As my birthday approaches this week, I figure it's a good time to write down my beliefs and philosophies as I see the world.
Cindy 4.1:
I believe life is good. It's complex and difficult and beautiful. I believe each of us is here for a reason; otherwise, why would life be so complex and difficult and beautiful?
I believe in kindness. Small acts or grand gestures -- the result is the same. I believe most of society's ills could be smoothed over with even a small measure of kindness, performed by people who go about quietly, unnoticed by cameras or reporters or bloggers or anyone else, for that matter.
I believe there is great power in silence. It helps me recharge and find solace from an otherwise noisy world. I believe it is powerful to be silent when others expect me to shout and react with fire.
I believe in laughter. It's the most important part of a rigorous health plan.
I believe in God. I believe I am his child. I believe He loves me. I believe in developing a relationship with Him.
I believe in having fun. I believe in hefty amounts of horsepower and driving really fast. I believe everyone should ride in a sailboat at least once in their lives.
I believe that chapstick and sunglasses are among life's essentials.
If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, then I believe the way to a woman's heart is through the kitchen. Clean that place up!
I believe there will be food in Heaven.
I believe in working hard for what you want, and even for things that don't seem as important. They might be important to somebody else.
I believe in daydreaming and having dreams and working to make those dreams come true. I believe The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is like looking at the inside of my own brain.
I believe it's important to continually learn new things. Fuel your curiosity. Take things apart. Read books on every subject and observe the world around you. Then, take what you learn and use it to make your corner of the world a better place; especially if it's right within the walls of your own home.
Yes, I believe life is good; but I also believe it is up to me to make it so.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Odd Jobs, Odd Memories
Babysitter
Paper Girl
Peer Tutor
Jewelry Store Clerk
JC Penney Clerk
Waitress
Truck Stop Attendant
Preschool Teacher
NASA Intern
Elementary School Teacher
Floral Designer
Automotive Journalist
Freelance Writer
Once, while interning with NASA, I got to have lunch with David Levy, who was half of the team that discovered the Levy-Schumaker comet, which crashed into Jupiter. We ate hot dogs.
Once, while working at a truck stop, I met THE Tony Roma.
Once, when I was a paper girl, a guy in a Jeep clipped the rear tire of my bicycle and I went flying over the handlebars and crash-landed right into my dad's insurance agent's mailbox.
Once, while on assignment as a freelance writer, I got to meet LaVell Edwards, who called me "Cutie" and winked at me. He asked me if I was any good at golf and I asked him if he was any good at football.
Once, as an automotive journalist, I got to go off-roading in a Toyota FJ Cruiser along the San Andreas Fault.
Once, when I worked at JC Penney, there was this guy who always talked about going to Med School. It took me several weeks to figure out he was actually talking about Mexico.
Once, while waiting tables at our local Sizzler, a guy tried to set me up with his son. The son was also sitting at the table and turned four shades of crimson.
Isn't gainful employment awesome?
Paper Girl
Peer Tutor
Jewelry Store Clerk
JC Penney Clerk
Waitress
Truck Stop Attendant
Preschool Teacher
NASA Intern
Elementary School Teacher
Floral Designer
Automotive Journalist
Freelance Writer
Once, while interning with NASA, I got to have lunch with David Levy, who was half of the team that discovered the Levy-Schumaker comet, which crashed into Jupiter. We ate hot dogs.
Once, while working at a truck stop, I met THE Tony Roma.
Once, when I was a paper girl, a guy in a Jeep clipped the rear tire of my bicycle and I went flying over the handlebars and crash-landed right into my dad's insurance agent's mailbox.
Once, while on assignment as a freelance writer, I got to meet LaVell Edwards, who called me "Cutie" and winked at me. He asked me if I was any good at golf and I asked him if he was any good at football.
Once, as an automotive journalist, I got to go off-roading in a Toyota FJ Cruiser along the San Andreas Fault.
Once, when I worked at JC Penney, there was this guy who always talked about going to Med School. It took me several weeks to figure out he was actually talking about Mexico.
Once, while waiting tables at our local Sizzler, a guy tried to set me up with his son. The son was also sitting at the table and turned four shades of crimson.
Isn't gainful employment awesome?
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Swimming
Oh. Hi there. After a long break from blogging, I've decided it's
time to get back at it.
It's summertime, and summertime makes me think of swimming.
When I was a kid, our back yard swimming pool made me feel rich. We were poor as dirt, but hey, it was Arizona, so pools were pretty common. Especially when I was younger, say 8 or 9, I lived in my little TG&Y swimsuit. I stayed out in the pool long after everybody else was too tired or hot from the 110+ degree weather. In fact, this was my favorite time in the pool because I was transformed into a movie star. I would perform magical, musical water revues in the style of Esther Williams. I barely had the ability to do a front flip off of our stiff little diving board, but I was a bathing beauty. I would twirl beneath the surface, enveloped in millions of tiny, sparkly bubbles. When I surfaced, I would kick my legs high into the air and smile at my adoring fans, which were nothing more than the slats in our wooden fence. I glided across the water like a graceful mermaid and splashed little droplets of water so they glittered like diamonds.
Yeah. I was so cool.
It's summertime, and summertime makes me think of swimming.
When I was a kid, our back yard swimming pool made me feel rich. We were poor as dirt, but hey, it was Arizona, so pools were pretty common. Especially when I was younger, say 8 or 9, I lived in my little TG&Y swimsuit. I stayed out in the pool long after everybody else was too tired or hot from the 110+ degree weather. In fact, this was my favorite time in the pool because I was transformed into a movie star. I would perform magical, musical water revues in the style of Esther Williams. I barely had the ability to do a front flip off of our stiff little diving board, but I was a bathing beauty. I would twirl beneath the surface, enveloped in millions of tiny, sparkly bubbles. When I surfaced, I would kick my legs high into the air and smile at my adoring fans, which were nothing more than the slats in our wooden fence. I glided across the water like a graceful mermaid and splashed little droplets of water so they glittered like diamonds.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
And Now the Holidays Are Here
Hey. I've learned an important life lesson here recently, so listen up! There is nothing, and I mean nothing like
spending 6 weeks in and out of doctors' offices, medical clinics, and
hospitals to make you feel like a wretched, horrible, incompetent excuse
for a mother.
I speak from experience.
I reallylove dislike
hate sitting in that tiny little room on a hard chair, that you KNOW is
covered in germs and upon which some kid probably puked at some point,
while your under-sized, malnourished child sits on butcher paper in an
exam gown. The best part is when the doctor asks you questions, to which
you can only stare blankly because you have no idea what the answer is.
I mean, YOU'RE the doctor. Why do you think we're here? If I could answer these questions myself, I would be down at Menchie's having frozen yogurt.
What are his bowel habits? (Side note: doctors love to talk about poop).
How would I know? I haven't looked at his poop since I potty trained this kid.
Does he use his inhalers every day?
He needs inhalers? And he needs more than one?
Did you know he has extreme tenderness at all the insertion points of his tendons and ligaments?
Actually, I did know that, thanks to our AT-HOME MRI scanner.
He needs to eat more.
Duh.
As of today, we have made it almost an entire week without any illness whatsoever from the 10-year-old. THIS is a major milestone, because it's been about two months since he first got sick. The list of ailments, -itises, and -osises is long. And he has a mild case of asthma. Who knew? Certainly not THIS mother.
The good news is, after every medical visit, we walked away with a stack of papers telling us how to whip this kid back into shape. So, you know, I finally have an owner's manual.
Beyond spending practically every minute either taking care of a sick child, juggling doctor's appointments, or fighting strep throat myself, I have also had clients to juggle, articles to write, a conference to plan, the rest of my family to take care of, and a house to maintain; most of which happened while my husband was out of town. Doesn't that remind you of the line from The Princess Bride? "I've got my country's 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to prepare for, my wife to murder, and Gilder to blame for it. I'm swamped."
And then Count Rueger says, "Get some rest. If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything."
I love that movie. Needless to say, I'm swamped. There is something to be said for stress. At the beginning of November, I bought tickets to take my daughter to a performance of The Forgotten Carols. I remembered that fact the morning after we were supposed to go. So yes, my batteries are drained. So if you haven't heard from me in a while, it's because I'm recharging. The holidays are here and Ihave to be want to be pleasant. So I'm going to get some rest now, because if I I haven't got my health, I haven't got anything.
I speak from experience.
I really
What are his bowel habits? (Side note: doctors love to talk about poop).
How would I know? I haven't looked at his poop since I potty trained this kid.
Does he use his inhalers every day?
He needs inhalers? And he needs more than one?
Did you know he has extreme tenderness at all the insertion points of his tendons and ligaments?
Actually, I did know that, thanks to our AT-HOME MRI scanner.
He needs to eat more.
Duh.
As of today, we have made it almost an entire week without any illness whatsoever from the 10-year-old. THIS is a major milestone, because it's been about two months since he first got sick. The list of ailments, -itises, and -osises is long. And he has a mild case of asthma. Who knew? Certainly not THIS mother.
The good news is, after every medical visit, we walked away with a stack of papers telling us how to whip this kid back into shape. So, you know, I finally have an owner's manual.
Beyond spending practically every minute either taking care of a sick child, juggling doctor's appointments, or fighting strep throat myself, I have also had clients to juggle, articles to write, a conference to plan, the rest of my family to take care of, and a house to maintain; most of which happened while my husband was out of town. Doesn't that remind you of the line from The Princess Bride? "I've got my country's 500th anniversary to plan, my wedding to prepare for, my wife to murder, and Gilder to blame for it. I'm swamped."
And then Count Rueger says, "Get some rest. If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything."
I love that movie. Needless to say, I'm swamped. There is something to be said for stress. At the beginning of November, I bought tickets to take my daughter to a performance of The Forgotten Carols. I remembered that fact the morning after we were supposed to go. So yes, my batteries are drained. So if you haven't heard from me in a while, it's because I'm recharging. The holidays are here and I
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Tuesday With Malcolm
On FaceBook, I've been participating in the 30 Days of Thanks. It's kind of fun for me to think of something I'm grateful for each day and then share it with my friends. I should probably do it more often.
Last night, I got a much-needed night out. Dan and I took a drive down the canyon to Salt Lake City, where we met up with Chris and Kim. Just as I was backing the car into the parking stall, I looked over and noticed some friends of ours also parking their car. We all had tickets to go listen to Malcolm Gladwell speak at Abravanel Hall. So the six of us went out for some delicious authentic Italian pizza. If I could remember the name of the place, I would tell you. But it was so good that I will definitely be going back and I'll remember the name of the place then. My pizza had kalamata olives, artichoke hearts, and prosciutto on it. THAT I remember.
After dinner, we all walked over to Abravanel. Fortunately for us, we were able to cut through the convention center and stay warm! We went to pick up our tickets at Will Call, and while we waited in line, Ann Romney and her son got in line next to us. She looked right at me and smiled. How cool is that?
Malcolm Gladwell is one of my favorite non-fiction authors. I think he's on that list for a lot of people. It was so intriguing to listen to him speak. He told the story of larger-than-life (though only 4'11") Alva Vanderbilt, a wealthy New York socialite who ended up being a major figure in the women's suffrage movement. He used words like opulent and festooned and dictatorial and goldenrod. Don't you just love words? Gladwell is the best at weaving a true story into something of grandeur.
At the end, he talked a little about his new book, and mentioned that the last two chapters are about faith. "The miracle for me," he said, "was that in writing this book, I found my faith again." He went on: "I was raised in a Christian home, and I strayed from it. And in writing this book, I realized I was missing out on something." There was a palpable silence in the hall. He mentioned the story of a woman who was able to forgive a man who raped and murdered her daughter. "I think faith allows people to do extraordinary things they would otherwise not be capable of."
And so today, I am thankful for faith. Yes, it allows me, an ordinary person, to do things I would not otherwise be capable of. It allows me to look and see and feel and stretch and reach beyond myself. It guides many of my decisions; especially the important ones in life. It comforts me when I'm feeling lost and confused. It offers me reassurance that there is something bigger, more knowledgeable, more powerful than I can begin to imagine, guiding me along, ensuring that the right people and blessings cross my path just when I need it. And something I've learned: faith is like a muscle. The more you exercise it, the stronger it gets.
Malcolm Gladwell said that at Alva Vanderbilt's funeral, her casket was carried by 20 female pall bearers. Three songs were sung, the last of which was written by Alva, herself. I don't remember the exact words, but being a feminist, they spoke of how no man, not St. Peter himself, would have a say as to whether or not she got into Heaven. Instead, the angels would herald her arrival by shouting, "Here comes a Daughter of The King."
Faith tells me I am a daughter of The King. And THAT is extraodinary.
Last night, I got a much-needed night out. Dan and I took a drive down the canyon to Salt Lake City, where we met up with Chris and Kim. Just as I was backing the car into the parking stall, I looked over and noticed some friends of ours also parking their car. We all had tickets to go listen to Malcolm Gladwell speak at Abravanel Hall. So the six of us went out for some delicious authentic Italian pizza. If I could remember the name of the place, I would tell you. But it was so good that I will definitely be going back and I'll remember the name of the place then. My pizza had kalamata olives, artichoke hearts, and prosciutto on it. THAT I remember.
After dinner, we all walked over to Abravanel. Fortunately for us, we were able to cut through the convention center and stay warm! We went to pick up our tickets at Will Call, and while we waited in line, Ann Romney and her son got in line next to us. She looked right at me and smiled. How cool is that?
Malcolm Gladwell is one of my favorite non-fiction authors. I think he's on that list for a lot of people. It was so intriguing to listen to him speak. He told the story of larger-than-life (though only 4'11") Alva Vanderbilt, a wealthy New York socialite who ended up being a major figure in the women's suffrage movement. He used words like opulent and festooned and dictatorial and goldenrod. Don't you just love words? Gladwell is the best at weaving a true story into something of grandeur.
At the end, he talked a little about his new book, and mentioned that the last two chapters are about faith. "The miracle for me," he said, "was that in writing this book, I found my faith again." He went on: "I was raised in a Christian home, and I strayed from it. And in writing this book, I realized I was missing out on something." There was a palpable silence in the hall. He mentioned the story of a woman who was able to forgive a man who raped and murdered her daughter. "I think faith allows people to do extraordinary things they would otherwise not be capable of."
And so today, I am thankful for faith. Yes, it allows me, an ordinary person, to do things I would not otherwise be capable of. It allows me to look and see and feel and stretch and reach beyond myself. It guides many of my decisions; especially the important ones in life. It comforts me when I'm feeling lost and confused. It offers me reassurance that there is something bigger, more knowledgeable, more powerful than I can begin to imagine, guiding me along, ensuring that the right people and blessings cross my path just when I need it. And something I've learned: faith is like a muscle. The more you exercise it, the stronger it gets.
Malcolm Gladwell said that at Alva Vanderbilt's funeral, her casket was carried by 20 female pall bearers. Three songs were sung, the last of which was written by Alva, herself. I don't remember the exact words, but being a feminist, they spoke of how no man, not St. Peter himself, would have a say as to whether or not she got into Heaven. Instead, the angels would herald her arrival by shouting, "Here comes a Daughter of The King."
Faith tells me I am a daughter of The King. And THAT is extraodinary.
Monday, October 28, 2013
I Am a Grumpy Old Man
My dear friend Martha e-mailed me the other day and said she is entering her curmudgeon years. She is taking the anti-drug slogan from our childhood and just saying "no" to anyone in her path. I think it has less to do with being a curmudgeon and more to do with being a bit wiser than we were twenty years ago.
I, on the other hand, am a grumpy old man. I have a sick kid - sick without answers - and it is making me grumpy. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make him all better. Instead, I boil beneath the surface when the doctor says everything is normal. You can take one look at him and see that he is most definitely NOT normal.
Also, the wind has been howling since last night and I want to howl right back. Instead, I stare out the window with a hot cup of tea and mourn the loss of each red leaf as it shakes and then falls from the pear tree out front. Everyone keeps talking about this beautiful fall weather we're having. If you have to wear socks, the weather ain't beautiful.
I think I am going to take a cue from Martha and just say "no." No to winter. No to sickness. No to doctors.
Hawaii, anyone?
I, on the other hand, am a grumpy old man. I have a sick kid - sick without answers - and it is making me grumpy. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make him all better. Instead, I boil beneath the surface when the doctor says everything is normal. You can take one look at him and see that he is most definitely NOT normal.
Also, the wind has been howling since last night and I want to howl right back. Instead, I stare out the window with a hot cup of tea and mourn the loss of each red leaf as it shakes and then falls from the pear tree out front. Everyone keeps talking about this beautiful fall weather we're having. If you have to wear socks, the weather ain't beautiful.
I think I am going to take a cue from Martha and just say "no." No to winter. No to sickness. No to doctors.
Hawaii, anyone?
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Who Says Customer Service is Dead?
Yesterday, the husband and I stopped by our local hardware store for some weatherstripping. This place is pretty cool. It's really old rustic inside and they sell just about everything you can imagine. It's like a modern-day general store. If you're lucky and show up at the right time, one of the owners will spew a wealth of knowledge about whatever it is you're looking for. If you're not so lucky, one of the high school kids will help you.
We got one of the high school kids.
He took us to the weatherstripping aisle, where as you might guess, you can find every type of weatherstripping known to man. I picked up a package that looked like it might fit our needs. We discussed it for a minute and then Dan asked our "helper" a question. After a long pause, he said, "What? Sorry, I zoned out there for a minute."
Perhaps we'll have better luck next time.
We got one of the high school kids.
He took us to the weatherstripping aisle, where as you might guess, you can find every type of weatherstripping known to man. I picked up a package that looked like it might fit our needs. We discussed it for a minute and then Dan asked our "helper" a question. After a long pause, he said, "What? Sorry, I zoned out there for a minute."
Perhaps we'll have better luck next time.
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