i skipped out on a birthday celebration party last night. unlike me. i need the leaf-turning to begin. and now. [however --- just to make sure the universe remained balanced, and i got my necessary shot of random, we ran into these lovelies whilst out for brunch in our pjs this morning....]

i just took a job from someone i really like.  well, not really took it. more like took it over. she was leaving so the company was interviewing. and i spent the last two weeks being trained by her. to do the job she did. and did REALLY well. so there are some big shoes to fill.which is a new experience for me. because USUALLY you take over for someone that did things UNwell... and thus the vacancy. but, this time, she decided to head back home to family and is leaving behind friends/coworkers that love her very much. and to top it off, she was only in the position for 4 months... so she did really well while the expectations were just that she was getting her feet wet. if i want to get really paranoid it could be that i am taking over for a legend of a really small sort. she was fabulous. and did the job amazingly well. and was gone before any TRUE problems could surface and/or be dealt with. and i really liked her. in the two weeks i knew her. i was glad she was leaving so that i could have this great job, AND terribly sad that we had not met earlier bc she is wonderful.

and, as i mentioned... its a new place for me to be in.

i have spent the three weeks as my arch nemesis AKA "bitter and bitchy" [should i have SEEN the writing on the wall when my sister bought the cartoon montage dubbed 'bitter with baggage'???] bc of recent events in my life. and then yesterday i dubbed it the end of that cycle in my life. it wasnt a fit. i like to expect things to be happy. and people to be good. and kind. its how i PREFER to view the world. despite experiences that attempt to convice me otherwise.

lyndy. thats the chica. the one that used to have my current j-o-b. before taking off on friday for a cross  country trip back to utah she had a phone interview. which she discovered that she hated. bc it was such single dimensional interaction. and while chatting about it we decided its bc body language is such a huge factor. and in an interview you want to see that the people that are screening you are people that you would want to work for and with also. and in a phone interview that doesnt really happen. its all limited to intonation. which can be so misconstrued. AND you dont really get to screen the company. i mean, they are trying to narrow a field of applicants. you are trying to get to first base and see if the rest of the game is an option. horrible disconnect.

as i mentioned... i got dumped. its a first for me. i dont get dumped. ever. i usually get bored. distracted. sidetracked. but this time i did---i got dumped --- and HARD. and it was in the first throes of a relationship --- the part where i still think he is terrific and flawless and there has not been any real time for him to show his feet of clay and the poop that could/should/would piss me off. four months. the same amount of time that lyndy put into her job --- and, yes, the one that i am taking over now. so i am immortalizing him as this perfect creature that just had to leave as much as my current coworkers may do to her. so anything that i do from this point will be suspect as "not as good as lyndy".

you can draw the line here.

i have my own phone interviewees now. peeps that are wanting to get together. to hang out. to take over where the dumper left off. to make the one dimensional exchange bw us something more. and i am screening. its terrible. absolutely terrible. i am not even giving them the chance to get to bat. i have this imagined standard bc of someone that was only in the position for a vaporous sneeze of a minute. who didnt have time to really be anything significant. he could be great bc there werent any other options really.

i dont want to miss the contributions of the me's in my life bc i am hung up on the lyndys. the new peeps wanting to come in and be significant. not that the lyndys are not significant. they come and leave a brilliant flash of light. they let you know that connections are not bound by time constraints. that you really can connect in an extremely finite amount of time. BUT you also need not measure all future connections by their smoldering imprint. they couldnt stay. wouldnt stay. had to go. vaporized. during a dismissive phone call. not an attractive long-term characteristic in someone. he too was narrowing a field of applicants while i was just trying to decide if he alone would work for me. tragic disconnect.

so here's to measuring up to the shoeprints lyndy left. measuring up and overshadowing. and to bettering my interviewing skills.

when i was 14 years old i lost my grandmaw to cancer. and my 40 year old mom lost her mother. thats the reason i relay. to support the american cancer society's mission to eradicate the disease. went to relay for life university this morning and got enthused all over again. by both the stories of loss and of hope. if you know someone that has been touched punched by the monstrous barbarity of chemotherapy --- how can you not get involved? 

act 1, scene 1 - late night chat session bw two tragically geographically seperated siblings once unintentional malignment is righted, whatsnewwithyou covered and the earth returns to its normal axis rotation. cue sound of rapidly tapping keyboard.

lilsis: can i try a realllly bad analogy on you?

bigsis: suuuuuuuuuuuuuure

lilsis: i was walking around today w my cutie atman dog and other dogs were behind fences or on leases or tied outside the coffee house and it was funny... how all those dogs from shitzoo (sp?) to golden to malamute (sp?) etc all reacted to this same, sweet little puppy...in diff ways

it's not bc atman isn't sweet enough

it's not bc he doesn't communicate clearly enough 

those freagin dogs all have these lives behind them and genes amongst them that make them afraid or playful or aggressive... the point ab you being seen as a [maternal generalization resulting in much current indignation] isn't ab how you dress, where you go or how you act as much as it is how you respond to the reactions you get find the people that don't and would never 'tolerate' you for the eye-candy, arm-candy properties you offer and stick to them

that last paragraph, not so good but you get the point 90% of the world sees me as [same maternal generalization AKA ma-gener] too... you know that but they're wrong..you know that

bigsis: yes i do

lilsis: i think the point is...

don't worry about whether or not you come of as a [ma-gener] and worry only whether that person sitting across from you has the depth to want more than that

judge them, not caring about how they judge you

---sermon complete--

bigsis: haha

lilsis: To note that author claims no warranty to the truth of any of the preceding statements.

No liability for the public's reaction.

And no accountability, at large.

..the american way.

bigsis: haha again

lilsis: :)

 Funny how similar messages come to us via different channels... this is wilma and  its refreshing to hear how she thinks.

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Under the Tuscan Sun

Under the Tuscan Sun, 2003, 113 mins.

Directed by: Audrey Wells

Starring: Diane Lane, Sandra Oh

Seen: 2006

 

Yes, I know. This is a 'chick flick.' There are some films, however, that simply SHOULD be watched without the guys.

 

Ok, so it's sort of a cheesy, trite story:

 

Middle-aged woman finds out her husband is cheating on her, gets divorced, goes to Tuscany, buys a villa on a whim, makes new friends, and finds herself. Whoopie, no surprises!

 

But, I had put off seeing this film for three years because I KNEW it was going to affect me.

 

In 2003, when this film was released in theaters, I had just returned to the States from spending the entire summer in Rome. I had rented an apartment in the Centro Storico, worked in a library while conducting research and writing essays, and immersed myself in one-on-one Italian lessons. I had returned with a love of Rome deeply settled in my heart, the kind of love that physically aches when broken, and I was bitter that I couldn't simply pack up my kids, buy an apartment in Rome, and spend the rest of my days with the warm Mediterranean sun on my face. My urge to leave the United States and return to Italy was so strong that I still occasionally entertain the thought of developing a scheme for my return, and to this day a book on restoring Italian villas remains on my Amazon Wish List, just in the off-chance I'll get my wish.

 

I knew I could not see the film upon my return. It would either make me cry or I would be upset at the portrayal of the place that I loved so much. (Or both)

 

And I was right. Even three years later the film pulled at my heart. What is it about the simple things, the quality of the sunlight, gelato dripping in the heat, the chatter at the market, and hillsides covered with olive trees that draw me in and make me want a different life?

 

 I started to think about it...

 

I felt more alive in Rome! I felt more alive in Italy in general. Most people say that it is because I was a visitor in a strange land. Everything was new and exciting. If I had to live there day to day, I would not love it so much. All that may be true, but I started thinking about what I did differently in Italy that I don't do here. Are there things I did there that I could start to do here to make my life more enjoyable? I'll return to this thought in a moment.

 

The primary message of 'Under the Tuscan Sun' is to cultivate your own life, do what makes you happy, and everything will fall in place. Specifically, the main character, Frances Mayes, played by Diane Lane, starts out being sad and afraid of being alone after her divorce. She soon meets another woman, Katherine, played by Lindsay Duncan, who seems fairly happy with herself, with the exception of a couple of episodes of drunkeness. Katherine tells her a story of how when she was a little girl she would race around the garden trying to capture ladybugs until she was so exhausted that she would lie down in the grass and fall asleep. When she woke up she would find that she was covered with ladybugs.

 

The story reminds me of a poem I have on a shelf in my bedroom. You've probably heard it. It goes like this:

 

A Few Words of Caring

 

After a while you learn

that love doesn't mean leaning,

that kisses aren't contracts, and presents aren't promises...

And you begin to accept defeats

with your head up and your eyes open,

with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.

So you plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul,

instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you can endure...

that you really are strong

and you really do have worth,

and with every new tomorrow

comes the dawn.

 

I have always made my own way in life. But what were the things I could do differently to really 'decorate my own soul?' I started thinking about the things I did in Italy...

 

I made a list...

 

• I wasn't afraid to talk to strangers.
• I looked for new and interesting things to do each day. (Art galleries, new restaurants, tourist sites, gardens to visit, etc.)
• I got outside in the sun everyday. (Never underestimate the benefits of solar power!)
• I stopped in to say hello to new friends I met, instead of waiting for an invitation.
• I wrote in a journal everyday.
• I tried new recipes.
• I said yes to things I normally said no to. (smoking, veal, riding a motorino without a helmet)
• I lived everyday as if it were my last, because I knew my time there was limited.

Ah-ha!! And there's the rub! That is the main message of the movie and the main point I want to stress in this post. We can choose to embrace this life, to savor every day, to decorate our own souls, lie down in the garden and relax, and live life to the fullest, or we can keep chasing ladybugs and allow the sands of time to slip through our fingertips.

 

It's all about choices.

 

I have long felt that if you lead a happy, fulfilling life, you will attract happy people to you. I simply needed this film as a gentle reminder to get me back on track.

 

 found this at another site. love it. and i thought i was just weird. and couldnt ask understandable questions.

A day in my Brain

This is dedicated to Katie B, and John Cross. Who know all too well the turmoil of the gifted mind. 

Let me explain my brain.  Imagine you can see thousands of patterns a second.  Patterns zoom around in your head all day long.  Patterns between social relationships, emotions, some logical patterns, some illogical patterns, some irrational patterns, some rational, some obvious, some not as obvious.  The world is a series of pictures, colors, and patterns.  History is not a series of events, but an evolutionary process of society. Slowly changing over time.  You subconsciously read through ambiguities and so they seem very obvious to you, because in your world nothing is really ambiguous.  It all makes sense in this huge picture of patterns.  The patterns are not made up or concocted on your own.  They are real. They really exist.  Everyone sees them from time to time; just you see them all, interconnected, all the time.  Your picture is larger than most other people in the world.  This makes you a perfectionist. 

Misspelled words, misplaced commas, or a not quite right word can ruin your focus for hours, at least until it is fixed.  Which is why you blog without regard for punctuation, to overcome your perfectionist tendencies. When writing you spend exorbitant amounts of time searching for the perfect word to express what you are writing about.  Scribbles on notes and papers drive you crazy.  If you write a sentence incorrectly, you are so stressed out by it you have to scribble the whole thing out and start over again. Sometimes on a new sheet of paper because it drives you crazy to see the mistake.

Then you are given an exam.  All it is, picking out patterns.  Something that is so easy. Only on this piece of paper where other people see one or two patterns you see a hundred. Your brain immediately prioritizes the patterns into the pattern in which they have to be resolved to make sense.  It is in essence a pattern of patterns.  So, you start with the first pattern in the series.  It would probably be insignificant to anyone else. But in your head, you have to have this pattern resolved to get to the next pattern. Although this pattern looks like it could be easily resolved you see an ambiguity.  Only most people wouldn’t see the ambiguity.  Then you have to prioritize the importance of mentioning the ambiguity and risking that if you do mention it you might have points taken off for going on a tangent that really isn’t a tangent. You opt not to mention it. You head to a resolution of the problem.

The speed at which your brain breaks down what you see on the paper is like lightening.  You reach a conclusion, only that isn’t what matters. What matters is how you got there. Only you don’t know how you got there because you thought through it so quickly that you are now well into the next pattern. So, you refocus your energies into pattern number one.  Then, you have to retrace everything you just thought and slow it down because your hand does not write as fast as your brain works.  Sometimes you miss steps because you have thought through a problem so fast.  Other times you can’t explain your answer at all because the whole process was subconscious.  Sometimes you get halfway through an answer and lose your train of thought because you are trying to think about what you are thinking and how you are thinking it all at once. 

In class, you ask a question, halfway through you don’t forget what you are thinking about you just think of another question that needs to be asked and inadvertently change your focus away from the question you were asking. Your brain has moved beyond it now.  This means you stop speaking because you are multitasking on a micro-level.  Then, your professor looks at you strange like “What is your problem?”  When really it isn’t a problem at all.  You are just three steps ahead of where you were two minutes ago and trying to slow down so that you make sense to everyone else.  Not that they are stupid by any means, or even slow for that matter.  No, these students who are also in your class are the brightest and best in the world.  They just don’t see the patterns you see.  They see smaller versions of the patterns.  Their pictures are smaller and more functional for the setting.  

People tell you that if you are so smart you should be able to compensate for yourself. Only what you need to compensate isn’t allowed.  In fact, you spend three years trying.  It can’t be done. It can’t be done because what you are being taught is a thought process not a bulk of material.  You can’t conform to the thought process because your thought process is like the thought process being taught only sped up 1000x's.  And you spend everyday wishing that someone would understand.  That someone could help you.  But they can’t. 

So, you find things you are good at.  Research is easy and you can do it really quickly because you see a thousand possible avenues to find an answer, and you know how they connect.  You can think on your feet very well in most situations. You are an excellent talker, and can engage an audience.  Typing allows you write a little faster and get more thoughts down, but writing prepares you better for an exam where you have to slow down your thought processes.  But if you write, you lose substance; if you type you lose a valuable skill.   So, you are fighting a losing battle with this one.  You ask questions in class to keep your brain active and involved.  It has nothing to do with the questions really. Most of the time you know the answers already, but maybe, just maybe, that professor can shed some light on the thought process you used to get to the answer.  Which might give you time to write it down while your brain zooms through the next set of material. 

That is my everyday.  I won’t trade my brain for the world.  My brain is creative.  It is  too valuable to me.  All that I want is for someone to understand me.  To see my patterns and their value.  To help a different type of student, and realize that in education there is no "normal."