Detail Orientated Natural Leader Seeks Man Who Can Fold Towels...Correctly

13. Describe 5 weaknesses you have.


Do you remember when you first started filling out applications for your first job and somebody gave you the advice, "Write your weaknesses as your strengths?" So, if you had trouble switching from one task to another, you wrote down that you were detail oriented. Or, if you were messy, you wrote: works well in chaotic environment. I still do this in my head. I'm not a control freak, I'm a natural leader! So, to focus my mind on the task, I decided to look up the definition of weakness. www.dictionary.com defines weakness as:

noun

1.

the state or quality of being weak;  lack of strength,firmness, vigor, or the like; feebleness.

2.

an inadequate or defective quality, as in a person'scharacter; slight fault or defect: to show great sympathy forhuman weaknesses.

3.

a self-indulgent liking or special fondness, as for aparticular thing: I've always had a weakness for the opera.

4.

an object of special desire; something very difficult toresist: Chocolates were her weakness.

I decided that my first four weaknesses will be based numerically on the four definitions. So...


1. This is easy. I have arthritis throughout my body, from my neck, all through my spine, in my hips and in my knees. I am in pain daily and when I get flair ups, I can barely do anything. Sometimes I can barely feel my limbs. I have trouble backing out my car because I cannot turn my neck enough to look over my shoulder. Friends can testify to this because I have hit their parked cars. I also have hypoglycemia. When my sugar drops, I become an idiot and run the risk of fainting. This can be comical or scary, depending on the situation. If I say I have to eat, I REALLY have to eat.

2. When I was Vice President of a college club, I often scolded the other members for not doing their jobs. The other officers got so irritated with me, and I at them, that I decided to leave the club immediately. Our sponsor, a professor, called an emergency meeting. She explained that I didn't ask anything of the officers that I didn't expect of myself. And, yes, I was hard on them, but I was harder on myself. This was very enlightening to me. At that time, I wasn't aware of this trait. I learned to ease up on myself and others...some.

3. I have a special fondness for the Bible. I do not consider myself a Christian. In fact, if confronted by a Christian concerned for my soul, there is a good chance I won't be nice. I do have many Christian friends, and I respect their faith and they don't try to convert me, so we get along swimmingly. But, I have always loved the Bible. Many of my Bibles have notes in the margins. The notes could be questions, observations, a link to another scripture else where, whether I agree or disagree, and even how that scripture related to whatever was going on in my life at the time. To me, my Bibles feel like diaries. I have read the Bible several times, but haven't in a long time. Too long, really. 

This is my third Bible. My first is put away in a keepsake box and my second Bible fell apart from  use.

This is the inside of my third Bible. As you can see, I made it mine. This was a birthday present to myself when I was 15. 

4. Chocolate. I know it's the example in the definition. I know it's cliche. I know that just about every woman in the United States could and probably would say the same. But it's true. I love chocolate. I'm a chocolate connoisseur. I prefer 72% dark chocolate. If you blindfold me and put chocolate in my mouth (I'm paranoid, so this will never happen), I will be able to tell you if it's milk chocolate, dark chocolate or white chocolate. If it's dark chocolate, I can get pretty darn accurate about telling you the percentage of dark chocolate. I know cheap chocolate and I know GOOD chocolate. My current favorite is made by Dagoba. Give them a try! 

5. I'm a perfectionist. Nobody can do what I do better than I can. When my husband folds the towels, I go in behind him and refold them. If my daughter dusts, I go in behind her and dust again. When I worked at the bookstore, I would go in behind someone helping in my section and straighten the shelves. It's hard for me to settle for "good enough." When I settle for "good enough," you must understand that part of my soul has just died. RIP, piece of soul. 

Mayday Mayday Mayday

6. What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?

Mom and Me

The month of May is a hard month for me. Four years ago, my mother went into a coma on Mother's Day and she never woke up. She died on May 21, 2008. Less than two weeks later, I was in a foreign country for the first time, by myself, starting my journey for an MFA. My son was 8 months old and had an ear infection and I wasn't there to take care of him. That is a summary of the hardest thing I have ever experienced.

There are details, of course. When the doctor told my father, brother, and me that my mother wouldn't wake up from this coma, we were given the decision whether to give life support or remove it. Our father told us that he would honor our choice. My brother said he couldn't make the choice because, if it was left to him, he would keep her alive forever. My mother told me many times that she did not want to be on life support. So, I made the decision. It took her ten days to die. The nurses would come in with little moistened sponges to dab inside her mouth and my mother's mouth would reflexively suck on the sponges.

After she died, I started having nightmares that my mother was trying to kill me so I stopped sleeping. I went to the doctor. He prescribed Zoloft and Ambien.

Life had to go on. My daughter turned 6 on May 29. Her first year in kindergarten ended. My son developed an ear infection that kept him up late into the night crying. A few days later, I was on a plane to Ireland with my nightmares and grief, leaving behind my father, brother, the yet marked grave of my mother, a sick child, and another just free from school. I knew nobody in Ireland. I found the group at the airport in Dublin and tried to make eye contact. "Make friends," my husband told me. Nobody talked to me. I rode alone on the bus to our hotel in Carlow. I ate breakfast alone. Sometimes I tried to tag along with a cliche of girls, but they all walked faster than me and talked about people I didn't know. Some people were nice enough, but distant. I finally forced a girl as alone as I was to be my friend. Poor Dorina. But she championed along and we wandered the depressing streets of Carlow for fish and chips or a sandwich. I felt extremely alone. I felt like a failure as a mother because I wasn't there to care for my son. I felt like a failure as a daughter because I chose to let my mother die. I felt like a failure as a person, because I could not fit in. There were two beds in my hotel room, one a double and one a single. I slept in the single because the double would remind me that my husband wasn't there.

When I returned from Ireland, life was still going on. Life hadn't stopped in the States. The kids were the same, my husband was the same, the animals were the same. But I wasn't the same. June in Ireland, the sun goes down around 11 PM and rises much too early. The hotel windows had big, heavy, red curtains that blocked out everything and made the room darker than any night on my uncle's farm. When I got home, I could not sleep. The sun through the window blinds gave me migraines. The semi-darkness of night made me grind my teeth. I put a sheet over the bedroom window. I closed all the doors. I hid under the blankets in bed. And, whenever I slept, my mother tried to kill me.

Did I Do That?

10. Describe your most embarrassing moment.

I'm getting this one out of the way. Not because I'm super embarrassed by my most embarrassing moment, but because I don't have one. I've been embarrassed plenty of times, but they have always been minor embarrassments. I sat around for awhile with this list waiting for something embarrassing to happen that would be worth writing about, but, I'm sad to say I'm pretty boring. All the usual embarrassing things that happen to other people have happened to me. I've farted near a cute boy in class, I've had my fly unzipped in public, I've fallen many times, I've had a booger on my face I didn't know about, I've called someone the wrong name, I've had my kids yell things completely inappropriate in public, but, you know, nothing EMBARRASSING has really happened to me. To err is human; to get over it, divine? Still, I don't want my readers to feel like I'm just trying to get out of this without sharing anything. Therefore, I will regale you with five random embarrassing moments.

1. When Corey was three, I took her into the church restroom. There were a few other women in the restroom. Corey and I went in a stall together. First she peed, then I peed. While I was peeing, Corey remarked as loudly as possible, "Mama, why do you have hair on your vagina and I don't?"

2. I don't think I stopped playing with toys until 9th grade. I can't quite remember, but I do know most other teenagers I knew didn't have toys in their rooms except for display. One time, a friend came down to my house with another girl that didn't like me. My blinds were open. Instead of going to the door, they came to my window. Busted playing My Little Pony.

Oh, Moonstone, you rebellious pony! I'm so glad you settled down and had foals of your own.

3. In middle school, I had a project to design a poster board about me. One of the mandatory elements was a  schedule of a typical day. I listed on my daily schedule the fact that I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation twice a day, every day. I had no idea that Star Trek was not considered awesomely cool and got made fun of for a week.

4. More recently, I went to Party City with a friend of mine and my kids. I had taken prescription pain killers for chronic pain and my sugar was dropping, so I was in the middle of a brain fog. That's my excuse, anyway. While purchasing my items, the clerk asked if I wanted a bag. I think I stood there staring at her for a full minute trying to comprehend what a bag was and why in Hell I would want one. Finally, it dawned on me and I said, "Yes!" With a great sigh of relief. Even the clerk looked relieved to finally have an answer and I apologized profusely for the long delay. She asked me very slowly if I wanted the receipt in the bag after that.

Bag? What's a bag? 

5. I left my hometown at the age of 19, but my parents still lived there. About five years, give or take a couple of years, I was stopping at the grocery store for my mom and discovered that the checkout clerk was a guy I knew throughout middle school and high school. Last time I had seen him, he was dating a girl that I didn't much care for because she made fun of me for wearing a cowboy hat and boots. You know how high school love is, so I assumed he had moved on from this girl and stupidly commented that I couldn't believe he dated her. He stared me straight int he eyes and told me he was still with her. Hell, he might have told me he married her. All I know was it was a complete foot-in-mouth moment.

By the Power of Grayskull, I Am...The Zombie Mom!

If you could have one superpower, what would it be and what would you do with it first?

I'm afraid I don't have a very exciting answer for this one. I realize I could choose a super power to better mankind, but I'm no dummy. You start helping all mankind with a super power and the government is either going to want to experiment on you or imprison you because they see you as more of a threat. Plus, people would never leave you alone. If you have the ability to heal, everyone and their dying guinea pig is going to show up at the door. I imagine that would be quite draining. Any kind of superpower really needs to be low key.

Invisibility could be nice, except when people accidentally sit on you or roll their shopping cart into the back of your legs.

Great hearing would be awesome if you were a bit of a gossip, but with great hearing comes the increased pains of shouting, bass speakers in cars, lawn mowers, and garbage trucks. No thanks.

Flying is cold, turbulent, requires landing, and, let's face it, for the birds! You run the risk of getting shot down, struck by a plane, or attacked by hawks. In my dreams, the only way I can fly is if I stand on my head first, and then it's more of a glide. I can always fly highest when I'm relaxed. When someone is out to get me, I have to stand on my head a lot.

Landscape with the Fall of Icarus 

I would never in my life want to be psychic. I'm already really good at reading people and figuring out their emotions. I don't need to hear their thoughts on top of that. I knew a guy that was possibly psychic according to some other people I know. Oh my goodness, knowing someone might be psychic is way worse than not knowing. I promise you that by even considering a persons might be psychic puts a ton of worse (and dirty) thoughts in your head than normal. Because, at that point, you're thinking about all the things you don't want to think about because you don't want the psychic person to know you're thinking those things!

The most awesome super power would be the ability to clean the house in seconds, just by snapping my fingers (I can't wiggle my nose). I can do it when nobody's around so no one will ever figure out what happened. Carpets would be stain free, couches would be fur free, and every nook and cranny dust free without me sneezing a single time. It would work only for my own house, because in somebody else's house I wouldn't know where everything goes. Therefore, it wouldn't be a super power I would have to worry about sharing. My nails would grow out to a nice length. I would be able to get a book off the shelf without having to get my husband or daughter to dust it off and wipe it down with a damp cloth first. I would not nearly die walking into my son's room. And I would have a lovely yard, because a clean house is clean inside and out!

Oh, to be a kid again and want to be able to shape-shift or walk through walls. No, no, it's goodbye soap scum for me.

I KNOW You Didn't Just Do That...

Did you think I forgot about the darling list? Pshaw.

Describe 10 pet peeves you have.

1. Whistling. It drives me crazy. The Scorpions' "Wind of Change" made me think my ears would bleed. Whistling is high pitched and done way to often in bookstores. I used to love whistling. I was a great whistler. My favorite tune to whistle was "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly." I whistled so much as a kid, in fact, that my grandmother informed me that, "Whistling maidens and crowing hens never come to a good end." While I think she meant to dissuade me from whistling, I thought then and now that that was the most awesome thing my grandmother had ever said.

2. Being told I'm wrong, especially if I'm not wrong, and I'm NEVER wrong. I think this is a pretty common pet peeve for know-it-alls. It's so bad, in fact, that I will forsake going about my normal routine and life in order to prove the person wrong is not only wrong but a complete idiot. I don't even have to know this person to straighten them out. This means I might have to skip going to the store and the kids will have to eat peanut butter sandwiches made out of the heels of the bread loaf. Or, I might be an hour late reading bedtime stories to my youngest. If somebody bothers me while I'm proving someone is wrong and an idiot online, I will say, "Not now. Mommy's working." Because it's a JOB to be this right about everything! My husband once sent me the following picture. It is so true of me and this pet peeve. 

3. Lying. I can sniff out a lie faster than you can say liar. It drives me nuts. It's THE rule when my daughter's friends come to my house. Sometimes I let people think they're getting away with lying to me. You never know when you might need to bring up later like when they say you're wrong and you're proving they're wrong and an idiot to boot. I store away all these little lies and smile, smile, smile. If I was going to be all psychological about this, I would say it stems from my mother. Anytime I proved my mother wrong (because I've been a know-it-all brat ALL my life) she would get in my face, scowl all scary like, and say, "Are you calling me a liar?" And it wasn't that she lying. It was just that she was wrong. But it was terrifying enough that I would say no and back off. Now that I'm all grown up, a badass (in my head), and even MORE of a know-it-all, I've taken a personal vendetta against lying...and people being wrong. 

4. Texting while spending quality time with me. Holy cow, this one drives me nuts. It makes me feel like I'm not important or interesting enough to warrant someone's full attention. I don't know which is worse, people that try to do it discretely like I'm not going to notice them messing with their phone, or people who do it right out in the open while I'm talking to them. It really drives me nuts if I'm telling a story and during the middle or even at the end of the story, when I'm expecting a response about the story, the person I'm with states that they just got a text from so-and-so and just had to hear what they texted. This pet peeve has evolved from going out with friends and having them answer ever call while we're eating dinner or waiting for a movie to start. I have texting turned off on my phone. If I am in line at the supermarket getting checked out and my phone rings, I will ignore the call until I'm out of the line. It's just rude and thoughtless. I will even apologize to the cashier if my phone rings while we are doing business. 

5. Having to pick up other people's used Kleenexes. This happens a lot when you're married, and it happens even more when you have kids. I don't even like leaving my dirty napkins for the bus boys to pick up at restaurants. Those things are germy, and the only one who should be handling them is the person who produced those germs. The two places that top my list of most disgusting place to have to throw other people's Kleenexes are in my bed and in my car. Ugh and grr! 

6. Destructive ignorance. This could be racism, sexism, politics, religious views, or even the way people view and treat animals. If your beliefs hurt someone else, whether that be physical, mental, emotional, or even indirectly, it tees me off. There is so much information out there now that is so easy to access (I know people who might not eat, but they have the internet by-god!) that ignorance just isn't a valid excuse anymore for the crap people do. I'm not a pacifist. I'm not afraid to punch someone. But I just don't think it's right to belittle someone because their views are different than yours. For instance, stating whether directly or indirectly that anybody that is not a Christian is not really an American or is one of the problems with America. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. Coming from a Christian background, I am quite aware of the idea of free will. Free will got Adam and Eve kicked out of Eden. It didn't matter that they believed in God. Believing in God didn't make them do good things or bad things. Neither did the serpent. Free will did. They decided whether to obey God or disobey God. Based on this reasoning, people that are not Christian can be good or bad based on free will. It has nothing to do with believing in whichever or whatever or nonewhatsoever God/god/goddess/Cthulu. In fact, free choice is such a strong trait in human beings, that no Christian actually knows who will go to Heaven. It's in the Bible. I, personally, don't believe in Heaven or Hell, but it doesn't matter because the principle is the same. God doesn't make us better people. We choose whether or not to be good. We obey or we don't obey. We may use something (faith, inspirational books, therapy, or prescription medications for instance) that might improve our chances to behave ourselves, but it is still in our hands and not God's. 

7. The sound a dog makes while licking its junk. I don't think anything more needs to be said about this. 

8. Songs that spell words. By the time I figure out what they spelled, the song is almost over. Music shouldn't be a S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G B-E-E. 

9. Being late. I used to be 15 minutes early for everything. I was never late. Then I got married, had kids, and met a bunch of English majors. English majors, for those who don't know, are notoriously late for EVERYTHING. Now, I feel like I'm late all the time, and it's often out of my control. Someone else is driving, or a kid has to go pee when we're trying to get out the door, or we're halfway to nowhere when it dawns on the driver they didn't print out directions. GPS is only good if you're going to a business or you happen to bring your address book. There are events and places I avoid because I know there's no possible way I'll be able to get there on time. It drives me that crazy. 

10. Tom Cruise. I hated Tom Cruise long before he jumped up and down on Oprah's couch. His crazy will never be as awesome as Charlie Sheen's crazy. He's arrogant, from his hair, to his smirk, to the pants he wears. He's been in two movies I liked: Legend and Tropic Thunder. I liked Legend, but I didn't like Tom Cruise in it. I loved his character in Tropic Thunder because I didn't know it was him until the end. Tom Cruise should be the running mate of Rick Perry, who I am pretty positive is the Antichrist. 

Look at those arrogant pants!

Guilt, Punishment, and Death

My cousin's funeral is tomorrow. I'm not sure if I'll make it. It's a two hour drive and I'm still feeling pretty lethargic from the surgery. I would really like to be there. Junior came to see my mom when she was dying in the hospital. That meant a lot to me. I remember him on a tractor at my Uncle Pope's house cutting the hay. What I remember is that he was always where you needed him to be, when you needed him to be there, even though he had his own health issues going on. You have to respect and admire somebody like that. The bees that stung him have been destroyed. The woman that crashed into the ambulance that might have killed Junior has not had any charges brought against her. I think the charges are pending on the autopsy report. Nobody knows yet if it was the bees or the automobile accident. Two freak accidents, one man. Seriously. What stars were lined up that day?

I can't say I'm angry at the bees or the woman. Bees are bees. There's not much you can do about that. And that woman has to live with this accident for the rest of her life. I'd like to think she's a normal, nice, every day woman who did something stupid, made the wrong judgement call, wasn't paying attention, I don't know. It could be her fault he's dead. But, even if it was the bee stings, I imagine the guilt of hitting an ambulance is still going to be painful to live with. I would like to think so. Not to bring vengeance against her, but because, again, I want to believe she's a decent woman and a decent woman would be haunted by something like that. Of course, what she did was against the law, and she needs to be punished for that too. But I think that punishment will be small compared to the guilt. What do you think?

My Buddy and Me: A Modest Memorial to Lewis Nordan

I found out on Saturday that a mentor at the University I attend passed away. I waited all weekend for an obit. For an update on his wikipedia page besides the day he died. Anything, really. Nothing. I got a private message from a friend and the director of the creative writing program sent out an email. That's it. No memories, no list of accomplishments, no reason for death, nothing. So, I figure it's my duty to introduce you to Lewis "Buddy" Nordan. You can purchase his books here. 

Buddy was in bad health the last time I saw him. I never got a chance to mentor under him for a semester, but I got to know him and his wife, Alicia. We talked a lot about dogs and their love for rescued greyhounds. Buddy had a wicked since of humor and wasn't afraid to surprise you in a story. He had a sincere, wide smile and steely determination. I remember him reading to the students of the Creative Writing program in a clear and textured voice, perfectly capturing a narrator that has gone too far. He read brilliantly even though it was hard for him to stand, hard for him to handle the pages, and it just plain wore him out. With all my health issues, I hope I can maintain the dignity Buddy did. 

We had a few adventures, Buddy and I. We got lost trying to get to the school cafeteria because he was in a wheelchair, the cafeteria wasn't on the ground floor, and the elevator didn't exactly take you were you thought you were going. I'd fetch his lunch if he let me. I think he felt a little more comfortable with me because I'm disabled too, but I don't think he understood why I really wanted to get his lunch. I just wanted to listen to him. I might have been just another face, just another student to him, I don't know. It doesn't really matter. He made an impression on me. And even though you can't meet him in person, I hope you'll get to know this creative, funny, brave and amazing man through his books.  RIP, Buddy. Thanks so much for the memories. 

Edit: The New York Times released this article today about Buddy.