To cover or not to cover? That is the question

I'll bet you didn't know that just by living here in Wisconsin, my tushie has obviously passed the clean booty test.  Hahaha! Take THAT you Californians!!!!!

Moving to a new city, a new state, somewhere where you've never even visited is always laced with challenges. Along with the usual learning how to get around--where we live there are many back roads with weird names like "BB" and "KE" that aren't really names at all. It can get very confusing and it's easy to get lost. Many addresses like mine aren't even found on your GPS so don't give me that, "just use your GPS" b/s.  Every American city has its cultural mores and even though we all speak the same language, well, different accents are hard to get used to just like certain traditions they may have. Here in Wisconsin, the big things here are Friday night fish fry (bleh! double bleh! explains the obesity factor), deer hunting (you know how I feel about that already) and the Packers. But one of the hardest things I've had getting used to living here is the lack of toilet paper covers in public restrooms.

I am really bothered by this! What is it about Wisconsin tushies anyway? Are they cleaner than California butts? Now I've lived here a little more than a year now, and I can't find a restaurant or store whose bathrooms offer toilet seat covers. I'm appalled by this, and frankly tired of making my own little covers with those flimsy single-ply strips of cheap toilet paper that stick to your bottom when you stand up.  I'm appalled every time a woman goes in and out of a stall without doing likewise. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE PEOPLE?!

Now I haven't done any research on the subject of toilet seats and germs, and frankly I don't see the need to. It's obvious. Have you ever gone into a stall and seen blood or urine on the seat? I know, that's disgusting. It's not as uncommon as one might think. (Major wake-up call to you lucky men out there who get to stand!) So what does a person do in this situation? Usually clean it up yourself with toilet paper if you're in one of those situations where you stood in line for that stall with a full bladder during halftime at a Packer game. If you're lucky and the bathroom's not busy, you just groan with disgust and go into another stall. Thank GOD someone else gets paid to clean up these things.

What about the stuff on that toilet seat you CAN'T see? And don't tell me stuff isn't there. This is NOT rockets science here folks. I don't need a microscope and a laboratory to tell me the person who sat here before me is a complete stranger and God only knows where their rear end has been. A public restroom isn't my home! I am completely aware of where my children's and husband's butts have been so I don't mind sharing toilet seats with them. And I'm pretty aware of how often they get cleaned at home (No, I don't have a worker who comes in every hour and marks a little checkmark on the back of the door--but it's good enough for me). We also keep a canister of those handy disinfecting wipes so if something, um, spills, that person can clean it up nice and discreetly.

Now I haven't travelled much, and the only other place I've ever been that is also a highly industrialized nation that doesn't use toilet seat covers is New Zealand. It freaked me out there too. That was the first time I had to face the fact that the seat covers weren't offered anywhere at all except the airport. Same with Milwaukee's airport. I guess the people in charge at the airports somehow mutually agreed that all those traveler's hindquarters couldn't be trusted to be as clean as they needed to be. If people actually passed the aiport bathroom safety test and went on to visit outside establishments such as restaurants and stores, toilet seat covers weren't going to be necessary. Hmmm! Interesting. Their tushies are considered unsanitary at the airport, but once outside the airport, they are acceptably clean enough. I wonder if this discrepancy ever crossed anoyone's minds?

Well, it's crossed mine, and I'm very disturbed by this. I'm not even a germaphobe--I consider myself to be your every day run-of-the-mill conscientious person but this situation has gotten out of control. It's totally contradictory in that bathrooms have really started to play into the whole germaphobe mindset with all the faucets and towel racks that turn on automatically without touching anything. I know hands are just about the grossest thing out there in the world, we are always touching our noses and faces and doorknobs and all that. Yes, I get that. But what about our derierres? You mean to tell me they're cleaner than our hands?? EW!! Maybe cleaner, but CLEAN?!

And don't even get me going about all those horror stories about countries who don't even provide toilet paper. I'm ahead of you on that one. I will either never visit them or if I do, go armed and ready with a complete supply of everything I'll need when I'm in those compromising situations.

I've actually asked workers in various places why they don't supply toilet seat covers. I get the same dumb blank stare every time. "Uh, I don't know" is the usual answer. If I'm feeling Andy-Rooney-like, and I often do feel Andy-Rooney-like, I'll poke further and say something like, "Did it ever occur to you that toilet seat covers are provided in other states?" (I'm careful not to admit I'm from California because, well, Wisconsinites don't think very highly of us California folk and I'm not willing to provide fuel for their fire).  I'll get another blank stare and a response like, "uh, no, I didn't know that." And if I'm feeling VERY Andy-Rooney-like, I'll poke further and say something like, "Have you ever thought about how ironic it is that their are seat covers in the airport bathrooms but not everywhere else?" It's just this fun thing I do. My life is very exciting.

I think the bidet people get it. We are soul mates. Whoever dreamed up the bidet is my hero. Why aren't THEY standard in public restrooms? Ah, of course, they're expensive. I heard that argument. I actually got my first blast of cold water on my girl parts at an Asian restaurant in Fresno. (My Reedley/Fresno fans reading this are nodding their heads--you know which one I'm talking about!) and it was a fun experience. On my birthday one year, a group of my girlfriends and I went there for dinner and got a little tipsy and took turns going into the one stall that had the bidet just for the fun of it. We howled every time it got real quiet, then we heard the whooshing sound and the giggling "OOOO!" that followed. How fun! We got our business done and bathed at the same time! No germs, no cut-out paper that usually falls into the toilet on the first try and no little strips of paper stuck to our legs!! Yay!!!

I know I'm not alone here. I'm curious to hear your views people. And remember, I took an airplane here when I moved from California, I didn't drive and stop in 10 states along the way. Sometimes I wish I had; I'd know whose got the clean tushies around American and who doesn't.

California, I'm embarrassed now. What can I say? I try to defend you as self-righteously as I can. But I guess our bottoms just don't measure up to Wisconsin's. I feel defeated.

But like you won't be hearing me say, "you betcha" or shooting deer anytime soon, I will not abandon my self-made toilet seat covers. If it makes me different, I'm ok with that.

In my next life, I want to come back as a man.

But Wisconsinites, I just gotta ask ya---where's YOUR butt been today??

"Just Do It" and other silly notions about resolutions

Happy New Year! Welcome 2012! Fresh slate; a brand-new year has begun. The annual tradition of resolution-making is well under way for many people. I've had the same resolution year after year after year, that still hasn't been crossed off my to-do list. I can't tell you what it is because you will tell me, "Just Do It", like the Nike slogan. Yeah, yeah, yeah, if it were that easy, I'd have done it by now. And that's the thing about resolutions--we make hard ones we are unlikely to keep.

What if we were to make resolutions like my friend revealed to me the other night: "eat less pasta." Now that's one she can probably accomplish with little self-injury. How about a resolution to "watch more TV"? If you're someone like me who can never stop moving, this is actually an improvement to my quality of life. My children rarely see me in other than upright and erect, fastly moving like a vacuum cleaner. How about, "I resolve to step over toys, dirty clothes and other clutter without cussing." That would be a good one for me. I could possibly do this. (We could also make a resolution to pick up after ourselves so I wouldn't have to even make that cussing resolution in the first place, but I'm just as much a slob as my children are. Tim is excluded from this. Poor guy is the neatnik in the family. His resolution would probably be similar--step over clutter, refrain from cussing, and refrain from picking up after us once again). 

Here's another resolution I bet most people could make and keep--"Text people back ASAP." It's frustrating to write people and they don't respond. FOR DAYS. Now notice I didn't say anything about phone calls. That's a trickier one. Phone calls interrupt more and I know for a fact that I can't just call someone and talk for 10 minutes; it's like going into Target and not spending at least a hundred dollars. I know I can't do it, so I have to just not go to Target. Same with phone calls. But texting is quicker and less intrusive. You write me a sentence, I write you back a sentence. See how easy that is? That took a total of one minute. I can text you when I'm in the bathroom but I can't call you from there. If you're stuck in the 20th century and don't text at all, well, that's one less resolution you'll have to make but you're getting left out of the loop.

We make ourselves promises to improve our lives, our bodies, our mental health, and the quality of life for those around us. I won't use this blog to wag my finger is anybody's face and make you feel badly if you fall off your resolution band wagon. I'm just as guilty as the next guy. But we CAN give ourselves a pat on the back for the resolutions we have kept, or will be trying to keep as the newness of the new year fades. 

I'm happy to say that I don't have to make any more resolutions to lose weight or get in shape. DONE! I am very proud of that. Are there other things I need to work on? But of course silly! I could probably make a list of 20 things I could do to improve my life and the lives of my loved ones. We all have daily struggles and challenges and you don't need me to remind you about dealing with vices, financial planning, communicating better, eating healthier, yada yada yada. That's called "life". Our pursuit of happiness is laden with trying to balance work and pleasure. Maturing is the thing that spurs us to first admit areas of our lives that aren't working for us, and conquering the immediate gratifications that got us into trouble in the first place.

I'm inspired by the words written, not spoken, by Roger Ebert, who due to a lengthy battle with cancer had his lower jaw removed has permanently lost his ability to eat, drink, and talk forever and "speaks" through a computer-generated voice named "Alex"--

We all know people who have been challenged by physical circumstance (my cousin Brian Hayden, for one--please read his blog www.brianhayden.com). I have been very fortunate in my life SO FAR and I am humbled by people like Brian and Roger, and my close friend Inka and now a new friend who also has had to make very difficult life decisions due to having been diagnosed with breast cancer. 

So spring forth my friends into 2012 with (hopefully!!!) an optimistic outlook that only YOU can make 2012 better for you. It's true that the only person you can change is you; and that you can only control HOW you react to the things that happen TO you; you can't control anyone or anything else. But that doesn't make you powerless. You can accomplish much if you just set your mind to it.

I'm rooting for you.

http://www.esquire.com/features/roger-ebert-0310-4

http://brianhayden.com/
http://www.43things.com/resolutions/trends

The Newsletter that caused my insanity is here!

Dear Readers,

Thank you for your requests that I publish it here. Hope you enjoy!

Love,

Lauren

                                                               *****************

                                                     Merry Christmas from the Kuckelman’s

As I sit down to write this holiday letter, I have to say, ‘I’m so proud of the four of us!”. This is our 2nd Christmas in Wisconsin. We picked up and moved 1800 miles away from family and friends to a “frozen tundra” where we knew not a single soul. So much has changed in one year.

Ian turned 16 in May and got his driver’s license in July! He is driving Tim’s old Honda Civic and he loves his independence.  Mom doesn’t have to drive him around anymore :(  He spent summer with his friends boating on the lake and working!  Ian got his first job! He’s a line-server at Q’doba, a Mexican fast food restaurant where he combines his love of money and available food. He spends his money on nutritional supplements, guitar strings and on his girlfriend. Ian became both a high school junior and a college freshman! He is enrolled at Carroll University taking Calculus 3 with mostly college sophomores and juniors. It’s his favorite class, and his “easiest”. Go figure. He’s still working out at the gym and has joined the weightlifting team at school. He had his first competition this week and placed 3rd overall out of 15 weightlifters in his division!! He can also bounce his pecs up and down and make us all laugh. Ian’s just a great kid and a complete joy to be around.

His little sister Jennifer is a 7th grader this year and turning into quite a lovely young lady. She is self-assured and happy, and is quite a social butterfly. She and her “posse” of girlfriends have sleepovers and make horrendous messes in the kitchen they call “baking”. They are an adorable group of friends and they are all so fun to be around. Jennifer is taking guitar as well. Three guitarists now in the family! She loves music and she has tried to teach me to “Dougie”  to the new Dubstep music trend. It’s not pretty. She’s attending school dances and loves her school. She likes how they all have lockers and the kids decorate them for each other’s birthdays. Jennifer still rides her beloved Poetry, who’s boarded about a mile away. She’s very much interested in fashion and design and she makes clothes by hand for her Barbies. Jennifer herself looks more beautiful than any model the way she tastefully wears her make-up and clothes, and all her friends let her do make-overs on them! She is a happy-go-lucky girl, a free-spirit and she is absolutely a joy to be around.

Tim has been Vice President of E-Commerce at Kohl’s now for one year, and we are so proud of him. We also love all the sales at Kohl’s and make sure we support him by shopping there as often as possible. He travels a lot to his warehouses during the week but we almost always have him home on weekends. Tim’s favorite things to do are making big breakfasts for the kids and their friends on Saturdays. We celebrated our 20th year since we met and our 18th wedding anniversary in April. We are still crazy about each other and love being home with the kids. For fun, we are in a band together--Tim rocks the guitar and sings, and I sing, and we love performing with our band, Rok Kandi. It’s something fun we get to do together; practicing and learning new songs. We also try to play tennis together on Sundays.

Like Ian, I got a job too! I started working in March as a part-time bartender at the gym we go to. It was my saving grace, as I finally started to make friends. I love my job as I get paid to talk to people. Perfect, huh?! I love weightlifting almost as much as Ian and I also started tennis lessons in summer. I have become addicted and play in a women’s league. I’ve been taking private vocal lessons for a year now, and my vocal coach has become a dear friend as well.  I’m also still the nutty animal girl who loves to feed the squirrels and chipmunks and cardinals. Tim calls their food “bait” for the cats.

We have adjusted to the weird weather here--summer is warm but not hot like Reedley was (much to Ian’s dismay) and there are a lot of thunderstorms. We like those. We all got to experience our very first blizzard in February and the kids got a snow day off from school--their very first! Wisconsin has become home for us now, especially since some very special family and friends have come to visit us--Randy, Inka and her twin daughters; and Tim’s mom Carolyn has come twice and she and Don are planning a trip soon. We love being near them and family in Kansas and have made the 10-hour drive twice.  It was great seeing everyone at Don’s 80th birthday party in August! Next--make a trip to Texas to see new grand-nephew baby Graham! With Ian driving now, Tim and I like to sit in the back seat. We have a beautiful guest room -we will spoil you rotten--just ask Inka- so please come see us!! We flew back to California last December to see my family and our friends. We miss so many dear friends and family in California and Kansas. We wish you all a happy healthy holiday season. We feel very blessed and are very grateful to have each and every one of you who is holding this newsletter in our lives.  

Love always and God bless, 

The Kuckelman’s

P.S. We are all on Facebook! If we are not already “friends” please add us so we can better keep in touch!

Proof That I'm Insane

A miracle happened today. It's only December 14th, and I mailed my Christmas cards today! I dropped them into the box outside the post office at approximately 8:57 a.m. this morning after dropping my daughter off at school. How is this a miracle, you may be wondering??

I love the ritual of Christmas cards. Ever since I was a kid; my parents used to get tons of Christmas cards every year when my dad still worked for the Herald Examiner. Back then, cards were more glamourous than they are today. They were mini works of art; beautiful Christmas landscapes filled with snow, beautifully decorated homes, all resounding with the peace and love of home and family. My mom would tape each one up just tilted every-so-slightly, equi-distant apart from one another, displayed on the coat closet door--in the living room--the first place you'd see it when you entered the room. I wasn't big enough to reach the top cards, but from my small stature I'd revel in the beauty of them as they glimmered in the light. I didn't recognize any of the names of course; I had no idea who any of these people were that were sending all these beautiful cards. I wanted to meet them. They were secret, magical mystical people my dad worked with at his secret, magical, mystical desk in some building somewhere in Los Angeles. It was all very exciting to a small child like me.

Is it any wonder I am just like my mother now with the whole Christmas card business?? I have taken over where she's left off. My parents have been retired for some time; the lovely Christmas cards they used to receive trickled off when my dad was laid off in 1975. In her hurt and dismay, my mother retorted that if they had been "real friends" the cards would still be coming. I didn't know what to do with that.

So here I am, many many years later, stressing myself out trying to get my Christmas cards out before they should actually say, "Happy Easter".  It's all self-induced. I know that. I can't help myself.

I used to do individual Christmas cards, you know, the boxed kind. I felt that a person's choice of a Christmas card said a lot about them, so I took great pains to choose boxed cards that reflected my personality, or rather, our personality as a family. I didn't really care for the religious ones or the Norman Rockwell artsy kind but rather the humorous ones, poking fun at either Santa or his reindeer--you know, the kind you love to get. A card that makes you laugh. That's me. I usually bought them around Thanksgiving, eager to get started. I'd usually do the envelopes first; the boring part. Then, one by one, I'd not only write "Love and God Bless, the Kuckelman's", but I'd write a mini-biography of our year in each one. We have moved so many times, and we have family and friends strewn all over the globe, and honestly, the only communication we have with some of them is the annual Christmas card tradition. Of course I was so worried I'd turn into one of those braggy moms and yes, I admit, I am. Hey, it comes with being a parent, and I'm so lucky to say I've got the kind of kids worth bragging about. Not every parent can say that. But the newsletter is only the beginning.

Don't forget the most important missing ingredient--the ultimate Christmas family photo.

We had a ritual for about ten years, since the year Ian was born, to have a professional sitting once a year. I'd happily schedule it for the Saturday BEFORE Thanksgiving, before the onslaught. I was so proud of myself. My husband would sulk and my toddlers would throw tantrums and I'd ignore their pleas for mercy and trudge us all into the photo studio year after year. I told them, "you'll thank me someday." (still waiting). But the year we stopped was the year the photos turned out absolutely frightening--I think they started hiring unqualified temporary workers for the holidays and I was mortified. I refused to pay for them and gave them back; bawling, I instructed them to just throw them in the trash. I resisted telling them what I REALLY thought of their skills as photographers.

So it became my duty to take our OWN perfect Christmas family photo every year! This was the beginning of the digital age, and it honestly couldn't have been more perfect timing. Instead of an expensive and angry family outing, we had an inexpensive and angry family afternoon trying to capture a harmonious photo of the four of us here at home. Last year was my favorite. Having just moved to Wisconsin from a lifetime of sunny California, I fantasized about a photo of the four of us standing by snowman we'd made ourselves. The snow obliged, but no one told me that Wisconsin snow is too soft to make into snowballs let alone snowmen. All dressed up for the picture and freezing in the frigid air, we were exhausted and my family was beyond annoyed with me. I settled for a pic of the four of us standing in our backyard, snow up to our ankles, taken by a little friend of my daughter's. It was dusk, and we ended up looking more of a silhouette. You couldn't really see our faces, no matter how hard I tried to Photoshop it. It was exasperating. Once again, self-induced. I realize this.

Doing this was so tedious, my Christmas cards never went out before Christmas Eve. It just took too damn long.  Between hand-writing each and every card and the pursuit of the perfect Norman Rockwell family photo, I got wise. Not only did I start writing a newsletter about 5 years ago, this year I didn't require my family to get together for a photo. Yes, it's been sad, sad defeat for me; we can't get all four of us together for even one picture a year. This year I decided I'd scroll through all the pictures on my computer from the year and find of of the four of us and use it, like many people do. We didn't take any vacations, so none there. I was saddened to realize there was not ONE photo of all four of us taken the entire year!!! So what the hell was I going to do?!!?! MAKE A PHOTO COLLAGE, THAT'S WHAT!!!!!

There were so many good pics to choose from, I actually made 2 collages. My husband shrieked at my insanity. "You can't send out two sheets of pictures!" he scolded me. "But I can't decide which ones to delete!" I shrieked back at him. I sighed a big huge sigh, and realized that if I made the pics really small I could fit them all on one sheet!! I was so happy!! Hahaha WINNING!!!!!!!

But my perfect plan hit a snag. I had all the envelopes made out in red Sharpie (festive yes?), actual Christmas stamps (some Hanukkah ones for the Jews in my family. Perfectionist here!), custom Christmas family address labels with our likeness (leftover from last year, thankfully we didn't move again), and cute little stickers on the backs of the envelopes. I sought and sought for the perfect newsletter paper to print them on--40 sheets for about $10.  I STUPIDLY BOUGHT EXACTLY THE AMOUNT THAT I THOUGHT I'D NEED. And lo and behold, wouldn't you know, after printing 20 perfect copies, the ink started to run out and ruined about 20 of the remaining sheets I had. I was distraught of course. Ruined!!! What was I to do?? I didn't have time to go all the way back to Office Max and buy more paper and with my luck, they'd be out of them anyway. So.....I looked and looked online for free borders for paper to make my own. Sure, they'll be different from the rest I'd already printed out, but I was okay with that. As long as they were festive. No boring plain paper for this girl!!! Well guess what?? There weren't any free ones. I am too cheap to even pay a dollar. And now it's December 13th. What was I willing to do?? Time is running out. I want to get these f***ing Christmas cards mailed NOW!!!!!!!

As I drove my daughter to school, went to the gym, and thought about the newsletters that still needed to be printed on my fantasy perfectly festive paper that was expensive and unattainable, I decided to make peace with PLAIN OLD WHITE PAPER. Yes, the bane of my existence--the proof that a person has absolutely NO imagination whatsoever---plain, old, boring, white printer paper.

I've made peace with myself over this. I think about the time and money I've saved, and I've made the best of a bad situation. Even though I was armed with enough replacement ink cartridges to furnish my daughter's school to avoid precisely what ended up happening because I got distracted. The ink ran out, and sparsely inked hieiogyphic ruined Christmas newsletter paper. I relented and used plain old boring white paper for the 25 or so newsletters left just to get them done. I stand accused, tried, and convicted. I sobbed quietly while folding them with my perfect collage into my perfectly addressed envelopes. I just somehow feel like I've let them down.

I gave myself a cheerful little pep-talk about how happy my friends and family will be to receive my newsletter and photo collage, and probably won't even notice the paper isn't Christmas-y. I know, I know, many of you will open the envelope and shriek, "HER NEWSLETTER IS ON PLAIN, OLD, BORING WHITE PAPER! DOESN'T SHE HAVE ANY IMAGINATION AT ALL?? JEEZ!!' And yes, I have to live with that.

And some of you won't even get one. In the move here, I can't find my Official Christmas Card Address List. I'm sorry. I really am. I hope you'll still send me a card so I can send you one back. There's still time!!

Those of you that got the Christmas-y newsletter paper know that you got the best I had to offer. The rest of you, my condolences. I hope you can see past this omission of character and forgive me.

At least I can brag that you got it before Easter.

Why I'm agnostic--Wisconsin style

According to our local newspaper today (the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel), "there are two religions in Wisconsin--Green Bay Packers, and deer hunting." Guess that makes me agnostic.

The front page story had a picture of a hunter crouching next to the nine-point buck he'd just killed. A beautiful, large antlered male deer. It sickened me. What a thing to look at over my morning coffee. I was nauseated.

Being a California girl, born and bred for oh, 30+ some years, I had never seen a real live deer. Once, on a family reunion trip to San Antonio, Texas, we not only saw some deer but fed them. It was amazing. Up close, they are as beautiful as they looked in pictures. Sweet, dark brown eyes, long eyelashes, darling little white fluffy tails, and they are one of the most gentlest creatures on the planet. They attack nothing and fear everything.

So, when we moved here to Wisconsin and heard the stories of all the deer that lived in our area, I was very excited. I couldn't wait to see a real live deer! And lo and behold, we have had some in our backyard. One more than one occasion, we've had deer in our backyard. Deer sightings here are always preceded with insane barking by our dog, who thinks they're other dogs that have come into our yard.  (Of course we don't let him out!) The first time was the most magical--a doe (mommy deer) and her baby (fawn). The white spots on the baby were so cute. It got excited by something and started to leap into the air, bucking like a horse for no apparent reason. Other times, the deer just slowly walk through our yard, grazing on the grass and bushes, disappearing into the brush into a neighbor's yard. It's like a UFO sighting--I run and get my iPhone and take a bunch of pictures because they're usually gone in less than 30 seconds. I gasp and send the pics to my family back in California. I post them to my Facebook.

Little did I realize how much people here hate deer. Live here long enough, and you're bound to have a horror story to tell about how you either hit a deer driving or it hit you. And nearly killed you. Bambi lovers such as myself are a joke.

I'm not going to give statistics here, because I really don't give a shit what the numbers are. You can tell me all about how the deer overpopulate here and how killing them is good for them and all. One thing the good ol' Milwaukee Journal educated me on in their article today is how much money gun manufacturers and bow and arrow people make this time every year. Not to mention money made on hunting licenses, and all those really dorky camouflage outfits. It's big business.

What I really don't get is how this is first of all a sport, and second, a "family tradition", as discussed in the article. This is something families do together??? A "bonding" experience?? Killing beautiful defenseless animals?? This horrifies me.

Our family plays tennis together. Or we rent a movie from Redbox and make popcorn, or play board games. No one has to die in order for us to bond together. I really can't imagine going out and spending precious money on rifles and bullets and driving out to where we could hunt down a precious deer and shoot and kill it. And then what? Celebrate? Carry it home with us? Eat it for God's sake? Put its head up as an ornament over the pool table? How did killing become a "sport"?? Tennis is a sport. No one dies. Killing animals is not a sport. It's not a competition. The deer don't have a chance.

I was horrified when I heard a co-worker tell me he "just missed" killing a nine-point buck. I don't even know what "nine-point" means, and don't bother explaining it to me. I'm assuming it describes some sort of system where 9 is higher that 2, duh, it's probably a more rare type of deer and if you shoot one, you're more of a hero. Whoop-de-do.

I have never seen a buck. If one walked through my backyard, I sure wouldn't have the urge to grab a gun and kill it!!! I'd be marveling at its awesome antlers, and how if there was a daddy, hopefully there'd be more babies soon. I just don't have the desire to end its life.

People that I have otherwise liked have turned out to be deer hunters, and I just can't reconcile it. I wonder what kind of a person finds joy in this. I'm not being facetious. I am serious. It has made me honestly re-think some of my friendships. I just can't fathom the thought of these otherwise really nice and enjoyable people holding rifles in their hands and stalking and murdering beautiful deer.

I have often said that if I had to hunt down and kill my own meat, I'd be a vegetarian. There's no way I could look an animal in the eyes and shoot it. Unless I was literally starving, like on a desert island or something. It comes homogenized and wrapped in plastic in the store, and yes, that makes me a hypocrite but at least I'm willing to admit it. I have never killed anything for food, and if you have, that still doesn't make it something to brag about. How can killing something, whether it be a deer or quail or ducks be something to get excited about?? And the state I now reside in considers deer hunting to be a "religion"?? Wish I could just click my heels and go back to California.

Oh, and that other religion, the Packers? I do know some die-hard Packer fans. You have no idea. At this writing, they're 10-0 and they did win  the Super Bowl last year. AND it's REALLY a sport!!!

At least no one's being shot with a rifle.

An open letter to my suicidal friends--get help now!!

Dear Suicidal Friends,

It is with great empathy and a heavy heart that I write you today. I have never been in your shoes, so I will not belittle your pain as if to say, "I know how you feel." I don't know how you feel. And anyone who tries to "cheer you up" by saying, "get over it", clearly has no idea how you feel either. What I do know is, suicide is not the answer.

I realize you are in great pain and want the pain to go away.  Those of us who have not walked in your shoes cannot fathom how you feel right now. But--choosing suicide is a cowardly act. SUICIDE IS A PERMANENT SOLUTION TO A TEMPORARY PROBLEM. It's giving up on yourself.  You are basically saying, "I've tried everything to feel better, and nothing is working."

Have you tried everything you can to feel better? Have you? Do your closest friends and family truly know how you feel? I believe it's because suicidal people have a chemical imbalance. Think of it this way--how do you feel when you're in love? The whole world is rosy. The sky is bluer, the grass is greener, food tastes better, and you walk with a spring in your step. You have all those wonderful endorphins rushing through your system. I guess feeling suicidal is the flip side of that. Everything is gray, everything is harder, everything becomes a great effort. You can't just "cheer yourself up." 

Feeling the way you do is not shameful. Asking for help is not shameful. I know that you are a great friend to YOUR friends--if they came to you and said, "hey, I'm not doing so well, I may hurt myself," what would you do? You'd be there for them. You'd rush to their side, take them for coffee, hold them in your arms. You'd listen and talk and be there for them. You are there for YOUR friends, now let them be there for YOU. 

I have a friend who is suicidal and has actually attempted suicide at one point in her life. She is still not out of the woods. It scares me to think I will get a phone call like the one I got about my friend Erin, and my brother. It is a helpless feeling to know our words are ignored because of the dark cloud that obscures rational thought at a time when you need it most. Your friends are rational and can see beyond your pain. Please let them help you!!

When a friend or family member responds to your cries for help, I'm begging you to give them a chance to help you. If you died today, or tomorrow, we will blame ourselves for not being a better friend. I know you don't have the energy to deal with OUR pain, but if I can stop and make you see just for a second how loved your really are, even if you don't feel lovable, you will allow someone to hold your hand through this. 

If possible, take a walk. Get outdoors. Bundle up if you have to, and just talk a slow walk. Take deep breaths and really take in the scenery around you. Listen to the birds. Listen to the cars rushing by. Listen to a train's horn. Pick up a leaf and marvel at how perfect it is. Listen to your heartbeat--the wonderful pumping of blood that is keeping you alive. You, like the leaf, like the birds, like the sky. 

are a one-of-a-kind marvelous creation. It's my hope that you will feel better, even a little bit. You know why? You will get those endorphins going, and we need all the feel-good hormones we can get.  Or play some music that makes you feel like dancing--even if you don't feel like dancing. I truly believe music can help. 

I'm a runner. I started running when my BFF found out she had Stage 4 breast cancer. I ran because she couldn't. I felt guilty I was healthy and she was sick. I found myself crying as I began my run, thinking about how she was getting chemo while I was out in the sunshine. By the time I got home, I had cried it all out and was ready to call her and be a good friend. This went on for months. She is cancer-free now, and I'm still running. Getting outside in the fresh air helps me. Maybe it'll help you.

There are more laughs to be had, more love to be in your life, if you let it. Please choose life, and get help. Call a friend, go to the hospital, call a hotline. We all want you to be around as long as possible, and we want you to be happy. You CAN get there. Lean on someone you trust, even if it's a stranger. Because we care. Please call someone today. 

If you, or someone you know, is in suicidal crisis or emotional distress please call 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

I love you,

Lauren

P.S. Some websites to turn to:

http://www.experienceproject.com/groups/Have-Attempted-Suicide/32285

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/GetHelp/

http://www.save.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=home.viewPage&page_id=1

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What can I do to help someone who is suicidal? Take it seriously. Myth: “The people who talk about it don't do it.” Studies have found that more than 75% of all completed suicides did things in the few weeks or months prior to their deaths to indicate to others that they were in deep despair. Anyone expressing suicidal feelings needs immediate attention. Myth: “Anyone who tries to kill himself has got to be crazy.” Perhaps 10% of all suicidal people are psychotic or have delusional beliefs about reality. Most suicidal people suffer from the recognized mental illness of depression; but many depressed people adequately manage their daily affairs. The absence of “craziness” does not mean the absence of suicide risk. “Those problems weren't enough to commit suicide over,” is often said by people who knew a completed suicide. You cannot assume that because you feel something is not worth being suicidal about, that the person you are with feels the same way. It is not how bad the problem is, but how badly it's hurting the person who has it. Remember: suicidal behavior is a cry for help. Myth: “If a someone is going to kill himself, nothing can stop him.” The fact that a person is still alive is sufficient proof that part of him wants to remain alive. The suicidal person is ambivalent - part of him wants to live and part of him wants not so much death as he wants the pain to end. It is the part that wants to live that tells another “I feel suicidal.” If a suicidal person turns to you it is likely that he believes that you are more caring, more informed about coping with misfortune, and more willing to protect his confidentiality. No matter how negative the manner and content of his talk, he is doing a positive thing and has a positive view of you. Be willing to give and get help sooner rather than later. Suicide prevention is not a last minute activity. All textbooks on depression say it should be reached as soon as possible. Unfortunately, suicidal people are afraid that trying to get help may bring them more pain: being told they are stupid, foolish, sinful, or manipulative; rejection; punishment; suspension from school or job; written records of their condition; or involuntary commitment. You need to do everything you can to reduce pain, rather than increase or prolong it. Constructively involving yourself on the side of life as early as possible will reduce the risk of suicide. Listen.Give the person every opportunity to unburden his troubles and ventilate his feelings. You don't need to say much and there are no magic words. If you are concerned, your voice and manner will show it. Give him relief from being alone with his pain; let him know you are glad he turned to you. Patience, sympathy, acceptance. Avoid arguments and advice giving. ASK: “Are you having thoughts of suicide?” Myth: “Talking about it may give someone the idea.” People already have the idea; suicide is constantly in the news media. If you ask a despairing person this question you are doing a good thing for them: you are showing him that you care about him, that you take him seriously, and that you are willing to let him share his pain with you. You are giving him further opportunity to discharge pent up and painful feelings. If the person is having thoughts of suicide, find out how far along his ideation has progressed. If the person is acutely suicidal, do not leave him alone. If the means are present, try to get rid of them. Detoxify the home.  Urge professional help. Persistence and patience may be needed to seek, engage and continue with as many options as possible. In any referral situation, let the person know you care and want to maintain contact. No secrets. It is the part of the person that is afraid of more pain that says “Don't tell anyone.” It is the part that wants to stay alive that tells you about it. Respond to that part of the person and persistently seek out a mature and compassionate person with whom you can review the situation. (You can get outside help and still protect the person from pain causing breaches of privacy.) Do not try to go it alone. Get help for the person and for yourself. Distributing the anxieties and responsibilities of suicide prevention makes it easier and much more effective. From crisis to recovery. Most people have suicidal thoughts or feelings at some point in their lives; yet less than 2% of all deaths are suicides. Nearly all suicidal people suffer from conditions that will pass with time or with the assistance of a recovery program. There are hundreds of modest steps we can take to improve our response to the suicidal and to make it easier for them to seek help. Taking these modest steps can save many lives and reduce a great deal of human suffering. WARNING SIGNSConditions associated with increased risk of suicide Death or terminal illness of relative or friend. Divorce, separation, broken relationship, stress on family. Loss of health (real or imaginary). Loss of job, home, money, status, self-esteem, personal security. Alcohol or drug abuse. Depression. In the young depression may be masked by hyperactivity or acting out behavior. In the elderly it may be incorrectly attributed to the natural effects of aging. Depression that seems to quickly disappear for no apparent reason is cause for concern. The early stages of recovery from depression can be a high risk period. Recent studies have associated anxiety disorders with increased risk for attempted suicide. Emotional and behavioral changes associated with suicide Overwhelming Pain: pain that threatens to exceed the person's pain coping capacities. Suicidal feelings are often the result of longstanding problems that have been exacerbated by recent precipitating events. The precipitating factors may be new pain or the loss of pain coping resources. Hopelessness: the feeling that the pain will continue or get worse; things will never get better. Powerlessness: the feeling that one's resources for reducing pain are exhausted. Feelings of worthlessness, shame, guilt, self-hatred, “no one cares”. Fears of losing control, harming self or others. Personality becomes sad, withdrawn, tired, apathetic, anxious, irritable, or prone to angry outbursts. Declining performance in school, work, or other activities. (Occasionally the reverse: someone who volunteers for extra duties because they need to fill up their time.) Social isolation; or association with a group that has different moral standards than those of the family. Declining interest in sex, friends, or activities previously enjoyed. Neglect of personal welfare, deteriorating physical appearance. Alterations in either direction in sleeping or eating habits. (Particularly in the elderly) Self-starvation, dietary mismanagement, disobeying medical instructions. Difficult times: holidays, anniversaries, and the first week after discharge from a hospital; just before and after diagnosis of a major illness; just before and during disciplinary proceedings. Undocumented status adds to the stress of a crisis. Suicidal Behavior Previous suicide attempts, “mini-attempts”. Explicit statements of suicidal ideation or feelings. Development of suicidal plan, acquiring the means, “rehearsal” behavior, setting a time for the attempt. Self-inflicted injuries, such as cuts, burns, or head banging. Reckless behavior. (Besides suicide, other leading causes of death among young people in New York City are homicide, accidents, drug overdose, and AIDS.) Unexplained accidents among children and the elderly. Making out a will or giving away favorite possessions. Inappropriately saying goodbye. Verbal behavior that is ambiguous or indirect: “I'm going away on a real long trip.”, “You won't have to worry about me anymore.”, “I want to go to sleep and never wake up.”, “I'm so depressed, I just can't go on.”, “Does God punish suicides?”, “Voices are telling me to do bad things.”, requests for euthanasia information, inappropriate joking, stories or essays on morbid themes. A WARNING ABOUT WARNING SIGNSThe majority of the population at any one time does not have many of the warning signs and has a lower suicide risk rate. But a lower rate in a larger population is still a lot of people - and many completed suicides had only a few of the conditions listed above. In a one person to another person situation, all indications of suicidality need to be taken seriously. __________________ Fall seven times, stand up eight When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on

 

Just Because We're "Friends", Doesn't Mean We're Friends

     Someone from my past found me on Facebook.  It hasn't been pretty.  

     Twenty-three years ago, I was 27 years old. I was putting myself through college, living on my own, working three jobs to support myself. One of these jobs was a waitressing job at a small family-owned 300-bed hotel near Disneyland, in Anaheim, California. It was a tiny, 10-table cafe inside the hotel, where during the busiest shifts had only 3 waitresses working together. I met my wonderful friend Penny at this time. She and I worked together and became very close. We have not only stayed in touch through the years, but she was my maid of honor and I was her matron of honor. Although geography keeps us apart, we stay in touch through Christmas and birthdays, and now, Facebook and Twitter.

     One of our other former co-workers was a woman I'll call "Monica" whom Penny and I had worked with for a few years and we had loads of fun together. I do remember lots of fun times. Dressing up in costume for Halloween, serving lots of tourists and making fun of them, eating lots of ice cream, dealing with "CHEF", this crazy old man who ran the kitchen. That's about it. My recollections of that time are minimal. It was one of my three jobs, and I was a full-time college student, on my own, involved with a jealous and abusive man who I'd nearly forgotten about, thank you.

   I was fighting with my parents, I was trying to find out who I was. I cheated on my boyfriend to release the stranglehold he had on me. The job was a job. I had fun while I was there but it wasn't my life. I graduated college in May 1988, left behind all the drama and moved to LA to start a new life for myself. I was free and happy.

     As with all of us, a lot has obviously changed with me in those 23 years since I last saw that co-worker.

     About three weeks ago, I got a friend request from "Monica", and initially I was amused and happy to have been "found".  I thought to myself, "WOW! She looks good! Has it really been 27 years?! "   What I had remembered about her was that she was divorced, had re-married, became religious, and was older than me. That's about it. I knew she had kids but I think they were already grown when we worked together; I really don't remember.  I haven't seen nor spoken to her since 1988.

      I planned on checking out her profile and reading her wall to get to know her better after all this time, but I hadn't had a chance. In the meantime, I gathered that she was retired, had at least one adorable granddaughter, and maybe more free time than me as she was commenting a lot on things on my page. I thought it was nice and vowed to make time to respond as soon as I was able.

     Everyone has what I call "Facebook Personalities". I have one friend who posts every little thing that happens to her, including finding noodles up her kids' noses. I love her posts. I have another friend who when she's between jobs, practically lives on FB and is on 24/7 and posts constantly not just on my profile but all her friends' profiles too. It's wonderful. I also have friends who rarely post updates or comments at all. They are either too busy or not interested. I don't take it personally.

     And I like to think I'm like most people on FB---most days I check my FB primarily from my iPhone while I'm waiting to pick up my kids from school, or in the bathroom (it's true! It's quiet time for a mom). I rarely just sit there and read people's profiles, comb through their photos, or stalk them. I'm really just too involved in my own life to have much time and energy for everyone else's. I try to post things I think everyone can relate to. I do enjoy everyone's status updates--I quickly scroll through them when I get a chance and that's how I stay in touch with my friends and family who are on FB.

     (Just for the record, I'm not one of those who collects "friends"--I only add people I know and have met personally.)

      Without meaning to,  I somehow offended my long-lost friend by not responding to her comments often enough to suit her. She felt I'd snubbed her, and she de-friended me. She was irritated that she'd posted something to me about a memory she had, and I hadn't mentioned it, but rather had posted a status update about the same time something that had nothing to do with what she'd written. This led her to believe that I had "issues" and needed mental help or something like that. I was not only shocked but infuriated. And sad.

     People, if you're going to suddenly show up 23 years later in someone's life, as if dropped by a helicopter on top of a mountain to ski, think about why you want to connect with this person. Think about what is going on in their life. Maybe you want them back in your life, but why would they want you back in theirs? Do you have anything in common right now, other than you're both on Facebook?


     Maybe her friend request stirred up something in me I didn't want to deal with. I do know that everytime she posted something, I had to stop and process it more than if someone I knew better thad said it. She was always positive, it wasn't anything negative, but it was coming from a virtual stranger. I had to try to put her comments into some sort of context that was unknown to me and therefore I wasn't responding quickly enough to make her feel appreciated. I feel bad about that, but that was unintentional. Maybe I don't want to think about who I was back then, and the jerk I was dating whom you will undoubtedly bring up in conversation. Why?  Because all we have in common now is who we used to be. 

This woman and I had a marvelous working relationship 23 years ago, and we should've left it at that.

HolliandMichael SwingShoI don't know about you, but I don't have enough time for everything and everyone in my life. I've got 2 kids. 7 pets. A husband, a house, a job, a life. I just moved 1500 miles and left behind everything familiar to start over. I've got 30 boxes of stuff that still needs to be unpacked. Where's the empathy? Where's the common sense? What is this, high school? Come on, we're supposed to be grown-ups. When we give expecting to get, it loses it's value. If she'd given me a chance, I'd have responded the way she wanted me to. I just couldn't do it in her time frame. How selfless is that?People, if you're going to suddenly show up 23 years later in someone's life, as if dropped by a helicopter on top of a mountain to ski, think about why you want to connect with this person. Think about what is going on in their life. Maybe you want them back in your life, but why would they want you back in theirs? Maybe I don't want to think about who I was back then, and the jerk I was dating whom you will undoubtedly bring up in conversation. Why?  Because all we have in common now is who we used to be.This woman and I had a marvelous working relationship 23 years ago, and we should've left it at that.