10 on Tuesday, June 1

1. I love June. Summer makes me happy.
2. What a fantastic weekend! I was able to spend a lot of time either lounging poolside or driving with the top down. I keep sunscreen in my car out of necessity; I think that's the coolest thing in the world.
3. I'm slowly obtaining my summer glow. I know technically it's not healthy to tan, but I use as strong an SPF as I can (30) without breaking out in hella-hives, and I try not to relax out there for too long. I'm not going to spend the summer hiding in the shade.
4. Speaking of lounging in the sun, I came to an important realization on Sunday. I was at Polly's mom's pool, and it was hot and sunny. I had my swimsuit, so I decided to hop into it and cool off in the pool. Polly's cousin Jennifer was there, looking like her beautiful self, and by comparison I'm sure I looked like a sad whale. But as I told Polly, I'm over worrying about how I look. The truth is, I'm overweight. It's not like all of a sudden people will see me in a swimsuit and realize this! So why not take a dip with the kiddoes, relax on a lounge chair, and enjoy every gorgeous moment of summer? Why not, indeed.
5. I had completely forgotten that in Season Three of Moonlighting, the character of Sam is played by Mark Harmon. A very young Mark Harmon. The scene when David knocks on Maddie's door, intent on telling her he loves her, and Sam answers ... it's still heartbreaking after all these years.
6. Sometimes, no matter how hard ya try, ya screw up. The trick is to move on with some semblance of grace and dignity.
7. I really want more of those shishkabobs Polly made on Sunday.
8. The bad news: my scrubby soap thing melted in my gym bag. The good news: it smelled really good, and now everything in my gym bag smells like it. Not a bad trade.
9. It's vacation season and I'm not going anywhere. I wanted to, but airfare is just insane right now. So I'm going to let the money sit in my account and make more of itself for the time being. Besides, I need a new mattress and a new computer and lots of other things more than I need a vacation. I think.
10. Work is crazy in June. The people I work with are crazy in June, too. I fit right in.

Ten - May 26, 2010

1. I relented and put my little window air conditioner in the ... well, doy ... window. The temp climbed into the upper 80s this week, and from my swanky penthouse, it gets pretty steamy. Even with the a/c a'runnin', I can't get it cooler than 75 degrees. But there's a break coming, so it'll be off before we know it. And either way, I'm not complaining. I complain all winter long; I don't bitch in the summer.
2. Green tea mixed with lemonade is completely delicious. Occasionally, I add a splash of lime-infused rum, which just ups the anty a little bit. Tasty.
3. My nose is completely stuffed. I miss breathing. Actually, it's not so bad, except when I'm trying to sleep. I love sleeping, and I hate breathing through my mouth. Icky! Wah.
4. I spent the day last Sunday with the Ludena family - Polly, my old theater friend, her husband Marc, and their three kids - Ross (my Godson), Jack and Ro. Such sweet awesome people; love them! And the boys wanted nothing more than to ride in the back of Aunt Maggie's Jeep. Life is good. Got to see Ross and Jack in their program at church, have lunch with the family, and then see Ross and Jack in their piano recital. Their teacher was my Junior High choir director. (Cue the creepy animatronic puppets; it is a small world!) Had a blast, love the kids, and I really love the way old friends can come back to each other no matter how much time has passed.
5. Memorial Day weekend. Well, hello, summer ... you look good.
6. Boo-yah! At what age am I no longer allowed to say it? It's just so much fun!
7. On the financial front, may I have a drumroll please? I am no longer in default on my student loan. Within a few months, something good will actually be reported to the credit reporting agencies on my behalf. It's been awhile ... boo-yah.
8. There are storms in the forecast tonight. Yummy.
9. Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 79. She was a witty, wonderful, wacky woman. I miss her every day ... even more during baseball season.
10. I don't believe ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is the one trait that really makes me crazy, because it's a choice. A little research makes all the difference between ignorant and not-so.
    

Habits - the good and the bad

I walked at lunch today. The sky is a clear and perfect shade of cerulean. The breeze is warm. The trees are brilliantly green and the two-mile trail is almost free of water after the flooding last week.

I go every day, at around noon, as long as there isn't a torrential downpour. It feels good. It's a welcome break from sitting at my desk. I smile almost the entire way. Today, I walked by myself because my walking buds were either busy or late, so I had time to myself to think. And I thought to myself, "This walking thing is a pretty good habit."

It's not something I've done on purpose. It started out as just a way to break up the day. It wasn't my intention to create a habit, but if you do something often enough, regularly enough, it just sort of happens.

As I rounded the first curve, around the pond at the corner of Devon and Mittel, I came to the harsh realization that that is simply the way life works. Do something often enough, regularly enough, and you have yourself a habit.

Which probably explains the low self-confidence I've battled my entire life, or why the bad stuff is easier to believe, even if I'm the only one saying it. It's a habit. I've habitually let myself believe the worst, and I've kept repeating to myself over and over.

You're not good enough. You're too heavy. You're not pretty. Your head is too big. (Okay, that one is true.) You don't deserve it. Everyone else is better, smarter, prettier and/or more talented than you.

I've heard the whispers. Most of them are mine; I am a master of self-doubt. But today, I heard other voices. You walk fast. You are powerful. You could totally knock the crap out of that creepy old runner guy. I'm going to start listening to them; that's a habit I'd like to cultivate.

Change ... it isn't always for the better

I have this friend who really isn't much of a friend any more.

I felt bad about it for awhile, until I realized I really didn't like him any more. Not the "like" of a 13-year-old girl, mind you ... nothing remotely romantic here. He'd just changed, and he's no longer someone I want to spend time with.

This particular friend thinks that, depending on the circumstances of the day, it's okay to cut in line. To basically step in front of 30 or so other people and put himself first. I confronted him; he told me I was wrong. He apologized, but only as a way to open up the conversation again.

Then he called me a bully. He told me people are afraid to call me out when I do things wrong. He should meet my sisters. Hell, he should meet most of my true friends.

Which got me to thinking ... first of all, he doesn't really know me. Second, he's just not the kind of person I like to spend my time with. I don't feel any particular animosity toward him, I just don't want to be in his toxic presence.

I worry, because I know he talks to other people I know. But my friends know better. The people who know me are above this seventh-grade bullshit. So I'm at peace, because I've grown beyond friendship with this person. And there's something quite freeing about that.

Second star to the right

There are lots of bloggers out there. There are a few bloggers who dedicate themselves to evaluating community theater in our area. I tend to disagree with either their assessments (because they are self-important blowhards) or their ethics (because they accept free tickets).

So, just this once, I'm going to use this space to publish a review. While I'm not a national champion actor (whatever that is) nor currently theatrically active in any capacity other than audience member, I believe my opinions are valid.

Last night, I saw K-Pax at the Geneva Underground Playhouse (GUP). I went with a group of friends who gathered at Bistro Thai two blocks East of the theater beforehand. (I won't review the restaurant here, but trust me ... try the yellow curry.)

The GUP is quickly becoming one of my favorite venues to see a show. It's small, so you experience performances in a way few theaters allow. And with a show like K-Pax, it's perfect.

K-Pax tells the story of Prot (Scott Surowieki), an alien from the planet K-Pax. A kinder, gentler planet, if you will. Prot finds himself admitted to Ward Two of a mental institution, and here we meet not only his psychiatrist, Dr. Gene Brewer (Pat Able) but the other patients in the ward as well.

And I just told a lie. I said K-Pax is the story of Prot, but I really don't believe that. K-Pax is about what you, the audience member, decide it's about. You get to decide. Is it about mental illness? The fragility of the human condition? Going beyond ourselves? All I can say is ... yes.

Surowieki relishes this role. There are moments when he seems to devour it ... literally. His approach to his character is full-on acceptance of who Prot thinks he is. Able, as Dr. Brewer, has the unique ability to blend in and let the character of Prot be the star of the scene. This, in my opinion, is the mark of a truly great actor - someone who is willing to fade and let his fellow cast member shine. Particularly difficult when only the two men are on the stage, yet Able does it with a grace not often seen ... at least not by me. His portrayal of Brewer (a character, incidentally, named after the playwright) provides the audience with an understanding of the comfort level his patients have with him. If I didn't know he were an actor, I'd hire him to listen to my problems. (Dr., I have this rage thing against certain bloggers ... )

The first resident of Ward Two isn't a patient, but nurse Betty McAllister (Angelicque Cate). Cate brought to her character facets of many different medical professionals I've met throughout life - the nurse who comforted me and the doctor who sympathized with me over loss, to name a few. Cate's portrayal made me believe she cares about her patients. And when there was a moment of levity, Cate seamlessly helped us find the laugh.

The other residents of the ward include Chuck (Steve Lord); Ernie (Russ Devereaux); Bess (Angela Bend); and Howie (Peter Lemongelli). We watch their stories unfold as Prot gets to know them, and there are some stellar performances here. Lord shows his comedy chops and his tender side as we learn of Chuck's losses and yearnings for more. Devereaux introduces you to Ernie in a way that breaks your heart and then puts it back together again as he faces his fear and moves past it. Way past it. Bend beautifully embodies the impact violence has had on Bess, and soon you find yourself rooting for her the same way Prot seems to be.

And then there's Howie. Lemongelli moved me to applause and to tears almost simultaneously with his portrayal of this damaged soul. Howie is a jewel just preparing to shine.

Actually, that description works for every patient of Ward Two. And it's Prot who points them toward their next steps, who ties the story together and who shows the impact one person can have on the lives of others.

The character of reporter Giselle Griffen (Kathy Richardson) is introduced in Act I, and I'm still not sure why. She doesn't move the story forward a great deal, and she doesn't help us understand the other characters. But Richardson has taken her character and created someone who, while possibly a candidate for Ward Two herself, is searching for her story as she writes it. There's a little bit of all of us in Giselle.

This is a true ensemble show, and the cast is a true ensemble. While Lemongelli gives a standout performance, he doesn't overshadow his castmates. What we have here is a collection of actors who clearly care more about their story - and each other - than they do about personally stealing any moment of any scene. I attribute this to great casting, great directing and quite simply great people. I'd like to have coffee with each and every actor in K-Pax.

Was there anything I didn't like? To be honest, scene changes dragged a bit. There aren't great transformations to be made on the set, and the show would flow more effortlessly if these could be tightened up. And while it was a tiny bit obvious that some dialogue was bungled early on during the May 14 performance, I have no doubt that the actors will correct this before their next performance; those errors generally happen only once. And while I'm on the subject, it did not go unnoticed that the actors steered the story right back on track, while including all the important information and remaining flawlessly in character the entire time.

So take my advice. See K-Pax. Let yourself be moved.

The fine print: I am not an unbiased critic. Several members of the cast are friends of mine. I've known the director since we were both young (and quite adorable, I might add). But I am also a very honest, very critical audience member. If I had the money, I'd pay for your ticket.

Ten on Tuesday - May 11 edition

1. Dull girl? Not a chance, but there’s a risk of life becoming (almost) all work these days. Lots of projects. Lots of deadlines. Lots of me pulling my hair out (which isn’t pretty because, let’s face it, at my age it’s already starting to thin.) But I’m capable, and I know where the coffeepot is. I’ll get through it; you just might not hear a lot from me until July.
2. I walked at lunch today, even though it was raining.
3. The Code stands strong. I have an ethical code that runs along my spine, and when challenged, Maggie gets cranky. My challenge is to learn to respect people whose ethical boundaries differ from my own. It’s not easy. That’s why they call it a challenge.
4. I hate my mattress and my couch. And my budget, which doesn’t currently allow for replacement. Not looking for a solution, just venting.
5. I love ending the day with a hot cup of something. Maybe it’s just because the nights lately have been super-chilly, but when 10 p.m. approaches and there’s cocoa or tea or decaf in my cup, I’m a happy woman.
6. Ground flax seed has the consistency of potting soil, but it makes my yogurt stick to my ribs so I’ll keep eating it.
7. Edy’s makes a S’mores flavor ice cream. You should eat it.
8. I spent Mother’s Day with my dad, and Patrick’s family. (Not at the same time, but in that order.) It was a lovely day. It was the first time being without Mom on Mother’s Day really hit me, maybe because this year we didn’t gather as a family. But it was good. It was exactly how it should have been. Time with Dad is a strong connection to family, and to the woman who was my mother. Time with Patrick’s family is loud and accompanied by great food. What more could you ask for?
9. Last week, co-worker Lisa and I put together some displays of jewelry and she photographed them for our magazine. We created something really quite pretty, and useful. It reminded me of the last-minute photo shoots for the feature page at the Daily Eastern News … except not.
10. When the money is tight, there’s nothing better than cheap food, shared with friends. Hell, that’s true even when the money isn’t tight.

A kinder, gentler driver

I love driving my car.

Tell me when you get tired of hearing that.

But I think the best part is that whole Wrangler brotherhood thing. Or sisterhood, what with the boobs and all. The Wrangler kinship, I'll call it.

It's simple, and I've written about it before - the way most Wrangler drivers acknowledge one another as we drive past. Most of the time, it's a wave. Often, it's a peace sign. Occasionally, it's a salute. I've even had a few blown kisses. (Incidentally, to date, every single Wrangler driver who has not offered some sort of greeting was driving what I consider the non-Wrangler. The four-door yuppified version. So it doesn't really count.)

Anyway, it always makes me smile, and today I got to really thinking about it. How cool is it that having one thing in common - the car we drive - makes us treat each other kindly? How incredible that we intentionally greet one another, simply because we all share a certain fondness for a particular type of automobile.

So here's what I'm thinkin': start waving at cars like yours. Drive a minivan? Be proud! Wave at other minivans! Own that mustang and wave at your fellow enthusiasts! Be truly edgy: drive a mercury Grand Marquis like my 80-year-old dad, and start waving at others who drive them.

Sure, most people will think you're a special kind of nutso. But ... what if it caught on?

It's been quite a week

I have never been quite so happy for Friday to come along. This week has absolutely kicked my ass. Anything that could possibly have gone wrong, has gone wrong. Some things that could not have gone wrong went wrong just to spite me.

Yeah, it's been one of those weeks.

And yet, I'm still smiling. I took my lumps - and there were plenty. As I told a co-worker this morning, there's plenty of room on the blame train for all of us, so let's just get on, ride to the next station, and leave the damn thing behind us.

Suffice it to say that I'm exhausted, and there's no real end in sight. Until maybe July-ish.

The best part is, even through the mayhem, I've kept my sense of humor. I've listened to good music, taken my lunchtime walks and left work on time every day but one. I've made it to the gym for all my regular classes. And today, co-worker Lisa and I walked to Dairy Queen at lunchtime. There's something quite decadent about eating ice cream in the middle of one's mid-day workout, don't you think?

I'm not saying it hasn't been a challenge. Au contraire, mon cher ... it's been moment to moment sometimes, in this quest to Choose Awesome. But I've done okay. And there's only one day left! I can see Friday from here, and I'm pretty damn happy about that.

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.