Halloween was not a holiday that I looked forward to as a child. Sure, I liked to dress up; that was the part I liked. My mom made a costume for me almost every year. I wanted to be a clown more times than not, and I think my mom encouraged it because it was an easy costume to put together. My first grade year, I was a ballerina. I was kinda fat that year (I suppose from residual toddler pudge), and the pink leotard I wore made me look like a pig in a tutu. Another year, I was a hobo (again..an easy costume). I found an old Japanese Kimono of my grandfather's in a box a coupla years later. I wore it with white powder/red lipstick/hair in a bun....the whole deal. Not exactly p.c., right? I always wanted to wear the supercool costumes with the plastic masks and paperthin fabric I saw at KMart, but my mom would never buy me those.
The trick-or-treating part was okay. I liked walking door to door asking for goodies. I never managed to eat the goodies I worked so hard to attain, though. I was supposedly allergic to chocolate as a youngster (my mom made me eat carob instead), so all the really good candy was passed on to my brothers. And all the nasty chewy kinds made me gag (still do). So I was shit outta luck, as they say. Emptying my plastic jack-o-lantern was always anti-climatic unless I happened to find a flimsy spider ring or a Burger King certificate for free fries.
Everything else about Halloween made me extremely uncomfortable. I was the epitome of "wuss"....unnaturally terrified of anything meant to be even remotely scary. I would work up the nerve every year to watch the Garfield Halloween special...and that felt like a huge accomplishment to me. The only thing that was actually scary about that show was the bad animation, but it was about all I could handle. I ventured into my school's haunted house in 3rd grade (eerily constructed in the Art room under the stage in the auditorium), and it took me months to recover. Any T.V. commercial that featured spooky music freaked me out. Every snippet of clip from a cheesy horror flic sent me screaming into the other room.
Most kids saw Halloween as a time to be someone or something other than themselves....a time to experience the thrill of chill bumps and racing hearts. I just saw it as another opportunity for something REALLY horrible to finally do me in. It was inevitable. I just knew it. Sooner or later the BoogeyMan from the Ghostbusters cartoon would bust through my closet door, stomp his cloven feet over to my bed, and steal me away forever. Freddy Kruger would dare him to make it extra torturess. Of course, this monsterous fate could have come about at any time of the year, but it was MUCH more likely to occur on October 31st.
Funny thing is...I was also scared of Santa Claus.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
"WELCOME" ....to my blog
I was talking with someone the other day….don’t recall who….about what we wanted “to be” when we were kids. I always love asking people that. I think it can be very revealing about one’s childhood and what has happened on their journey to adulthood.
For many years, I was dead-set on being a Marine Biologist. I know a lot of little girls are drawn to that profession simply for the allure of swimming with smiley Bottle Nosed Dolphins on a daily basis. There was something more that appealed to me, however. I’ve always been fascinated by the ocean. Scared by it, too…but I guess that’s part of the fascination. I wanted to dive into unseen worlds and discover new species and have my own series of documentaries…just like Jacque Cousteau. I took a Marine Science class in middle school and threw myself into every assignment as if my career depended on it. I even started out in college as a Biology major…knowing that would lead me to my destiny. Funny thing was…I hated biology. And the whole idea of my future profession taking place under water was always a sham because I’ve had horrendous ear problems since babyhood that prevent me from getting ANY water in my ears; and I would never be able to dive because my eardrums can’t take the pressure. I finally accepted these facts as a freshman in college and moved on to discover other interests.
To make a VERY VERY long story short, I’m finally in a job that suits me well. But, as content as I am, I know I won’t do this forever. There are too many other things out there that I want to do before my life ends. Even though I’m “all growed up” now, I still have a mental list of dream jobs….things I want to be when I grow up even more. I realize that the likeliness of any of this occurring is equal to the likeliness that I’ll run into Orlando Bloom at Wal-Mart on the cereal aisle and marry him 3 weeks later (running away hand in hand under a confetti shower of Fruit Loops in honor of our meeting)….but it’s good to have dreams.
Here’s my list (yay!…another list!):
1. I want to own a children’s book store just like the one Meg Ryan owns in “You’ve Got Mail”. I haven’t come up with a name for it yet…but I’ve got ideas. I’ll have to move back to a big city to do this…but that’s all part of the plan.
2. Preceding, or in conjunction with, or following the above listed venture…I want to be a published author of children’s literature. I’ve started some books but never have the time (or determination) to actually finish them and do something with them. One day.
3. I want to be an ambassador for UNICEF or The International Justice Mission and travel the world making things better for children and women who don’t have the ability to change things themselves.
4. Second to ambassadorship, I’d like to work for the same type of organization as a photographer.
5. I can work at a vineyard stomping grapes for wine production. I think customers would like that. A lot.
6. Inspired by a close friend of mine in the same profession, I’d work to further establish international adoption agencies that operate with integrity and efficiency.
7. I would be a GREAT greeting card designer. I wouldn’t work for Hallmark, though…I’d have my own label. There would be lots of laughs and a minimal amount of cheese involved.
8. The San Diego Zoo may one day hire me to train Orangutans. I’ve submitted my resume already.
9. I’d be happy to work for a cosmetics company in the marketing department. Somebody has to come up with interesting names for products and lipstick colors. Origins seems to be the most creative in this area, so maybe I’ll bless them with my innovative mind.
10. I share this particular dream with a few other friends, I think….so perhaps we can do it jointly….When I’m MUCH older, I’ll buy a bed and breakfast in some beautiful location and people will travel for hundreds of miles to bask in the serene hominess…and my charm and wit.
11. I’ve saved the best for last!! What I want more than anything is to be the spokeswoman/greeter for movie theater companies. You know how, when the lights dim, an obnoxious intro sequence plays that takes you on a not-so-virtual roller coaster ride through outer space? I wanna be the lady with the cool space-like haircut whos’ head is like 15 feet wide who says in a dramatic voice, “Welcome”…and then your roller coaster zooms through her nose or wherever. Everyone knows what I’m talking about, right?? I think she’s the same chick that Six Flags uses on the “Mr.Freeze” ride that warns you repeatedly as you walk through the 3-hour-long-mazed line that the Gotham Nuclear Ice Plant is about to self-destruct. I can be inviting, ominous, and sexy all at the same time. Just listen to my outgoing voicemail message.
For many years, I was dead-set on being a Marine Biologist. I know a lot of little girls are drawn to that profession simply for the allure of swimming with smiley Bottle Nosed Dolphins on a daily basis. There was something more that appealed to me, however. I’ve always been fascinated by the ocean. Scared by it, too…but I guess that’s part of the fascination. I wanted to dive into unseen worlds and discover new species and have my own series of documentaries…just like Jacque Cousteau. I took a Marine Science class in middle school and threw myself into every assignment as if my career depended on it. I even started out in college as a Biology major…knowing that would lead me to my destiny. Funny thing was…I hated biology. And the whole idea of my future profession taking place under water was always a sham because I’ve had horrendous ear problems since babyhood that prevent me from getting ANY water in my ears; and I would never be able to dive because my eardrums can’t take the pressure. I finally accepted these facts as a freshman in college and moved on to discover other interests.
To make a VERY VERY long story short, I’m finally in a job that suits me well. But, as content as I am, I know I won’t do this forever. There are too many other things out there that I want to do before my life ends. Even though I’m “all growed up” now, I still have a mental list of dream jobs….things I want to be when I grow up even more. I realize that the likeliness of any of this occurring is equal to the likeliness that I’ll run into Orlando Bloom at Wal-Mart on the cereal aisle and marry him 3 weeks later (running away hand in hand under a confetti shower of Fruit Loops in honor of our meeting)….but it’s good to have dreams.
Here’s my list (yay!…another list!):
1. I want to own a children’s book store just like the one Meg Ryan owns in “You’ve Got Mail”. I haven’t come up with a name for it yet…but I’ve got ideas. I’ll have to move back to a big city to do this…but that’s all part of the plan.
2. Preceding, or in conjunction with, or following the above listed venture…I want to be a published author of children’s literature. I’ve started some books but never have the time (or determination) to actually finish them and do something with them. One day.
3. I want to be an ambassador for UNICEF or The International Justice Mission and travel the world making things better for children and women who don’t have the ability to change things themselves.
4. Second to ambassadorship, I’d like to work for the same type of organization as a photographer.
5. I can work at a vineyard stomping grapes for wine production. I think customers would like that. A lot.
6. Inspired by a close friend of mine in the same profession, I’d work to further establish international adoption agencies that operate with integrity and efficiency.
7. I would be a GREAT greeting card designer. I wouldn’t work for Hallmark, though…I’d have my own label. There would be lots of laughs and a minimal amount of cheese involved.
8. The San Diego Zoo may one day hire me to train Orangutans. I’ve submitted my resume already.
9. I’d be happy to work for a cosmetics company in the marketing department. Somebody has to come up with interesting names for products and lipstick colors. Origins seems to be the most creative in this area, so maybe I’ll bless them with my innovative mind.
10. I share this particular dream with a few other friends, I think….so perhaps we can do it jointly….When I’m MUCH older, I’ll buy a bed and breakfast in some beautiful location and people will travel for hundreds of miles to bask in the serene hominess…and my charm and wit.
11. I’ve saved the best for last!! What I want more than anything is to be the spokeswoman/greeter for movie theater companies. You know how, when the lights dim, an obnoxious intro sequence plays that takes you on a not-so-virtual roller coaster ride through outer space? I wanna be the lady with the cool space-like haircut whos’ head is like 15 feet wide who says in a dramatic voice, “Welcome”…and then your roller coaster zooms through her nose or wherever. Everyone knows what I’m talking about, right?? I think she’s the same chick that Six Flags uses on the “Mr.Freeze” ride that warns you repeatedly as you walk through the 3-hour-long-mazed line that the Gotham Nuclear Ice Plant is about to self-destruct. I can be inviting, ominous, and sexy all at the same time. Just listen to my outgoing voicemail message.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Release
You've been stranded in a large body of water. Doesn't matter where, exactly. It doesn't matter how. You're there. Now, let's imagine what this would feel like...
You feel cold. You feel scared. Undoubtedly, you're trying to stay afloat. Your legs are spasming in continual scissor kicks and your arms are flailing. The longer you've been out there...keeping your head above water...your body becomes increasingly wracked with pain. Your breathing is labored and your lungs are on fire.
What would be going through your head during this nightmare? Depending on what particular body of water you're in, you could be wondering if a shark or an alligator is stalking you from below...waiting to make you his lunch. You would probably be thinking about loved ones and praying that you'll see them again. Maybe unfinished business would be on your mind...all the things you haven't accomplished back on dry land. But I'm pretty positive (hypothetically, of course) that your main focus would be on NOT DROWNING. What greater fear could there be than that?
From the time you found yourself alone and floating, your life has been nothing but an effort to survive. Every kick of the leg and every heavy breath has been birthed (either conciously or subconciously) to avoid, or at least to delay, the feared end of drowning. To stop trying would be to be to die. Over and over and over, you forsee your muscles stiffening and your lungs filling up with water; and you imagine how excruciating the pain will be...how long it will take to be over...how much terror you'll leave the earth experiencing. THIS is why you don't stop moving.
Every second of your life; such as it is at this point, is lived in fear. You're so afraid of IT that avoiding IT becomes your lifeforce.
The truth of the situation is that sooner or later, your body is going to give out. Your limbs will be paralyzed from exhaustion and you will go under. Your worst fear will be realized. Yes, it will hurt, and, yes, you will be terrified. Once you realize that it's too late to go back, you will wish that you had kept going...even though your body gave you no choice. But, here comes the good part....after the moment it feels unbearable...it will END. In an instant, all will go black and silent and then your pain will subside. Your fear will disappear and you'll see God when the light starts to return.
We've all been adrift in some ocean or lake or bathtub at one point or another. And we all know the fear of drowning. Our fear becomes our focus and it makes us miserable. It weakens us, hurts us, and makes us sick. And, unfortunately, somtimes no matter what we do...our fear becomes reality right before our eyes, and we can't do anything to stop it.
THEN WHAT?
Then we can rest. There's a physical and emotional release that comes once you know that the worst is over. There's no need to continue dog-paddling and there's nothing else to be afraid of. Your energies can be used for other purposes and you can begin to heal. I think that God often wants us to stop kicking and trust him to end our pain. That ending might bring death of some sort...but he shows us that death is often SO much easier than kicking.
Maybe the worst thing to fear IS fear itself.
You feel cold. You feel scared. Undoubtedly, you're trying to stay afloat. Your legs are spasming in continual scissor kicks and your arms are flailing. The longer you've been out there...keeping your head above water...your body becomes increasingly wracked with pain. Your breathing is labored and your lungs are on fire.
What would be going through your head during this nightmare? Depending on what particular body of water you're in, you could be wondering if a shark or an alligator is stalking you from below...waiting to make you his lunch. You would probably be thinking about loved ones and praying that you'll see them again. Maybe unfinished business would be on your mind...all the things you haven't accomplished back on dry land. But I'm pretty positive (hypothetically, of course) that your main focus would be on NOT DROWNING. What greater fear could there be than that?
From the time you found yourself alone and floating, your life has been nothing but an effort to survive. Every kick of the leg and every heavy breath has been birthed (either conciously or subconciously) to avoid, or at least to delay, the feared end of drowning. To stop trying would be to be to die. Over and over and over, you forsee your muscles stiffening and your lungs filling up with water; and you imagine how excruciating the pain will be...how long it will take to be over...how much terror you'll leave the earth experiencing. THIS is why you don't stop moving.
Every second of your life; such as it is at this point, is lived in fear. You're so afraid of IT that avoiding IT becomes your lifeforce.
The truth of the situation is that sooner or later, your body is going to give out. Your limbs will be paralyzed from exhaustion and you will go under. Your worst fear will be realized. Yes, it will hurt, and, yes, you will be terrified. Once you realize that it's too late to go back, you will wish that you had kept going...even though your body gave you no choice. But, here comes the good part....after the moment it feels unbearable...it will END. In an instant, all will go black and silent and then your pain will subside. Your fear will disappear and you'll see God when the light starts to return.
We've all been adrift in some ocean or lake or bathtub at one point or another. And we all know the fear of drowning. Our fear becomes our focus and it makes us miserable. It weakens us, hurts us, and makes us sick. And, unfortunately, somtimes no matter what we do...our fear becomes reality right before our eyes, and we can't do anything to stop it.
THEN WHAT?
Then we can rest. There's a physical and emotional release that comes once you know that the worst is over. There's no need to continue dog-paddling and there's nothing else to be afraid of. Your energies can be used for other purposes and you can begin to heal. I think that God often wants us to stop kicking and trust him to end our pain. That ending might bring death of some sort...but he shows us that death is often SO much easier than kicking.
Maybe the worst thing to fear IS fear itself.
Friday, October 07, 2005
The Unmistakable Scent of Crayons and Pumpkin Pie
There is something immensely pleasant about old school buildings. (By “old”, I mean built in the 50’s or before.) My new job requires me to visit various elementary schools on a regular basis, and I think those visitations may just be my favorite part of the job. My own Elementary School (Simpsonville Elementary in Simpsonville, SC) had a definite venerable quality to it. And, while I don’t have an abundant amount of warm memories from that place, maybe that’s where my fondness comes from.
These buildings usually have an impressive stature…the authority of a second story, oversized entry doors, and castle-like stone bricks are the typical greeting. The dimly lit hallways are lined in ceramic tile and mismatched linoleum. The 20 foot ceilings support a skeleton of exposed piping that sings an incessant dirge of clanks and hums. Every classroom is framed by paint-chipped picture windows and olivy chalkboards. I know lots of teachers that brag about their “new” schools and the modern accommodations they provide. But those facilities just don’t have the same character; the same intimacy that older ones do.
Autumn is the best time of the year to be in a school like this. I don’t know that I can really explain why, though. There’s a quote in a movie I like about how Autumn makes you want to buy school supplies…”bouquets of sharpened pencils”. I totally get that quote. It’s partly because kids look so darn cute in sweaters and cotton tights. And I love those big metal accordion wall heaters that hiss and moan when you turn them on in cold weather. It’s partly the decorations….smiley scarecrows with their arms posed in motionless waves, paper mache’ pumpkins, leaves in velvety colors, turkeys with tissue paper tails. It’s partly the way the atmosphere suggests Holiday time….and how that suggestion seems to make everyone a tad bit jovial. It’s partly my own personal correlation between kids and Autumn. There’s something magical about that connection. Just thinking about it puts me in the mood to read the Richard Scary Bedtime collection all snuggled up in a blanket and drink cinnamon cocoa and dress up in a Halloween costume and watch “It’s The Great Pumpkin! Charlie Brown” and eat my grandmother’s stuffing and write an essay about all the things I’m thankful for (not necessarily in that order).
Now, where did I put my argyle kneesocks…..?
These buildings usually have an impressive stature…the authority of a second story, oversized entry doors, and castle-like stone bricks are the typical greeting. The dimly lit hallways are lined in ceramic tile and mismatched linoleum. The 20 foot ceilings support a skeleton of exposed piping that sings an incessant dirge of clanks and hums. Every classroom is framed by paint-chipped picture windows and olivy chalkboards. I know lots of teachers that brag about their “new” schools and the modern accommodations they provide. But those facilities just don’t have the same character; the same intimacy that older ones do.
Autumn is the best time of the year to be in a school like this. I don’t know that I can really explain why, though. There’s a quote in a movie I like about how Autumn makes you want to buy school supplies…”bouquets of sharpened pencils”. I totally get that quote. It’s partly because kids look so darn cute in sweaters and cotton tights. And I love those big metal accordion wall heaters that hiss and moan when you turn them on in cold weather. It’s partly the decorations….smiley scarecrows with their arms posed in motionless waves, paper mache’ pumpkins, leaves in velvety colors, turkeys with tissue paper tails. It’s partly the way the atmosphere suggests Holiday time….and how that suggestion seems to make everyone a tad bit jovial. It’s partly my own personal correlation between kids and Autumn. There’s something magical about that connection. Just thinking about it puts me in the mood to read the Richard Scary Bedtime collection all snuggled up in a blanket and drink cinnamon cocoa and dress up in a Halloween costume and watch “It’s The Great Pumpkin! Charlie Brown” and eat my grandmother’s stuffing and write an essay about all the things I’m thankful for (not necessarily in that order).
Now, where did I put my argyle kneesocks…..?
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