Some Shallow Thoughts (For Once)

Would someone please tell me when harem/hammer pants came back? Or for that matter, stirrup pants?

I was doing some deep, soulful, introspective reading the other night – OK, it was OK Magazine and In Style, but both of these publications had features on these pants. And yes, I checked the date – both were from October, 2008.

At the risk of sounding like my idol Dennis Miller, I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but while I am on the subject of questionable fashion, when did leg warmers become acceptable outwear for non-dancers?

Don’t get me wrong - I’m all for recycling. Pucci prints, mini skirts, tasteful fringe, the remake of Knight Rider, the reunion of NKOTB, but c’mon. Harem pants? People, I wore harem pants – I looked I was wearing a diaper; it’s not a look I really think the free world needs to see again.

Let me also say that with almost 100% certainty I am not the foremost expert on fashion. The very fact that I was in a section of WalMart that has clothing should be a big clue. While I’m on the subject, if anyone wants the title of “My Favorite Person –EVER”, please feel free to submit me for an episode of What Not to Wear. Getting secret footage shouldn’t be that hard. To prove my case, I've provided a picture of me in my best Flashdance fringed t-shirt. I thought I looked hot.

Considering today is Halloween, perhaps I should root though my closet – I think I hear my old legwarmers calling…

By the bye, if you are talking to my mother, please don’t let her know about the stirrup pants – she’s still bitter about the fact that I made her toss her treasured stash a few years ago.

UPDATE
Just heard from mom. She read about the stirrup pants. I'm officially out of the will.

Roller Coaster Day

Yesterday was one heck of a day.

After months of talking, and concerned looks over the dining room table, we got the diagnosis that we all dreaded hearing - Grandmom has Alzheimer's. I know we as a family are not alone, but when you hear those words, you certainly feel like you are. I think the hardest part for me was hearing that she knew she had two granddaughters, but couldn't remember our names. Of course that was followed up with the fact that she not only remembered she had a great-granddaughter, but her name was bright and clear in her memory. To paraphrase Jan Brady, "Tara, Tara, Tara".

I guess if you don't find something to laugh at, you'll cry. I know this is going to be a long road for my family, and while I've been holding it together, I can't guarantee that there won't be some tears.

On a brighter, completely unrelated subject, I have to admit that the day came to a terrific end, ending Philadelphia's 25 year draught, and the Phillies 28 year draught. I casually/jokingly mentioned to my mother that I'm thinking about getting the Phillies "P" as a tattoo to commemorate. She's horrified, but I'm not quite sure I was joking.

To those of you who reached out yesterday - thank you so very much. I know I will be needing your support in the near future, and I hope that you will let me do the same for you.

Debate Time

My poor mother…I start a lot of conversations that way. Mainly when recounting my teenage years (those of you who knew me back then probably understand this), but I also say this when it comes to politics. Dad and I are at opposite ends of the political spectrum, mom is somewhere in the middle, and I’m honestly not quite sure where my sister lies. I always said K was the smart one.

So, last night, Mom, Dad and I went out to dinner, and, as usual, the conversation turned to the election, and as usual, my mother walked away saying that she will never debate politics again.

OK, so I started it by mentioning that the candidate for the party I support is looking for people to canvas this weekend (no, not mentioning names, but if you really want to know, check out the flair on my Facebook page). My father then started to defend his candidate (after first asking me to clarify who I was talking about – he still holds out hope that I’ll “convert”). Mom dove in defending her beliefs, not backing down – at one point I felt like a spectator, even though she was echoing many of my sentiments.

Deep down, I think all of us realize that we won’t sway the other’s opinion. I know it makes spectators uncomfortable, but I love that we live in a country, hell, that I come from a family, where we can disagree – the left, the right, the center and we can all walk away relatively unscathed.

I’m not going to deny that I’ve learned things by debating my father, and I am not going to deny that there are some things that Dad believes in that really tick me off. But the fact that he holds true to those beliefs is part of what makes him the man who helped raised me: never back down from a fight – never give up. My parents both drilled into me to stand for something – I got my bull headedness from my father, and I like to think I got my strength from my mother. Both have helped me to become the woman that I am.

I'm just sayin'

Instead of donating the uber-expensive wardrobe purchased for Sarah Palin, wouldn't the RNC do more good by auctioning off the clothes and donating the money to deserving charities?

Baby's First Blog

I've decided to continue my random musings in an official blog (thanks for the suggestion Suzanne!).

I don't know exactly where I am going, but I hope to find out some things out about myself along the way. I got to thinking the other night about things that I've never done because I've never had the balls to do it, or have been too lazy to really put into action.

I started up a list, a life list if you will. Some things I think I can cross off, others I think will be ongoing. Some tasks that I've set for myself I hope will make me become a better person. Others are just for sake of living life.

I don't know if I'm quite ready to publish the list - then I really have to do everything on there. I hope I'll meet up with some of you along the way if you want to come along for the ride.

On another, more serious note, I was sad to read this morning that it's believed the body of Jennifer Hudson's young nephew was found. Such a senseless tragedy.

Shock and Awe

OK, maybe surprise and gratitude are more appropriate words. Over the past few days I’ve posted a few somewhat out-of-character musings to Facebook. I’ve been contacted by some folks with words of encouragement, and for that I thank you. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be interested in my babblings. I’m not sure if this is a trend or a passing phase, but I am pretty sure this is not what my therapist had in mind when she encouraged me to journal. But this feels right for me at this point in my life.

Just so you don’t think that it’s all deep thoughts and introspection, I’m not about to pull an Oprah and go “all positive, all the time”. Despite being the one planning my high school reunion, I am still thinking about seeing if Angelina Jolie can go in my place so no one sees the size of my derriere. I plan to continue reading trashy gossip magazines, and my main source of information remains Perez Hilton.

I hope to come out of this period of introspection more centered, more grounded, clear headed and confident. I want to make amends to those I’ve hurt, including myself. I hope that I have started down that road, and not just made a wrong turn. I want to learn from my mistakes. Not to be a walking cliché, but my goal is to live out loud, with no apologies, no regrets. I want to own every one of my laugh lines when I’m old and smile knowing that perhaps only I know the story behind them.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t sign off with this: Go Phils!!!!

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Scary, right? It’s right there in the phrase - scare. By nature, I try to avoid doing things that scare me, and most of the time it’s fairly easy and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that.

Do one thing every day that makes me happy? Sure – a bagel for breakfast, hang out with my niece, meet a friend for a drink. But doing the thing that scares me, could that also make me happy in the end? The other day I did something that terrified me…not it wasn’t kissing David Beckham and getting caught by Posh (although David, if you’re in town – call me), I didn’t drive blindfolded or run with scissors.

But I did it, that thing I was avoiding, and yeah, I was scared. And guess what? The world didn’t end. Just about everything is the same as it was the day before, except I am changed by it. I proved to myself that I could do something I was afraid of, was actually running from, and it actually turned out really well.

I wonder if I can do all of that other stuff I’ve been avoiding. Today I did something else that maybe didn’t scare me, but I certainly avoided. I emailed my old boss to congratulate her. I got a lovely response back. I’m not sure I would have done that a few weeks ago. An email – something so minor, I send dozens each day, but this one was different.

I don’t know if I can commit to doing something scary every day – but maybe every other day? Do one thing a week that scares me? I think I can do that.

Perspective, Changes and Turning 34

As I near my 34th birthday, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and evaluating about my life. I’ve come to recognize some pleasant and not so pleasant things about myself. Yes, I hold on to things for too long, I allow my fears to run my life, I hide behind my lack of confidence and I busy myself with everyone else’s needs. But I’ve also come to see some positives. I have my health, I have a good job, strangely enough, I'm good at accounting :), and most importantly, that I have a wonderful family and great friends.

Over the past few weeks I’ve had some wake-up calls. I was in a car accident around the beginning of the month, and cried and moaned to all who would listen about how unfair it was that I was getting hit with the liability for it, despite the fact that everyone walked away uninjured. Then I found out that the first responder was told that his cancer is out of remission. I bemoaned the cost of health insurance, and I found out an old classmate was losing his insurance despite his battle with cancer. My problems are so small.

For a while now, I’ve joked that I wanted to be known as the spinster with all of the dogs. That I’ve made peace with my life and how it is; so much in fact that I had myself believing it. Now I finally realize that this isn’t enough. I want to leave my mark. I am done with being an observer in my life and am ready to be a full participant.