Disasters R Us

I have inherited many traits from my mother. Her cheekbones, her profile, her hands, the way we both run a finger over our bottom lip when we're reading.

There is one trademark, or tendency though, that I wish I had not inherited. This is my mother's ability to see doom and disaster around every corner.

I haven't yet reached my full potential yet in this regard. For example, if someone is supposed to arrive at my mother's home and they are, say, 20 minutes late, the doominator appears.

"Oh my God, what if there's been an accident? What if they're lying unconscious on the side of the road? We'd better start calling the hospitals."

The rest of us cough, ahem, and then dare to suggest that perhaps they're just stuck in traffic or running late. Only when the people themselves walk through the door will Mom be convinced they're not dead.

I laughed at my mom's doom day prophecies, until my husband pointed out I'm just as bad. To wit, we will go hiking in the mountains. The last time we were there, we reached a summit and were sitting on a rock cliff, enjoying the view. A family with a nine-year old, a five-year old, and a dog appeared behind us. The nine-year old bounced (as 9-year olds do) over to the edge. "Cool!" he exclaimed. His dad was right behind him, hand on his shoulder, and they really weren't all that close to the edge.

That didn't stop me from being able to see, literally see, this small boy toppling over the edge to his death. Anything could happen. His foot could slip, there could be some moss, he could throw a rock too hard and hurl himself accidentally over the edge on the follow-through to his throw. Dear God, why, WHY wasn't the Dad moving him back from the edge??? What was the matter with these people?!

My husband glanced over at me. "He'll be fine," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "His dad's with him. Stop holding your breath."

I gave a big exhale. Then froze in terror. The dog (no puppy, no!) was sniffing around the rock. He was a small dog and there were falcons out. What if one grabbed him? Or what if a squirrel appeared and the dog raced after it, only to realize too late that the cliff ran out? Then the family was going to have to watch their beloved white puppy go splat. Nice.

"I'm calling the humane society," I mutter.

My husband raised his eyebrows. "To report what? The nice family that included their dog on their family outing?"

"No," I said through clenched teeth. "To report their blatant disregard for the well-being of their dog." We both looked at the dog. He was sniffing a butterfly on a rock and looked very happy.

"He looks very happy to me," said my husband.

"Sure, he's fine now," I countered. "But wait until that butterfly takes off and the force of its wings beating blow the puppy off the cliff."

"Right," said my husband, gathering our things. "Time to go."

My mom and I feed off each other. When I called to tell her about the snarling thing in the wall, her first comment was, "Uh-oh. Are you sure one of your cats didn't get in there with it?" Now, bear in mind our home is completely plastered and the inner walls sealed off. There is no way one of our cats could get inside the walls. But that didn't stop me from conducting a frantic search of the house, panting and terrified until I located both cats napping in the sun and looking at me like I was insane when I burst upon them.

I told my husband what had happened. He looked at me and asked, "Well what did you expect? Why in the world would you tell your mother there is some creature in our walls? You're lucky you didn't kill her with that information."

Maybe so. But it's comforting to know there is one other person out there who not only is as crazy as I am, but who made me the nut case I am today.

I love you, Mom.

Have to vs. Want to

I've been thinking about the natural rhythms of life and how we work against them.

For example, I wake up naturally at 7am. Doesn't matter if I went to bed at 9:30 pm or 4 am the the night before, that's what time I wake up naturally with no alarms (or cats on top of me, meowing to be fed).

But I don't allow myself to sleep in until 7. It feels wasteful. While I am not naturally an early riser--I bump into walls for the first 30 minutes I'm up--I do like being up early because I get so much done. I can eat breakfast, work out for an hour to an hour and a half, shower, meditate, and do a load of laundry all by 8:30. When I get up at 7, I feel like I'm playing catch-up all day, trying to regain those two lost hours.

But yet, doesn't it stand to reason that if my body clock is set to 7am, that's what time I should get up?

Part of it is I just feel the need to get everything done in the morning. Morning is my best time to write, meditate, and exercise. And while I really probably should just get out of bed and start writing in the morning, exercise takes precedence. I've discovered that if I don't work out in the morning, it won't get done.

The big thing for me is I don't like having to shower and get ready twice in one day. And I'm not all that high maintenance a gal. I can start from scratch and be showered, dressed, make-up'd, and hair styled in 30 minutes. I just don't like to.

I think a lot of women feel this way. I laugh at those commercials for the YMCA or Bowflex or whatever that promise you only "20 minutes a day" to a buffer bod.

Their products may lead to low body fat ratios, but any woman knows the 20-minute thing is a joke. Once you add in changing into exercise clothes, driving to the gym, working out, driving home, and showering and dressing again, you're generally up to a good hour. Not that this is too much too ask, but let's not kid ourselves that it's just "20 minutes" out of our busy lives.

Still, I'm grateful to exercise. A couple months ago I was flipping channels and Jamie Lee Curtis was on Dr. Phil. She made a statement to the effect that she switched her vocabulary from "have to" statements to "get to" statements, and described the impact on her life. I thought it a brilliant strategy and have been using it. And for the most part, it really is motivating.

For example, if I face the treadmill and find myself thinking, "Ugh. I have to exercise," I correct myself and say, "I get to exercise." It's a subtle reminder that I'm lucky enough to 1) be physically fit enough to partake in exercise, 2) have a home gym, 3) have the time to do so 4)have the motivation to challenge myself, etc.

Same thing with work. If I find myself thinking "I have to write this article," I switch it to "I get to write this article." Again, it's a reminder that I get to spend my time doing what I love, writing.

I've found it really does make a difference in how I perceive life.

Which is somewhat off track from where I started, with natural body rhythms. I'm curious for anyone out there reading who wants to comment...do you feel like you follow your body's natural schedule rhythms, or do you, perhaps by necessity, force yourself into sleeping, eating, waking patterns that don't come naturally? What do you think the long-term effects are, if any?

And now I must leave because I GET TO go program phone numbers into my new (and as of yet, unused) cell phone.

Littering and Napoleon Dynamite

Have you seen the movie Napoleon Dynamite? We rented it the other week and were rolling. It's one of those movies you hesitate to recommend except to certain friends b/c it's just so odd. Nothing much happens in it. We weren't even sure we liked the movie until we noticed we spent the two weeks after we returned it quoting lines from it--a sure sign of a cult classic.

Here's a preview (you must say this in a high, whiny high-schoolers voice and imagine that you are speaking to a llama): "Ti-nuh! Come eat some ham!"

That's just good stuff, baby.

Okay, switching gears. I'm thinking of starting a top 10 list along the lines of "What Other People Can Do to Make The World I Live In A Better Place." Only I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a lot more than 10. But we must start someplace so here's what tops my list:

#1 - QUIT LITTERING

Is it really so difficult to locate a trashcan? Maybe it's being in a car and having trash that confuses people. Oh no. I'm in traffic and have a gum wrapper. I don't know what to do!! Better toss that wrapper out the window before I experience total brainlock!

Might I instead suggest the simple solution of an in-car trashbag emptied periodically? It ticks me off to have to drive down a highway or road riddled with discarded hamburger wrappers, Styrofoam, and scraps of paper. And for you smokers who flick your butts out the car window because you're too lazy to reach over the six inches to your car's ashtray, there's a special place in hell reserved for people like you.

To end on a cheerier note, let me say that I just love my cats. I was combing Lucy earlier and she had a big purr going, and last night little Olivia started purring when I just looked at her. How cute is that! Personally, I think there would be a whole lot less wars and killing if everyone just owned and appreciated a cat. How could you look into those big round eyes, stroke that silky fur, and rub kitty belly and then go out and do mean things? Simply not possible.

Purrs, until tomorrow.

p.s. The thing under the stairs is still with us. I hear it clawing floorboards as we speak. Please, if you're reading this, send help.

Cell Phone Plunge

We did it. Signed up today for cell phones. It's the end of an era. No longer will I feel vastly superior to those among you who can't walk from your house to the car without calling someone so you don't get bored on the 5-second trip. Now, I walk among you.

We've promised not to go overboard though. Really, we got the cell phones for two reasons. One, we live out in the boonies so it's a good idea to have a cell phone handy in case a car breaks down. That way we can report our muggers vitals to the police en progress.

The second reason is because one thing my time away showed me is that I am much more productive away from my house. This makes sense as when I'm home the laundry, cats, e-mail, exercise, food, and books are all competing for my attention. When I'm sitting in a cafe somewhere, I don't bring anything with me but my work. Therefore, it's work or stare off into space. But I do need to be accessible to clients, so having a cell phone is helpful.

I vow to maintain boundaries though. Last month I was flying home from Chicago (went to see Oprah--Hey Big O!) and once the plane landed of course everyone flipped on their cell phones. Yada, yada, yada, we just landed, yada, yada, meet me in baggage, yada yada. Typical conversations.

Except for one guy, three rows up from me. Instead, this gem of a man was facing the back of the plane, talking into his cell phone and saying, "What do you think I'm doing? You can see me plain as day."

I turned around and sure enough, he was talking to his buddy who was about five rows behind me.

Losers.

Blair asked if I was going to give my cell phone number out to family and friends. "No," I said. "Absolutely not. They don't even need to know I have a cell phone."

Then it occurred to me said family and friends may be reading this blog. Soooo.....yesss...of course I was planning on giving you my number! Never doubt it. There's nothing more I'd like than to yada-yada with you on my supercool new cell phone as soon as possible.

Can you hear me now?