a tipped hat have come my way in the scant few days I've been driving El Grillo. It's kinda neat. You should come take a drive with me, so you can experience it, live and in person.

10 on Tuesday

Another Tuesday, another 10.

1. Life is a Highway. Sweet Jesus, I love my car. There are moments when I can't believe it's mine. I have wanted a Jeep Wrangler soft-top my entire adult life. There's something about them that just speaks to me. Maybe it's the way they seem unafraid of the elements. Maybe it's the way they can shimmy out of their tops to welcome in the sunlight. Or maybe it's just the simple spirit of fun they seem to embody. But now, it's mine. When I get behind the wheel, I feel oddly untethered. There's a simple, pure freedom about this car. It is even more fun than I imagined it would be. I can't imagine what I'll say when the warm weather comes!
2. I Saw Her Standing There. I had a bit if an altercation at the gym last Saturday. My Saturday workouts begin at 8:15 with strength training under the direction of the Magnificent Pam. She guides the class through a gruelling hour of weightlifting, muscle toning and endurance. It's a great way to begin a weekend. Salsa/Funk with Laura comes next, at 9:30, and it's the easiest hour of hard work you can imagine ... unless a woman comes into class 12 minutes after it's started and stands literally right next to you. The class is always crowded, and this woman, whoever she was, made it so crammed that I couldn't really move, much less work out. So, I collected my belongings and addressed her, to let her know that if her workout was that much more important than mine, she was welcome to it. "Thank you," she said. Anyhoo, I went out onto the cardio floor and finished my hour on an elliptical trainer. But damn I was pissed! If it weren't for the fact that I think one of us was going to get hurt, either accidentally or passive/aggresively on purpose, I would've stayed to protect my turf. I think I made the awesome choice, and I'll be back this weekend. With a taser.
3. Hooray for Hollywood. Oh, Oscar, I love you so. Not the awards; I never watch. But I do love the nominations, and making an effort to see the nominated films.
4. Crazy for You. I'm ready for Lady Gaga's 15 minutes to be up. Now, hear me out. I think she has a phenomenal voice, and she's a talented musician, but there's so damn much production behind her, you'd never actually know it. Get a clue, Ga; Madonna did it before you, and she did it better. Cher did it before Madonna, and pretty much wrote the book. Madonna and Cher made it work. Ga, on the other hand, has created a scenario in which people consistently talk about what she wore, but never the vocal quality of her music. And there is quality there ... you'd just never know it. I wish she'd go away for awhile, and re-invent herself as singer rather than spectacle.
5. Kung Fu Fighting. After a tough (albeit interrupted) Saturday workout and a Monday night return to Ninja school, I am in serious knead of a massage. Just sayin'.
6. What's Your Name? The Jeep doesn't have an official name yet. Why, you ask? Because there are two things I generally don't do without the help of Mike Rice. 1) Buy sunglasses. He's the best judge of what fits my big head. Left to my own devices, I end up with things that are less than perfect. Over the last few years, I've had to do that, with less-than-stellar results. 2) Name my cars. I have never named my car. He first named my car back in college, when he christened my old Ford Probe "Lolita," because she had a little shimmy in the front end. So until I get a visit from Clan Rice Tucson, the Jeep will go by it's interim name, "El Grillo" (Spanish for "The Cricket.") My friend Shakespeare gave it this temporary name when we went for the first-ever joyride in El Grillo on Friday night. So El Grillo it shall be, until Mike drives it.
7. Drive South. Shakespeare is in a production of "Steel Magnolias" at the Geneva Underground Playhouse. The Southern-twang infused play opens mid-February. I'll be going; care to join me? (Yes, Bex, I know you're coming along!)
8. Doctor, My Eyes. I just want Taylor Swift to open hers all the way. She always looks like the sun is blinding her.
9. Workin' for the Weekend. Last weekend was pretty jam-packed, while this weekend appears to be blissfully open. Which is good, because the weekend after that is President's Day Weekend, and I've got lots going on! Heading up to Lake Geneva on Saturday night to hang out with Amber, and coming home on Monday, in time to make it to Kathleen's for a potluck Fab Four dinner. (The Four being me, Kathleen, Tony and Eric. Shawn and Millie round out the group.) I'm bringing cheesecake, and already looking forward to the extended weekend.
10. Home. On Saturday night, my little apartment was filled to the brim with girlfriends (and a work dude) all crowded together for a lia sophia Show. Yes, I work for the company, but I really do love the jewelry, so why not invite friends over and try on some of the pieces I rarely see in person? We had a blast, and it served as a sweet reminder that my place may be small, but it seems to expand to fit in as much love as anyone has to share.

Ten on Tuesday

1. I'm really tired. Usually, my alarm goes off at 6:30, and I tumble out of bed and stumble to the kitchen at around 7. This morning, I was up by 5:15, out the door by 6 a.m., so I could make it on time to ...
2. My mammogram. You'll be happy to know, my boobs are photogenic and "normal." And here's the honest truth: It's uncomfortable, but it doesn't cause grave pain, like some would have you believe. It's a necessary evil, but well worth going through each year. Not unlike ...
3. The dreaded Pap smear and annual physical. Had that today, too. Even had the doc check out all my moles and make sure there wasn't anything questionable going on. Got my flu shot (yes, it's late in the season, but Dr. K says it's still active, so now might be the smartest time to get it) and had her look at my ankle. Which hurts because ...
4. I over-extended the tendon that runs along the top of my foot. I can't go to the gym until I'm 100 percent pain free. This does not make me happy. If I can't shake my groove thing, I worry my butt will expand.
5. Dad made turkey and stuffing last Sunday, just because. So incredibly delicious. I could live on my father's stuffing.
6. He also took me to lunch today, since my doc and mammo appointments were in his neck of the woods. There's very little in the world I enjoy more than eggs and hash browns at noon.
7. I'm still looking for a car.
8. I don't think it's wise to be passive-aggressive and immature on Facebook. Maybe one or the other, but not both.
9. Olives in martinis are classic, but lately I've discovered the simple pleasure of a lemon twist. Oh, gin, you delight me.
10. My dad used to sing "Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam, and I'll show you a house full of shit." It still makes me laugh, and ya know, he's got a point. If the buffalo roam in the house, you get what you get.