Eep! Eep!

The first conversation of my day went something like this:

he:	Eep!  Eep!
me:	What?
he:	Would you like me to throw up in your mouth?
me:	What?!
he:	Zzzzzz….
me:	(to myself upon realizing he was asleep) Hmm… I think he was being a bird!

 

The second conversation of my day went something like this:

me:	Do you remember what you asked me this morning?
he:	What?
me:	“Would you like me to throw up in your mouth?”
he:	What?!
me:	Yeah.  You started off with “Eep!  Eep!”
he:	Ha ha!  I remember now. I think I was being a bird.

The Golden Rule, revisited.

The elders in my childhood had a number of sayings they often repeated.  “Your face is going to freeze like that” and “If your friends were jumping of a bridge, would you jump too?” are a few that come to mind. 

Maybe it’s a cultural thing, or maybe I was just a very inconsiderate kid who needed consistent reminding, but I could swear that most of my childhood experiences elicited one of their favorites -- the golden rule.

For those of you unfamiliar with this, tsk tsk to your elders, but here it is:

“Do Unto Others

As You Would Have Done

Unto You”

I heard this guide line so often that it clogged my every pore – eventually it sunk in.  As a teen and young adult, I tried my best (which isn’t always that good, mind you) to incorporate this rule into my life.

And then I realized it was completely wrong.

Many years ago, I went out with two friends to catch a movie.  In my mind, the best seat is the seat between two friends -- I can engage with both and feel like I’m right in the middle of things.

This particular night, I noticed that one of my friends seemed down.  Oh!  What a great golden rule moment, I thought.  I offered her the BEST SEAT and thought I was being considerate for having suggested it.

While I was out of the room making a popcorn run, the down friend turned to my other friend and complained about the seat I had placed her in.  “I prefer the aisle seat,” she stated glumly, annoyed that I had taken it from her.  My other friend, who knew me better, was able to explain that I had actually given away the seat I preferred the most and that I would happy to swap back. 

By the time I got back with treats from the lobby, everything was all sorted out.

It probably took more than a dozen incidents like this – some big, some small – to make me realize that I seriously needed to rethink this whole golden rule thing.

Now, if you’re going to cross-stitch anything for my kitchen – it should read more like this:

 

Yes, it can take a substantial amount of work to even come close to understanding how someone else would like to be treated.  There are books you can read, there are questions you can ask, there are stories you can listen to… 

But the first step, the biggest one in my opinion, is to recognize that not everyone thinks, feels, or makes decisions exactly like you do.  How lucky for you, that just by having read this, you’ve pretty much made that first step?

Have a nice walk!

Some might call this TMI.

I debated about writing this post.  After some thought it struck me that my hesitation was just another example of this silliness.  Although people normally don’t talk about this sort of thing in such a public manner, I would be fooling myself to think that this part of me is in any way secret… :)

A good friend recently had surgery -- the type that depends on the use of friendly intimate apparel during recovery.   On a search for something soft, supportive, and easy to put on I took her to Lady Grace,  a store that specializes in “intimate apparel”. 

As luck would have it, one of the store clerks on duty had had a similar surgery 5 years back.  As this woman offered advice about what garments to consider, she and my friend entered into a far more necessary conversation.  What was your experience like?  How did you respond to the treatment?  How do you feel now? Do you think I’ll be okay? …

To make more room for this discussion, I stepped back and began to browse.

Eventually, I made my way to the area where “my size” was located.  I flagged down a free, petite store clerk as she walked past and asked her if a style I liked was available in “my size”.

After a quick glance in my direction, she turned around and began walking away at a fast clip.  I stood there, dumbfounded.  Noticing that I hadn’t moved, she called out to me over her shoulder and demanded that I follow suit.  She marched me straight through the aisles, past the back of the store, and into the fitting room area.

“Knock knock!” she called out as she opened a fitting room door.  I stepped in after she motioned for me to do so and was a little surprised that she walked in right behind me and shut the door.

“Knock knock!” she called out again, standing squarely in front of me.

Once again I was dumbfounded.  Clearly she expected something from me, but I had no idea what that something was.

“Knock knock.” she repeated, nodding at me encouragingly.  Eventually she figured out that she needed to use more words to help me understand what she wanted.  I don’t think I would ever have been able to guess on my own that “knock knock” could also mean “please remove your shirt …. in front of a total stranger”.

 

Years ago I read that some huge percentage of women wear the wrong size.  As much as I did not want this to be true for me, deep down I knew that it was.  It had been years since I had last been measured.  There was no way that “my size” could still be accurate since I had gained plenty of weight since then.

As disheartening as it was to hear this woman practically recite the alphabet as she figured out my “correct size”, I have to admit that I walked out of that store a little perkier.

Is there a draft in here?

I may seem a little quiet to those of you who regularly follow this blog.  Although things I want to write are still swirling about in my head and my fingers are still capable of typing, a fraction of my brain has been given over to a slightly more pressing and urgent issue.  Which means that although my mind still works, less of it is available to tackle what the whole thing used to take care of before.

Lately, when I approach my computer to write, my awareness that it will take me longer than usual (which was already long) to form a coherent sentence has created an aversion to my keyboard.  Knowing that I will not finish even a first draft in one sitting has made me not want to sit.

I think that’s nuts. 

To work myself out of this, I am going to lean toward sharing half drafts with you.  Because of this, you will get likely get a glimpse of the skeletons my thoughts attach themselves to.  They may come in the form of an overheard snippet of conversation without commentary, a random image out of context, or a note to myself to explore a particular concept – who knows. 

It’s my hope that re-teaching myself that even the pieces are worth sharing will make the “getting down to business” side of me more likely to honor the process required to enable the whole to emerge.

Wish me luck!

Friday Fiction: "Start"

I found this tucked into my notes sometime back.  Perhaps a page was missing?  This will get some attention in the future, especially if you remind me.

Her father warned her this would happen.  Hair matted, clothing torn, she mustered her remaining strength to take in her surroundings. 

It was a world of concrete.  There was no dirt to be seen, only line after line of white markings.  A thread of rigs parked in a row gave the impression of a metallic wall -- but was it keeping her in or the others out?

A breeze washed over her, causing a chill and reminding her that her skin was damp.  Beyond the rigs, she could see a structure -- a rest stop?

As she struggled to her feet, she noticed a figure, close to the ground, running toward her.

Defeated, she sank back to her knees muttering to herself.  "Well, I hope it likes ketchup".

http://www.whoelsa.com

How to come across as clever (or not)

A friend once pointed out that when it comes to material for jokes, conversations abound with low-hanging fruit – you just need to look for it. 

This is easier said than done.  We are naturally wired to ignore most cases of mis-speech, tending to instead unconsciously bridge the gaps between what was meant and what was uttered. 

In order to get to the “hidden” funny stuff, you have to learn how to short circuit this wiring.  But the trick doesn’t end there.  Unless you want to become very unpopular, you have to learn how to do this in such a way that won’t interfere with your natural ability to be an accommodating listener.

You’ll find that material will pretty much jump up onto your lap.  The cool thing is that after you’ve noticed something funny, all you have to do is restate it and voila, you’ve made a joke.

There is one down side I should warn you about.  Once you’ve learned to apply this listening method to what other people say, you have by default learned how to apply it to yourself.

Here’s an example:

Person 1:  “I love learning new things.  Yeah, I guess I would say that I enjoy being mentally challenged.”

Person 2:  “I’m glad to hear that.  Some people have a hard time getting over the stigma.”

Person 3:  cracks up

I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but in this example I was both Person 1 and Person 2.

Have fun!  Post some of your favorites, if you get a chance.

Shameless plugs

Christmas music is in the air, wallets are out and in use…  the holidays must be approaching.

I mentioned by Zazzle-ness around this time two years ago.  Since then, my Zazzle account has served as a creative outlet, encouraging me to learn more about the knobs and doo-hickeys that come with my graphic software.

Now for the shameless plugs.  :)

 

Butterflies have been on my mind quite a bit lately.  The cards touch on the concept of  transformation that I have written about before.  Since they are customizable, I imagine they can be used for congratulations (e.g. “Hooray, you made it through!”) or as encouragement (e.g.  “Hang in there, it will be worth it.”)

The idea for the tie came to me as I tried to imagine someone being nervous on a first date.  Be on the look out for a blue butterfly tie, coming soon.

I’m currently in the process of designing “unique” ties.  I can promise you that no one you know has a tie like these.  Yet, that is.

Perhaps it’s a myth that dad’s and new boyfriends around the globe get ties for Christmas.  Just in case, I want to be well armed.  Plus, these are fun to make.   Christian recently gave me an awesome idea for a fun and quirky tie.  Check out my on-line store (http://shop.whoelsa.com) soon to see what it is!

Let me know what you think!  And, if you’re willing to do me a huge favor, spread the word. 

Thank you!

We get to choose which direction we face

Have you ever sat in a theater equipped with motion simulating seats?  Although it may seem strange to pay good money to get tossed this way and that like a vain woman’s locks, perfectly timed jolts, lurches, and drops can trick your body into believing what your eyes are seeing on the screen.  I like this -- the sensations conjured by the perfect combination of image and motion dunk me deep, deep into a movie. 

A number of years ago, half-way through an exciting series of roller coaster loops, dare-devil flight maneuvers, and expert speed racing stunts at this kind of theater, I randomly decided to come up for air and check in on my companions – were they

Story Hearts

I’ve been reaching into my pocket a bit more than usual the last two weeks -- I find it’s a helpful way of taking care of myself when people I care about need an emotional anchor. 

Sometimes the idea or image I turn to for comfort is not fully developed.  It might just be the essence of a concept or, in some cases, a tiny, little seed.  Recently, I heard Jackson Gillman tell about his experience listening to a powerful one word story.  It made me realize that the kernel of a story can actually be its heart.

Here is a story heart that has been on my mind quite a bit lately:

 

I hope it can buoy you as it has been buoying me. 

P.S.  I want to give credit where credit is due.  The cocoon image is taken from a photograph by Greyson Orlando.  The caterpillar and butterfly are the results of my fledgling path toward learning vector based graphics.

A pat on the back

A friend of mine and I try to make a point of scheduling regular buddy dates.  Sometimes we work and other times we play.  Most of the time what we do ends up somewhere in the middle.

A few months back we were playing around with lists -- the kind where you strive to turn off your inner editor.  100 things that make me happy.  100 things I am grateful for.  100 things I am good at.

Screeeeech.

100 things I am good at?  Suddenly I realized that my inner editor hadn’t actually turned off, she was just out gathering friends.  Inner critic, doubt, shyness – you name it – they were all dragged along to this party.