At Least Joey Knows He's Wrong

Somebody needs to say this. And I nominate myself. I've felt pretty blunt this week. So let's go...

One of my many pet peeves is the misuse of quotation marks. And I mean the quotation marks people misuse when they think it gives a word emphasis, when in fact, it makes them look ridiculous. Instead of emphasis, it gives the word a sense of sarcasm, as if you actually mean the opposite. So, people of the world, please hear me. DON'T use quotation marks for emphasis. Use ALL CAPS as if you're yelling it, make it bold, italicize it, or underline it, but no quotation marks please. Just in case people still don't understand, I thought I'd find some examples of misuse and translate what the author is really saying, as well as what he or she meant.

This Sharpie-equipped individual is a lazy writer. Run-on sentences. Random capitalization. No punctation at all, except for the quotation marks that he misuses. Now, what this guy (yeah, I assume it's a guy) is doing is just getting information out there. He wants the door closed because the pipes will freeze. And I think he probably means all-the-way closed, hence the emphasis. But what does this actually say? Other than he learned nothing in middle school English class? It actually communicates that the door probably doesn't close, and you should just do your best to close it. Just sort of push it shut. That's what this communicates.

This is great. This pharmacy, although I'm sure they mean something completely opposite, appears to be a little lax on the rules because you just have to have a "valid" picture ID. Something homemade is fine. In fact, just take a selfie with your iphone and show us that, and that'll do. Instagram is fine.
(Someone find out where this pharmacy is.... Could be good info to have at some point... :)

*wink wink* So y'all feel free to come and go as you please.

Wow. I do believe this firearm store is providing some political commentary on gun control, don't you? You know... Since it's all about your "freedom." There is the phone number to this store. Calling them is tempting.

I don't know about you, but this sign has the word chemicals written all over it. I don't know what "real" ice cream is, but I'd be willing to bet milk allergy sufferers and lactose intolerant folks are fine to eat it.

This store's sign maker.... *sigh*.... There are so many problems here that I'm not even sure what he or she is trying to communicate. All I know is what it does communicate: I don't read much. And I'm thankful for spell check. (Notice no spelling errors. Amazing.)

I love this one. It makes me laugh. So this place sells things that you might want and calls them "alcohol." And you don't really have to have an ID. Just show something that'll pass for one. But here's the rub. They "mean" it. So now it seems as if it's all a joke. And they're messing with the heads of smart druggies. It's almost like a dare to try to buy something illegal, so they can bust you. HA!!  This may be my favorite.

Yikes. Now obviously this employer is trying to communicate that it is absolutely necessary for the employees to wash hands. I get that. But what does it really say? Meh. Just sort of, you know, rinse 'em off. Just "wash" 'em.

I really do hope that these examples have caused a metaphorical light bulb to come on for someone. The next time you are so excited to tell someone that you are going on "vacation," or that your child got an "award," or that you have the "best" spouse in the world, think again. There are people out there who will read that and giggle and shake their heads at the irony. And by "people," I mean me.







Tiger lily

A couple of days ago, I accidentally stumbled upon a novel that I'd never heard of. Tiger lily by Jodi Lynn Anderson. Now, as ironic as this might be since I have degrees in English, I don't read a whole lot. It's time consuming. I don't know whether I became this way in college when it was absolutely necessary for me to finish a novel in a day or so, but I must finish a novel when I start it. I must start reading and finish it within a day or two. I HATE barely reading on a book for months before I finish. So, yes. It's time consuming. I commit to the book until it's done. Understandably, there is nothing more frustrating to me than spending every waking minute of a day or two to finish a book only to be disappointed and feel as if I've just lost days of my life for no reason. It's better just not to risk the lost time. If someone recommends a book to me, I'll read it. But I read a book from one of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Berg, once for no reason other than she wrote it, and I have NEVER done that again. Ha. All that to say... For me to just see this book and buy it and read it is unusual. And I am so glad I did.

Tiger lily is a behind-the-scenes story of Peter Pan, told from Tinkerbell's perspective. It is to Peter Pan what Wicked is to The Wizard of Oz. It's not a brand new book. It's been out for many months now, but I'd never heard of it. But it touched me more than any book I've ever read. Even more than The Shack, and for those of you who know me well, you know how much that was. I loved it. I was moved.

I just now read a review that was published, and it is more beautifully written than I could write. It sums up my thoughts exactly, so I will include it here:

"I had a lot of expectations when I picked up this book because the story of Peter Pan is one tale that I keep close to my heart. But this novel blew every single one of them out of the water in the best possible way. Bittersweet and wild, Tiger Lily has everything in a story that will make it stick to your heart like drying mud.

Being a huge fan of the Peter Pan fairytale, I wasn't sure how a Tiger Lily and Peter Pan love story was going to work. I mean, it's always been Peter and Wendy. They're perfect for each other. Now, I've always liked Tiger Lily but not as a love interest for Peter. What Anderson did was completely recreate Tiger Lily into this complex girl that you can't help but love. Tiger Lily's cold exterior is formed from years of teasing and a quiet but unyielding persistence to get through it. As her legend in the little Indian community grows, so does her solitude and her restless feet. At first, I wasn't sure it was possible to like such a cold and calculating character. Tiger Lily cared deeply for certain people though she would never admit to anyone--including herself. But as she ventures out more and lets her curious feet explore, you start to see cracks in that veneer. And because she is so calm and strong, it feels special. You feel special for starting to see how deeply she cares, how trapped she is in her body and routines and before you know it, you care so much for the girl with the raven feathers in her hair that you ache when she aches.

But Anderson doesn't stop with just recreating Tiger Lily. She breathes new life into every well known character. You know Captain Hook? The guy who is scared of crocs and seems completely okay with his hook of a hand? Yeah, not in this version. He's an extremely intelligent man when he's sober and a roaring angry and paranoid guy when he's drunk. The Lost Boys as a group of cuddling little kids who are just looking for a mom? Well yeah, sort of. But they are also known to be the most vicious and terrifying people on the island of Neverland. Whether this is just a rumor will be up to you to discover. And then there is the man himself, Peter Pan. As Tiger Lily grew close to him, I held my breath because I felt like I was standing next to a legend. How Anderson was able to create and animate such a complex character who is simultaneously so full of life and completely empty at the same time will never cease to amaze me. The care with which the author took to make all of these well known characters seem just enough like their legendary counterparts while making them something completely new is one of the best parts about this novel.

Going beyond the recreation of beloved characters, the author is also able to explain away all the problems that go along with putting a fictional land where people don't grow old in the real world. People just don't grow old on Neverland and the Englanders that come to the island just have an "aging disease". I liked thinking of this story in two ways--part old world exploration story and part magic fairytale. It sounds odd but the two blend almost effortlessly.

I think the blending of these two works so well because of the prose. The story is told with the storybook-esque narrative. We are told things are going to happen before they do but by the time the events fold out, it still comes as a surprise. The simple narrative combined with beautiful prose and a sort of jovial "I-told-you-so" that one finds in fairytales makes Tiger Lily unique onto its own and so very special. I was all ready to dive into Tiger Lily's consciousness so it was a complete surprise when Tink ended up taking the story over. I liked that we got to see her feelings and thoughts about what was going on and she was the perfect narrator since she couldn't speak to the other characters and interfere with how the story was going to play out. We saw how all sides were crashing into the conclusion and how it all would end but we could do nothing (besides the odd bite and ear pull) to stop it.

Tiger Lily is as bittersweet for me as the tale of Peter and Wendy. Their love is doomed from the beginning yet you still see them running in head first though you know what's coming. Watching Tiger Lily grow, come to terms with what love means (not just with Peter but with the other members of her tribe too) and having her heart broken will tear you up in the best way possible. This story grips onto those things you loved as a child, those ideas that you still hold sacred today and shreds them so it can makes something all new. I have a hard time finding words for how much this book affected me. All I can say is it's getting a special place in my bookshelf just like it carved a special place in my heart."

For any of those tweens, teens, or adults who love Disney, or who need to be reminded that people we love leave footprints on our hearts, or who need to be encouraged to tell people what they mean to us, this beautiful, lyrical, honest, moving story will be treasured. I will pass it on to my daughter now. And I hope she will treasure it too.



It Must Wait

I woke this morning with fever and in pain from head to toe. I am pretty sure it is the flu that my son has. I am actually relieved to know that fruits and water didn't make me this ill. I obviously need to focus on recovering before I do this cleanse. I did, however, weigh 24 hours after I started the cleanse. I had lost 4 lbs. Back to pre-vacation weight of 124. So that's good. It only makes me wonder what the scale would read by the end of the week. I will do this again. With a friend or two. I really am curious to see how I feel after the week. Until then, bring on the coke zero.

7 Day Cleanse- Day 1

The day started with my mother-in-law bringing donuts to the house. And, of course, I didn't have any. I stuck with my watermelon (which was terrible), cantaloupe, and strawberries. And the black coffee. It was as bad as I imagined it would be. But I drank it to keep from getting a headache from lack of coffee.

I had grapes and apples for lunch. The water part has been not fun. I have been having to chug water like beer at power hour at a frat house. Because I hate it that much.

Everything was going well until about 4:00. I just couldn't handle the water anymore. I started feeling really sick. Nauseated. Emotional. Headache. I started thinking I had the flu. That's how bad I felt. I ate some more cantaloupe and grapes.

By the time I got to rehearsal at 6:30, I was literally crying. I wasn't hungry. I'm not hungry now. I just cannot put another drop of that awful wet stuff called water in my mouth. I am going to try the cucumber/lemon/mint water that a friend told me about tomorrow. I have drunk about half a gallon today. That is a ton of water for me. Since I NEVER drink the stuff. EVER. I drink coffee (NOT black), coke zero, wine and vodka. That's about it. I am proud of the water I've drunk, but I did not and will not make the goal today. I'm still working on one bottle, but I only want to hurl it across the room, not drink it.

And now, it's 9:45. I am exhauted, emotional, sick feeling, and my head hurts. I honestly feel like I'm going to throw up. I didn't think that was the kind of "cleanse" it was talking about. If I am not actually sick, and if all these symptoms are from this diet of fruits and water today, then my body was worse off than I thought. If it is freaking out like this because it is missing its daily dose of mass chemicals, then let it. This is one time that my mind is controlling things, not my emotions.

Tomorrow I will wake up and have a day of more water and lots of vegetables. All day. Beginning with a potato for breakfast.

I hope this blog entry makes sense. My mind is mush, and my whole wimpy body hurts. I'm going to take a boiling bath and go to bed. I'm not quitting. I only worry that this week will get harder. And I already feel like death. Pressing on.... Pressing on.......

Countdown to 7 Day Cleanse

Just getting back from a short vacation where I did not take the best care of my body, I really wanted to try this 7-Day Cleanse I read about. Supposedly you feel great after the week, and you lose some weight (and I know I've gained some here recently.) The diet reads that you lose 10-17 pounds! To lose 10 pounds would be awesome! ;) I'm not sure how realistic that goal is, but I intend to find out. I plan to blog about my experience every day of the week. I need a sort of support system. I'm writing to myself, I suppose, but I think this will help me stick through it. I can do anything for a week.

Here are my concerns. I hate water. I hate it. It is foul. It is wet and tasteless and makes me gag. I said it. And I have to drink a ton this week. And no alcohol. None. Yeah. Wow. As I type this, I'm having my last coke zero/ vanilla vodka for a week. I even added a shot of amaretto to it tonight. Why not? And I am limited to black coffee in the mornings. No sweetener or cream or milk. I can do it though. Or I'm a complete... what's a nice word I can use??.... um.... wimp. Drink the water. Drink the black coffee. Don't drink the vodka. Easy.

And I love sweets. Milk duds and sugar daddies and other chewy goodness that ruin your teeth. No sweets this week. I love sweets. It's a problem sometimes. I eat too many. And none this week? Cold turkey? Should be interesting...

And I hate tomatoes. They are slimy and cold. Gross. It may as well be raw egg to me. There is one day I must eat 6 whole tomatoes. So guess what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna put my big girl panties on and eat 6 whole tomatoes. Because I'm not a..... wimp.

And beef? I don't really eat it much. It makes me feel yuck. I'll eat a filet every once in a while. And I eat hamburgers from time to time. But I could really live without it. There is one day I am supposed to eat 2 10 oz. portions of beef. I will throw up. I can tell you right now that is not happening. But I'm not worrying about that right now.

I weighed just now. 128. Yuck. I've gained about 4 pounds. Well GOODBYE in a week. I will weigh next Monday night and I BETTER be way lighter than that. Because I'm not eating cold sliminess and disgusting water and gross coffee and no delicious foods for a week for nothing. So stay tuned for my day-to-day culinary trials and tribulations. I'll let you know how horrible it is and will be brutally honest about it. The water will be the worst part.

Tomorrow it begins. Fruits. All day. Shouldn't be too bad.

What If Punk Never Happened?

A friend of mine informed me recently that there is a name for what I now know that I suffer from: Athazagoraphobia. It is the fear of being forgotten. It is a real fear of mine. Probably the only real fear I have. Well, I also have Catapedaphobia, but that's beside the point. I suspected for the longest time that I have a fear of rejection. But that is not true. No one likes rejection, but I don't fear being rejected. If I'm not cast in a show, it doesn't devastate me, as long as my audition was remembered. I realized that this fear of mine has been the driving force in my life for a very long time. Perhaps the reason I try to stay so busy, overfilling my plate many times. In some mad hope, perhaps, that it'll help me be remembered.

And it makes me wonder why. What is so terrible about being forgotten? And I think the answer is that it makes me feel insignificant. It makes me feel as if my life experiences and the things I thought were important and worth my energy and passion at the time are insignificant. I will never do anything that will be recorded in history books. I'm not going to discover the cure for some awful disease. I am not going to be some kind of counselor or motivational speaker who changes people's lives. I'm probably not going to be anyone famous. And that's ok. I think I am fine with who I am. And I'm not unsatisfied with my life. It's full, and I have much to be grateful for and am. It's just when the curtain closes, I am scared to death that no one will remember. Especially the ones who have been significant to me. Of course my family will remember, but I mean more than family. Friends. Teachers. Mentors. Just people in general.

Lately this fear has been overwhelming. I've jokingly called it a midlife crisis, but I think there was more truth than joke in that. I feel the  need to constantly grow. Constantly create. Constantly search for more. Constantly connect and make an impression. Leave a legacy. Feel needed or important. Make something unforgetable, whether it's art or brownies or memories.

I don't forget. I remember everything. I remember details. Conversations. I guess people only remember the important things in life. But that tells me that everything is important to me. Even the stupid stuff. So if the stupid stuff is important, then the significant stuff is mindblowing. Stakes are very high.

I don't know the answer. I don't know how to not have panic attacks because of this silly fear. A fear that I'm sure seems ridiculous to many people. But a fear that I promise is real. The weight I feel on my chest this very second as I type this and my racing heart are real. Just thinking about all this is causing that kind of reaction.

It's just impossible for me to stop trying to DO, to create, to learn, to feel, to search, to be more. If it's an attempt to be remembered, then that's what it is. But couldn't it also be an attempt by me to remember? To value and feel valued?

I listened to a song this morning. It was The King Blues' "What If Punk Never Happened?" Life would be different. That's silly to say, but it's true. If punk rock had never happened, things would not be like they are. Maybe. :) Regardless, it made me think of my fear. I just want to matter. I want the question "What If Jessica Never Happened?" to be a very sad thought to a lot of people. I want to move people in a postive way. I want to be myself... the person God created... and to be loved just like I am. I want answers to my "What If" question to be things like "then I wouldn't have laughed so hard that day," or "I wouldn't have tasted that champagne cupcake or crack brownie she invented," or "I wouldn't have been sung 'P.S. I Love You' every night" (that would be my son's thought), or "I wouldn't have been moved in such a way," or "I wouldn't have learned that."

My favorite part of the song I heard today goes like this:

"Just let your dreams be your pilot, your imagination your fuel, Tear up the book and write your own damn rules, Use all that heart, hope and soul that you've got, and the love and the rage that you feel in your gut, And realise that the other world that you're always looking for, Lies right here in front of us, just outside this door, and it's up to you to go out there and paint the canvas, After all, you were put on the earth to do this, So shine your light so bright that all can see, Take pride in being whoever the fuck you want to be."

The older I get, the more okay I get with who I am. But I don't quit searching. And I think that's okay. It's not a bad thing to keep painting your canvas. And the more "canvases you paint," the more likely you are to be remembered. There are those moments in life you try to remember (births of children, Christmases, etc.) and then there are those moments some try to forget. There's value in every moment. And I pray that I make positive unforgettable impressions in the lives of people, especially the people I love so dearly. Maybe that's narcissistic. But it's the truth.

I'm reminded of "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera. I'll spare quoting more lyrics but that's how I feel. People forget. Some even WORK to forget. I suggest we work to remember. To shine bright and make impacts. To remember all the things that make us who we are. To paint canvases. To value people and memories. To be okay with the person you are. And to create new memories that are impossible to forget.



Trick Your Brain?



My mother has a Ph.D. in counseling. She is published, counsels people and teaches at a university. Who would think that she could tell me three little words that may or may not change my life? We're all screwed up, right? We all have issues. Many of us actually pay a licensed counselor to help us through tough times. Years and years of counseling some people think they need. But three words... Three words could possibly eliminate the need for counseling for all mankind?

TRICK. YOUR. BRAIN. That's what she told me the other day. And she didn't sit me down and look me in the eye and get all serious on me. I think she was actually getting up for her chair and sort of threw those words as me with a little nonchalant headshake. "Ehh.. Trick your brain." No big deal. Just trick your brain.

So now let's apply this. I have chronic migraines. I have no idea what causes them. But let's say I just trick my brain into thinking I don't have them. *Head is killing me* "Oh, no sir, my head doesn't hurt!" and just go about your business? Eventually, will your head just give up trying to kill you? Kind of ignore it and it will go away? Now, I don't think she was talking about physical ailments, but guess who is trying this new "trick your brain" technique regarding headaches right this minute? I'll let you know how that goes. I actually think that example blows.

Let's try this... Think about it... Any sort of happiness/sadness/worry/stress issue that you have could really benefit from this technique. Let's say you are sad you didn't get the job you wanted. What if you told your brain that you didn't want that job to begin with? You say it over and over every day until your poor confused brain catches on. I mean really... Who cares you are a friggin liar? If it helps you wake up every morning with a smile on your face, then lie away, right? Live your life in a deceitful way? Ok, now that I think about this example, I think it blows too. I mean, where does your heart come in to this equation? Isn't it your heart that wanted the job? I can buy into tricking your brain, but not your heart. MAYBE after a while, if your brain really starting believing that you didn't want the job, then PERHAPS your heart would go along for a while. Until you saw the person that got the job instead of you... or you read something that reminded you of the job... Or what if the job was... say... a lifeguard? Every time you saw water or the sun or a bathing suit you would mourn the loss of the job all over again. Your heart won't forget how much it wanted that job and will tell your brain.

Ok. I'm trying one more example before I just give up on this theory completely. And I think this one may work. What if someone dear to you was no longer here? Let's say they died or went away forever. You could trick your brain into thinking you just talked to them. Or just saw them. Have you ever had a dream about someone no longer living and you wake up and it really feels as if you just saw that person? I've always taken those dreams as a gift from God. I love them. Because you DO feel as if you just saw them. Not only did you see them, but often you talk to them and touch them. So if that works, then perhaps it works to trick your brain into thinking you see and talk to people all the time, even though you don't. You would never miss anyone ever again. This example I like. You are not lying to your brain. Or your heart. You are just remembering. You can close your eyes and remember what it felt like to hug your grandfather. And the way he smelled. And just PRETEND that you did actually hug him. This is the sort of brain tricking I can live with.

There is quite a difference between lying to your brain and saying, "I don't care that he died. I don't miss him" and just PRETENDING you just saw him. You do the former and then see a picture of your grandfather and what does your heart do? It breaks. And to hell with all the lying you've been doing to your brain. Because heart rules, people. You will break down in an emotional fit because you miss him. And then you decide to start the whole deceptive cycle all over again. But do the latter and what happens? You see a picture of him and your heart and brain collectively smile. Because it seems as if you just hugged him. And can still smell that smell of peppermint and tobacco, right? And you close your eyes and hug him again in your mind. So if this is what my mom meant by "trick your brain," I'm on board. I don't think it IS what she meant. But I still benefit from her words. Because I really really like this last example. And I will use it for sure in the future. I guess it is a form of lying to your brain. But it's a lie that won't backfire.

This kind of brain tricking is like getting one of those awesome God gifts in the form of a dream. But you are giving it to yourself.