Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.

Otherwise, hello, and welcome.
Mail Trillian here<




Trillian McMillian
Trillian McMillian
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Women, The Internet and You: Tips for Men Who Use Online Dating Sites
Part I, Your Profile and Email

Part II, Selecting a Potential Date

Part III, Your First Date!

Part IV, After the First Date. Now What?


"50 First Dates"






Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.

Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Find Federal Officials
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Contact The Media
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Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)

Quasar
Hyperbole
Amenable
Taciturn
Ennui
Prophetic
Tawdry
Hubris
Ethereal
Syzygy
Umbrageous
Twerp
Sluice
Omnipotent
Sanctuary
Malevolent
Maelstrom
Luddite
Subterfuge
Akimbo
Hoosegow
Dodecahedron
Visceral
Soupçon
Truculent
Vitriol
Mercurial
Kerfuffle
Sangfroid




























 







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Highlights from the Archives. Some favorite Trillian moments.

Void, Of Course: Eliminating Expectations and Emotions for a Better Way of Life

200i: iPodyssey

Macs Are from Venus, Windows is from Mars Can a relationship survive across platform barriers?
Jerking Off

Get A Job

Office Church Ladies: A Fieldguide

'Cause I'm a Blonde

True? Honestly? I think not.

A Good Day AND Funyuns?

The Easter Boy

Relationship in the Dumpster

Wedding Dress 4 Sale, Never Worn

Got Friends? Are You Sure? Take This Test

What About Class? Take This Test

A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far Far Away, There Was a Really Bad Movie

May Your Alchemical Process be Complete. Rob Roy Recipe

Good Thing She's Not in a Good Mood Very Often (We Knew it Wouldn't Last)

What Do I Have to Do to Put You in this Car Today?

Of Mice and Me (Killer Cat Strikes in Local Woman's Apartment)

Trillian: The Musical (The Holiday Special)

LA Woman (I Love (Hate) LA)

It is my Cultureth
...and it would suit-eth me kindly to speak-eth in such mannered tongue

Slanglish

It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You
Blogging a Legacy for Future Generations


Parents Visiting? Use Trillian's Mantra!

Ghosts of Christmas Past: Mod Hair Ken

Caught Blogging by Mom, Boss or Other

2003 Holiday Sho-Lo/Mullet Awards

Crullers, The Beer Store and Other Saintly Places

Come on Out of that Doghouse! It's a Sunshine Day!

"...I had no idea our CEO is actually Paula Abdul in disguise."

Lap Dance of the Cripple

Of Muppets and American Idols
"I said happier place, not crappier place!"

Finally Off Crutches, Trillian is Emancipated

Payless? Trillian? Shoe Confessions

Reality Wednesday: Extremely Local Pub

Reality Wednesday: Backstage Staging Zone (The Sweater Blog)

The Night Secret Agent Man Shot My Dad

To Dream the Impossible Dream: The Office Karaoke Party

Trillian Flies Economy Class (Prisoner, Cell Block H)

Trillian Visits the Village of the Damned, Takes Drugs, Becomes Delusional and Blogs Her Brains Out

Trillian's Parents are Powerless

Striptease for Spiders: A PETA Charity Event (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arachnids)

What's Up with Trillian and the Richard Branson Worship?

"Screw the French and their politics, give me their cheese!"


















 
Mail Trillian here





Trillian's Guide to the Galaxy gives 5 stars to these places in the Universe:
So much more than fun with fonts, this is a daily dose of visual poetry set against a backdrop of historical trivia. (C'mon, how can you not love a site that notes Wolfman Jack's birthday?!)

CellStories

Alliance for the Great Lakes


Hot, so cool, so cool we're hot.

Ig Nobel Awards

And you think YOU have the worst bridesmaid dress?

Coolest Jewelry in the Universe here (trust Trillian, she knows)

Red Tango

If your boss is an idiot, click here.

Evil Cat Full of Loathing.

Wildlife Works

Detroit Cobras


The Beachwood Reporter is better than not all, but most sex.



Hey! Why not check out some great art and illustration while you're here? Please? It won't hurt and it's free.

Shag

Kii Arens

Tim Biskup

Jeff Soto

Jotto




Get Fuzzy Now!
If you're not getting fuzzy, you should be. All hail Darby Conley. Yes, he's part of the Syndicate. But he's cool.





Who or what is HWNMNBS: (He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken) Trillian's ex-fiancé. "Issues? What issues?"







Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.


< chicago blogs >





Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains





























Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero

 
Thursday, April 30, 2020  
So, this is my last night in my condo.

Thanks, pandemic, for dashing the dream of a "good-bye condo" party.

But, it's fitting that there's no last party, last toast, last "good night!" in my condo. This is not cause for celebration, so it's appropriate that I sit here alone with only boxes and a few dust bunnies for company. After all the time, sweat, tears and money I've poured into my condo the sad, the unfair bitter end is better spent on my own.

The condo I worked so hard to purchase, the home I sold my blood to pay the mortgage on during the recession, the condo I jubilantly refinanced for a crazy low interest rate a few years ago, the condo that is my nest egg, is being forcibly taken away from me by a parasitic practice known as deconversion.

For the uninitiated, deconversion is exactly what it sounds like: the opposite of a conversion.  A deconversion is when a condo building deconverts into a rental, usually with one very wealthy person (or group of investors) with real estate dollar signs in their eyes swoops in, buys the building and 75% or 85% of the units in the building then forces the remaining orders to sell their units. Why, you ask? Because they then turn around and sell the building to a rental management company and walk away with a huge profit AND 75% - 85% of the HOA funds. It's legal in Illinois and a few other states. It's not fair, but it's legal.

The irony is not lost on me: I bought my condo because my apartment building went condo and I was forced to move. It was happening all over the city, so, I bought a condo. And now here we are: moving boxes and dust bunnies.

And no, they did not offer me a huge sum of money. They only have to offer fair market value. And because the housing market in Chicago only recently started to come back from the recession, the fair market value of my condo is barely more than I paid for it.

So.

Yeah.

It sucks.

There's a lot more to this, and over the few months I've gone through all the emotions on the roller coaster that is deconversion.

I try, very hard, to find some way to accept it, but it's still a struggle to ascertain how it can be legal to force someone to sell their home.

But it is legal. And not even a pandemic can stop it.

I'm not buying another condo. Not after this experience. Not in Chicago. Not until (if) the laws change and deconversions are outlawed.

A house is out of the question for many reasons, primary among them that I cannot afford a house. The pittance I'm being given for my condo is laughable in the context of housing cost.

So, I'm moving in with a friend for a while. A decision made a few weeks before the pandemic gained momentum in the US, and finalized the week before Illinois when on shut-down. If we knew then what we know now we probably would not have made the same decision. Pre-Covid we were both gone a lot. Work, travel, family stuff.

"No worries about the usual roommate stuff, we're both gone a lot, we'll hardly ever see each other," we said, innocent of the stay-home order that was about to go into place.

And now we're both working intense jobs from home. We both have Teams and Zoom meetings several times a day. This is going to be...interesting.

We'll share expenses and hopefully save a little money. The apartment is not awful but it's not great, either. My stuff is going into storage with only essentials going into the bedroom that will now be my live/work space. It's an interim roof over my head. I remind myself it's temporary but it's still depressing.

It feels like a giant leap backward because it is a giant leap backward.

So, the last night in my condo, my last night as a homeowner, is being spent on my own. Self-isolating during the pandemic my cozy little condo has been my comfortable sanctuary. Me in my place, rarely leaving my home, staying safe, staying home. After tonight I won't have a home, not a home-home. I'll have a bedroom. But not a home. I can still stay safe, but staying home won't be staying in my home anymore.

I'm trying to act like it's just another night, a failing attempt to avoid melancholy. Every time a good memory snakes around a corner I push it back with a bad memory. Ever-increasing HOA fees with nothing in return. My stoner neighbor's skunky weed stench. The huge amount of crime in my zip code. All good reasons to be happy to move.

Next chapter, new beginnings, all that.


Labels: ,


9:16 PM

Tuesday, April 21, 2020  
Locked down and single.

I'm fine with it. I'm used to being alone. As are many single zeros.

But.

Add in the fear factor of Covid and being alone forces grim thoughts. "Well being checks" is a term usually associated with the elderly and those with mental health or substance abuse issues. During the pandemic, singles, "those who live alone," have been added to the recommended list of people to check on periodically. I've even seen news graphics that included "singles/those who live alone" on a bullet point list of people to reach out to during the pandemic.

I understand. I do. I'm sure people have our best interest in mind.

And, I mean, you know, no one wants a dead single person smelling up the building for weeks or months.

But that grim reminder in the form of "what you can do" recommendations on television and plastered all over social media adds a layer of sad self-awareness to self-isolation for single/zeros.

I'm hearing from family, friends and co-workers more frequently than usual, and I'm noticing a direct correlation between their texts/calls and the public service announcements on television and social media. I'm grateful and honored that they care enough to check in on me.

But it's kind of weird.

I feel obligated to answer the calls or respond to texts quickly. My concern being, that, if I don't respond quickly the well-meaning friend or family member will a) worry and b) call the police to have them perform a well-being check on me.

And that leads to thoughts of the police knocking on my door to find me in my comfortable but not-exactly-chic lockdown-wear, in desperate need of a haircut, no makeup, a couple weeks of laundry piled up* and other remnants of living alone** that are normal for singletons, but not-so-normal for those who haven't lived alone in a long time (or ever).

And yes, I'm lucky to have people who care about me enough to check to make sure I'm still alive.

But think about that sentence for a minute.

Yeah.

No matter how positive you try to spin it the underlying message is: "You're alone. All alone. So alone, in fact, that we feel obligated to call/text you to be sure you haven't died from Covid."

Pretty sure I'm on a few call lists that look like this:

Daily well-being check-in list:
  • Grandma
  • Uncle Ted
  • The church organist
  • That weird cat lady who works in accounting
  • Trillian
And yes, of course, yes, it's nice to be included on a well-being check-in list. I'm not discounting that I have people who care enough to make sure I'm not dead. Those calls and texts–no matter how gruesome or pathetic the underlying reason for the call–mean a lot to me. I silently think, "Nope, not dead yet! And, yay! I still have someone who cares enough to check to see if I'm dead or alive!" 

I feel for, and worry about, all the singletons who are not on someone's well-being check-in list. Covid has me worried about people in my life - family, friends, coworkers - and everyone in general, but it's single/zeros who occupy a lot of the worry sector of my brain. 

We go along doing our single/zero thing, working and walking among the marrieds and breeders, most of us avoiding calling attention to our lack of significant other or children. And then blam! a pandemic comes along and all of a sudden we're called out as people to add to wellness checklists. 

I hear a lot about families coping - either coping well or not coping at all - lots of funny videos and memes, lots of "strategies" articles. But there's a dearth of coping and strategy media for single zeros. The metaphoric always the bridesmaid yet again. We're mentioned on the "check on their wellbeing..." lists, but that's about it.

For me, that's okay. I know how to cope. I have strategies. And I think, I hope, most other single zeros do, as well.

One of the reasons I decided to check in on this blog is because it's a voice from the single zero perspective, and it's my way of saying, "We are here, we are here, we are here!" And to reiterate a few reminders:
  • Just because we're used to living alone doesn't mean we like staying home anymore than you do. 
  • Just because we don't have kids to home school or marriages to maintain during all this togetherness doesn't mean it's "easier" for us. 
  • Just because we're only one person with one mouth to feed and one bottom to wipe doesn't mean we don't have financial concerns and issues finding snacks and enough toilet paper. 
  • Just because singles who are unfortunate enough to be hospitalized with Covid don't have someone waiting to hug them on their victory wheelchair rollouts from hospitals doesn't mean their triumphant recovery is less significant. 
  • Just because we don't have a spouse/partner/BF/GF and/or children doesn't mean our lives are less than...or less important, less worth saving.


*Would you want to use a communal laundry room during a pandemic? yeesh. It's gross under normal times. Throw in a deadly contagious virus? Yeah. Laundry day becomes akin to a sinister day in the Hunger Games arena.
**Taco Tuesday leftovers that were so plentiful that they lingered long enough to turn into Throwback Thursday tacos.

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8:20 PM

Saturday, April 04, 2020  
...and still, there are people ignoring the need for social distancing, while others are complaining about it thinking this is all "blown way out of proportion" and ruining their lives. 

Sure, a pandemic is a news media Godsend. This is what the sensationalists have been training for. 

But.

The numbers don't lie. The numbers don't need the boost of sensationalism. 

Yes.

It stinks. Long-anticipated events are canceled. Spontaneous nights out are not happening. Weddings, births, dream vacations...Covid-19-related disappointments are hitting where it hurts. 

But here's the thing: It's not personal. We're all experiencing disappointments and making sacrifices.

I have a modest social life and small family. I'm probably one of the least impacted by cancellations and closures and even I'm dealing with disappointing cancelations and closures. 

I had tickets to the Cubs' home opener. Instead of enjoying an afternoon at the Friendly Confines I worked on a challenging budget forecast for work. There's no crying in baseball because there is no baseball. Or hockey. Or basketball. 

Or Olympics.

I was looking forward to kicking off the 2020 concert season with some of my favorite bands: The Revivalists, Silversun Pickups, and Thom Yorke already canceled. I have tickets for several other concerts and festivals in May, June and July. I'm not counting on any of those shows happening. Chicago's infamous Old Town Art Fair is canceled. 

Friends were planning to visit me. I was planning to visit friends. It'll still happen. Someday. But not now, maybe not this year. 

I spend every other weekend with my mother - often every weekend - but her retirement community closed to visitors March 4. I can't (and shouldn't) visit her. She's doing great, she's her usual pillar of strength and inspiration, but...yeah, it's just really difficult to not be allowed to spend time with her. 

That's just me, in my small world. Most people with bigger lives and bigger budgets are sacrificing much more. 

Covid has given me some perspective. I learned that a lot of people are selfish, rude, ignorant, arrogant, irresponsible, unaware jerks. More so than I realized. Until now I thought the numbers of those types of people were limited to the guys I've dated, not indicative of the general population. Turns out there's a large segment of society who are selfish, rude, ignorant, arrogant, irresponsible, unaware jerks. Which is a huge disappointment. I'm not dwelling on it, but, it's a disappointing insight. 

I'm choosing, instead, to focus on the positive people. It sounds trite. It seems obvious. But I suspect maybe that's the difference between those who are coping and managing emotions during the social distancing era and those who are flunking the simplest of behaviors: Staying home and being okay with it.  

Sure, maybe living alone my entire adult life is making this "easier" for me. People think self-isolation is a way of life for singles. In my case, yes, I've spent a lot of time alone. But only due to a mix of financial constraints and work obligations. Given money and time I would have, and would be, much more socially active. Most singles are very social, very active, very socially involved. Being single doesn't equate to "easier" self isolation during the pandemic.

Isolating at home is not easy for anyone. 

The economy is...scary.

The increasing case tally and death toll is scary. 

The resemblance to Twilight Zone episodes and pandemic movies is really scary. 

I understand that. 

It's difficult to see a future that doesn't include financial setbacks or financial ruin. It's difficult to see a future that doesn't include fear of infection (a world of germaphobes might not be an entirely bad thing, though...) It's difficult to see past the immediate, weird, unhealthy world we have right now. 

But.

What I don't understand is the lack of reason and compassion for others, for society at large. You know, bigger picture thinking that is obviously lacking in people who feel staying home is not necessary. Rational thought that is obviously lacking in people who go straight to political bashing and blame (both sides are doing this) rather than putting politics/religion/whatever differences aside and come together to deal with this as human beings rather than labels. 

It's sad. It's really sad that even now, even in the midst of "this," the political arguing and mean-spirited snark is escalating, not receding. I hear otherwise sane and kind people say things like, "I hope _________ gets Covid. He deserves it." Or, "this is all __________'s fault, they should have ______________ years ago and we wouldn't have this problem now."  

I'm all for free speech. I'm all for freedom of opinion and lively discourse. 

Pointing fingers and blaming [whomever, whatever] is pointless. Covid is here, it's everywhere. 

From my self-isolated perch observing my wide range of friends, family, colleagues and acquaintances, what I'm starting to fear most the divisiveness that's spreading as fast as Covid. 

I have a relative who is a physician assistant working long hours in a hospital, now caring for Covid patients. This relative also happens to be very Christian and very republican. But. My relative doesn't care what the religious beliefs or political views the patients hold. All patients are treated equal and with respect. 

But I wonder...do the patients share that outlook? Will they share that outlook toward the healthcare workers caring for them? Will it matter to atheist or democratic patients that my relative attends church regularly and reads the Bible during breaks and volunteers off hours supporting local republican candidates? Would they rather die than receive care from someone who believes in God or supports a particular candidate? 

I know these are rhetorical questions, but based on what I hear and see from other family and friends it does matter to a lot of people. I'm hearing and seeing so much hatred and blame (both sides, all sides) that social media arguments and Facetime calls ending with angry swipes are more common than a kind word or silly joke. This is boiling over when the best thing for the human herd is for us to come together, put aside differences (and I mean really put them aside, as in, discard them) respect each other, everyone, as a member of the herd. 

That's so sad. And that's what's scaring me most. 

We could choose to come of out this a kinder, more respectful, more united species. That would be a great result, an accidental consequence. 

But from what I'm seeing and hearing, this is bringing out the worst in a lot people (hoarders, I'm looking at you with a stink eye). Pointless blame and empty political rants are becoming more prevalent than a heartfelt "Hi! How are you? I miss you!" or, "Here's a funny cat video" or "remember this song?" And sadly, there are far more political rants than the, "This is my neighbor, she's elderly and needs ____________ can anyone spare _____________ for her?" posts. 

I was writing these thoughts during the week, hoping thinking it through would help me get to healthier mindset about the condition human. And then, late Thursday night a friend posted a cry for help.

My friend was trying to help her junior high schooler through early Algebra. My friend is not a math teacher. She posted a call for help on Facebook. My friend keeps her Facebook settings private, so everyone seeing the post is family or friends. We all know her children, we all love her children. But instead of, "Sure, let's see the lesson" responses, or even the "Oh no. Not algebra!" comments, most of the comments were about the decline of education thanks to [choose a political party or tax program]. Many and varied political parties and funding programs were mentioned and blamed. A Facebook fight broke out over the teacher's union. Meanwhile, my friend's child still struggled with solving for x. 

If a group of family and friends can't come together to help a kid solve for x on their early algebra homework, how will we ever come together to solve for a pandemic?

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11:31 AM

Tuesday, March 31, 2020  
Hugs: Just say no. 

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7:34 PM

Monday, March 30, 2020  
So, I'm going into week three of working from home. 

The isolation aspect is okay. I rode out the recession freelancing, consulting, contracting and working odd jobs, most of which were home-based. And those jobs didn't pay much. So I'm used to spending days...weeks...months...working odd hours, rarely going out and generally being socially distant. 

The difference, of course, is now there's a pandemic. This isolation at home is mandated and enforced by something other than my lack of money. 

During the recession my fears were personal: Keeping a roof over my head. Eating food other than rice and beans and peanut butter. No health insurance. My world, then, was very small and very focused on earning enough money to pay for basic existence. My fears, my sleepless nights, were based on keeping a roof over my head, having an occasional nutritional meal and trying to stay healthy.

The fear now, is bigger. I now have a decent job and health insurance. Ironically, that doesn't calm the fear of, well, you know. A pandemic with growing numbers of cases and fatalities. 

But.

Though the long days and nights of isolation are difficult, this time around I have a job that keeps me very busy. So far, at least, I have a salary and health insurance. I have a great manager and coworkers I genuinely respect, enjoy and care about. We are staying connected by phone calls and various social media not just because we have to collaborate for our work, but also because we care about each other and, yes, we miss the daily work banter and personal connection we share. 

My company started taking Covid-19 seriously earlier than a lot of other companies in the US. We're a global company so that was a factor driving the early concern. Our colleagues around the world were severely impacted by early January. By early February our leadership curtailed all work travel - globally, nationally and locally - and issued daily updates. It was made very clear to us that working from home was an accepted option for everyone, and those who were not set up to work from home were to prepare for that eventuality. That eventuality happened on March 2 when we were told working from home was strongly encouraged. All who could do so were to start migrating to home-based work. One-by-one, day-by-day, our corporate campus grew quieter. My team was finalizing a large project. Most of us worked in the office until the 9th. Some of us had another week of studio-based work to complete or worked with large files requiring the secure and robust server. By the 13th we were all working from home. 

March 20 we were informed that at 5:00 PM Saturday, March 21 Chicago, and Illinois were to go on lockdown. All non-essential businesses were to close. We were to stay home and only go out for essentials: groceries, medication, health-related emergencies, dog walking. The lockdown was to be in place until at least April 7. 

I was okay with that. Because I heard grim news from colleagues in other parts of the world in January I knew this was no ordinary virus. I knew it spread swiftly and indiscriminately. I knew when (not if) it made it's way to the US we were not equipped to effectively manage it. I've spent time in ER rooms at good hospitals that were not efficiently staffed or equipped enough to handle more than a few trauma patients at once. I've endured tense hours worrying about my mother's soaring heart rate in the ICU waiting for a doctor who was already overworked due to the more urgent heart attack, stroke and pulmonary distress patients.  

I knew the preponderance of open plan offices with coworkers crammed less than three feet from each other was essentially a lighted match sparking instant outbreak across corporate America. I knew our overcrowded classrooms spelled C-O-N-T-A-G-I-O-N. I knew healthcare is expensive, even with "good" health insurance that 20% copay can add up to hundreds or thousands of dollars, and most people avoid going to a doctor until something internal is intolerably painful or malfunctioning. I knew Americans are a freedom-at-all-cost loving, stubborn, and kind of stupid group of people when it comes to public health and safety. The Darwin Awards are dominated by Americans. Read the fates of some of the past winners for proof of our individual disregard for common sense that adds up to a collective whole of...well, a whole lot of stupid when it comes to personal health and public safety.

So. My outlook for America's handling and ultimate fate at the hands of Covid-19 was not optimistic. 

I was, and remain, relieved that I work for a company who takes this seriously and wants us to work from home as long as necessary, and made sure everyone has everything they need to work efficiently from home. 

I was, and remain, relieved that I live in a city and state that went on lockdown before the reported cases hit the 600 mark. 

I was, and remain, irritated with the Chicagoans who did not take the lockdown (or the virus) seriously and went out in droves to the lakefront and parks on a sunny afternoon, which resulted in the closure of access to the lakefront and many parks and trails. Thanks, selfish irresponsible jerks, for ruining it for the rest of us who were smartly distancing ourselves from others on our lakefront work break walks. (See above, stupid, stubborn, freedom-at-all-cost-even-death American idiots.) This is why we can't have nice things.

I've been exceptionally busy with work the past few weeks so the shorter commute time (30 seconds each way) has been helpful. I've been taking time to actually make and eat decent meals, including a lunch break, something I rarely do in the office, but that's the extent of healthy habits I've adopted during this work-from-home era. Routines? Yeah, not so much.

I resisted making personal self-improvement goals during the lockdown. I was too busy with work. I was hoping it wouldn't last "too long." And mainly, it seemed inappropriate and unaware to concern myself with such superficial, selfish goals when people are dying. "Oh what a shame, 200 more deaths today. Ah well, best get at those lunges and the charcoal mask, those pores aren't going to shrink themselves and there's that Zoom meeting this morning." See what I mean? Cringeworthy. 

But now that it's clear this work from home situation is going to last much longer than a few weeks I'm determined to find some positives and use this social isolation time for a little self-rebalancing. I know from painful experience that staying in - for whatever reason(s) - has mental health ramifications. Those issues are amplified for us single-zeroes. We live alone, so we are really, literally self-isolating. We're socially distanced under normal circumstances. Throw in a pandemic and the constant reminder of just how alone we really are comes into even sharper focus than usual. As if we needed that. Thanks, Covid-19. Jerk pandemic.

So, for my physical and emotional well-being, I decided a few goals for healthy habits isn't a bad thing. My working to stay healthy doesn't diminish the pain and suffering of others. My concern for those infected and the people caring for them is ever present and omnipresent. We're forced to stay inside, and as the days wear on it's becoming obvious that I need some structure and non-work goals to my days. 
  1. I'm staying home. And I mean really staying home. I'm hoping to limit my grocery trips to once every two weeks, longer if possible. I don't want the regular flu, much less Covid-19. More importantly, I don't want to expose myself to it then (unknowingly) infect someone else. Especially my mother and other people in my life who are at high risk. Staying home is just the right and smart thing, the socially responsible thing, to do. 
  2. I'm cooking and eating healthy. Really healthy. Every day.
  3. Which means limiting alcohol intake. I purposely left booze off my isolation shopping list because I didn't want to spend evenings drinking and binge watching mindless series. Okay. Yes. I plan to enjoy a cocktail or two and finish Schitt's Creek. But that's, like, important enjoytainment, right? (Anyone want to talk about Catherine O'Hara? I could devote a blog to her brilliance..) And I'll admit this openly right now: if season two of Dead to Me happens to release during this lockdown, well, you won't hear from me while I plow through it. 
  4. I'm taking vitamins. All of them. Every day. Regularly. No forgetting, no skipping.
  5. Thanks to a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of screen time for work and some environmental factors, last year I developed very dry eyes. There's a wonderful treatment that involves spending 20 minutes with specially designed warm compresses on your eyes. It does wonders. When you do it regularly, that is. So. 20 minutes every date devoted to eye care. 
  6. I'm sleeping. Or trying to sleep. That's the goal. It's a difficult one. But I'm working on it. My Fitbit shows slow progress toward more sleep. I wouldn't call it a trend, yet, but there have been a few nights with more than four uninterrupted hours of sleep. 
  7. I use the gym at work. Yeah. Uh-oh. Office closed = gym closed. And now there are no walks on the lakefront. So. I'm going to not only figure out home workouts, I'm determined to return to work fitter than when I left the office on March 13. I have this blouse that I really love but have never worn. Goal is to wear it on our first day back in the office, whenever that is. And it would look a lot better on me if my stomach were a little more, um, toned. There's also a pair of jeans mocking me...
  8. There's a drawer full of perfectly good skincare products promising to shrink my pores, lighten my dark circles, tighten my jawline and give me the flawless youthful glow of a healthy baby if only I'd bother to use them daily, weekly, or however instructed. So, beauty regime: Game on. 
  9. I've been in the process of growing out my hair, nothing super long, just fewer and longer layers. By the time I can get a haircut again I think I'll be almost at my goal length. Okay, this isn't really something that requires any effort on my part, but it's an upside of self isolating. If you happen to be growing out your hair or growing a beard this is a great time to let your follicles do their thing. 
  10. I'm moving (more on that later), and that move is supposed to happen in April. Closing date is "fluid" and moving date is a moving target, but every day I'm told it's still going to happen. Real estate services and relocation/moving services are considered essential. So. More on that later. I'm pretty much packed, stuff is in storage, I'm down to the bathroom, odds and ends and the stuff I can move myself. But, sure, there's a drawer or two that could use some purging. 
  11. Writing. Yep. This is proof that I'm doing more of that again. I've been writing but not blogging here. I'm going to see how this goes. Maybe I'll have time for it, maybe I won't. Probably it will be boring and stupid. But the goal is the exercise of writing, working those muscles for something other than work or subject specific pieces. We'll see how it goes. 
This is all healthy, do-able stuff that I "should" and can do to prevent self-isolation from becoming self-destruction. They say you should write your goals and tell people about them. It helps cement them and ultimately actualize them. We'll see how that goes, as well. 

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12:43 AM

Monday, June 25, 2018  
Coming out of hiding for a minute to defend a talented, inspirational, important American.

Time and place are always critical considerations, but are especially important to factor into context of the written word. Language is as fluid and ever-evolving as the human race and societal norms. Whether you're reading Tom Sawyer or Village People lyrics, knowledge and recall of the era and setting in which they were written are required to to understand and accurately analyze the words and their intent. Most of us cannot fully understand life in mid-1800s Missouri (or '70s Greenwich Village), but I can think of no better guide to the era than Mark Twain (or a group of male dancers in costume).

I, and most Americans, are united in a deep, passionate respect for indigenous people whose ancestors lived on the land we call home long before our ancestors arrived. I'm not smart or clever enough to figure out a solution to right the wrongs of the past, or sort out a compromise that works for everyone. But I am certain that diminishing the overreaching merits of words written in an era far removed from our own is not a solution or useful compromise.

A point that is far too often overlooked when words in books are dissected and held up as libel: Children are (generally) smarter, more insightful and nicer than the adults trying to protect them. Most children reading age-appropriate books understand the settings may be different from their modern day life and do not take the words at face value. Few kids fall into confusion over slavery when reading about the house elves at Hogwarts, for instance. (Although why J.K. Rowling chose to go there is still a sticking point with me. There are many less cringe-worthy plot devices she could have chosen.) Most kids, or at least the ones with spunk and pluck, much prefer reading the sometimes gritty adventures of real-life adventurers like Laura Ingalls than the sanitized and heavily marketed rip-off American Girls version of a young girl's life on the frontier, even with the allure of an expensive doll and accessories.

A parent with concerns about passages or words in a book their child is reading could use the words in question as the start of a conversation about what those words mean now, and why they meant something different when originally written. Parents may be surprised to learn their child has a much deeper and evolved understanding of society than most adults. The adults would do well to listen to their child's insight and world view.

A book that engages a child and ignites their passion for literature is important. There are plenty of engaging books that inspire pre-teen girls to be bold, clever and adventurous. Be it Nancy Drew, Matilda or Laura Ingalls, the books where these characters live hit the sweet spot for encouraging and inspiring young girls to think beyond the Barbie aisle. (No offense to Barbie, but that's a different topic entirely.) Young girls who read these books go into puberty with a legion of characters who have their backs when the hormonal going gets tough. The young reader books pave the way and launch interest for more advanced literature with strong, inspirational, clever female characters who provide both motivation and refuge for girls (and women and boys and men).

History is not always comfortable. Life on the frontier was difficult. Surviving each day was an accomplishment. Being a 10 year old is not always comfortable. Life in the school cafeteria is difficult. Surviving each day is an accomplishment. Bridging those themes is a kid we all want as our friend, a determined and good natured live wire named Laura Ingalls. 

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10:53 PM

Wednesday, November 09, 2016  
I was hearing and reading a lot about "how do I explain this to my children?" and "what do I say to my children?" This being Trump's election.

Many of the children in question are under the age of eight.

I tried to recall my political mindset prior to my ninth birthday. Sure, I know historically who was in office during those years. But I couldn't remember any personal enthusiasm or disdain for the presidents or candidates or elections during my first eight years of life. I must have been stupid, unaware or apolitical in my early years. But I also can't recall my classmates espousing the merits of a political candidate or president. Electoral college? I'm pretty sure I was only vaguely aware that university was a place you went after high school. To my young (and apparently neophyte brain), the electoral college probably sounded like a place where mayors went to school to learn how to be mayors.

Are young children more politically inclined now? Are these savvy tots debating hot button issues and the pros and cons of the electoral college on the playground? Are red and blue more than colors in their crayon boxes?

When I talked to a friend today, post-election, she broke down sobbing about how she would explain Trump's win to her five year old daughter. I could tell she was having a full-blown ugly cry. "I have to tell her, I- I- I- have (sob) to (sob) tell (sob) her before she goes to (sob) schoo-oo-ool (sob) this afternoon. (sob sob) What am I going to say (sob) to her? How can I (sob sob) explain it to her?"

I saw this friend and her daughter a few weeks ago. The kid was wearing underpants on her head and had a meltdown over the remaining popsicle flavor options. That was the IRL gif going through my head as my friend sank further into an angst-filled sob fest over this latest parenting challenge the election had thrown at her. I struggled to imagine that little girl having an opinion or understanding of the election process and the candidates.

Naively, I suggested, "Um, maybe you just tell her there was a vote all over the country and, just like every four years, we'll have a new president in January?"

My friend felt I was underestimating her child's grasp of the election and what it really means. You know, really means to her as well as society at large.

My friend continued, "She named her new Barbie Hillary so she could play madam president! (sob) How do I break this horrible news to her?"

I made the mistake of asking about Barbie playtime, "Um, couldn't she still call her Barbie Hillary and play madam president? Does the real Hillary's loss remove all possibility of playing madam president with a Barbie doll?"

My friend brushed me off with, "You don't (sob) understand how much (sob) this election means to her!!"

I was honestly confused, "You mean to [your daughter] or to Hillary Clinton? I think I have a pretty good grasp on how much this election meant to Hillary Clinton."

"MY DAUGHTER!! (sob sob)"

Getting a little weary of what I thought was an overreaction, "Um, she's five. She gets a kick out of wearing underpants on her head. She plays with dolls. Because she's five. Does she really have a strong feeling about this election? Maybe you don't really need to tell her much about it. Maybe you answer questions on a need-to-know basis?"

My friend said I don't understand because I don't have children. She said her daughter is very aware of the election and what it means to America. And Hillary's loss is going to crush her five year old's soul and warp her sense of the feminist collective. I kept my mouth shut about how Barbie dolls are probably doing more damage to her child's soul and the feminist collective. I knew this was not the time to have The Barbie Talk. My friend was agonizing over how to "handle" this with her daughter.

The conversation had me wondering just how woefully unaware and stupid I was as a child. So I called my mother.

Here's a transcript of that conversation. I'm posting this as a guide for parents grappling with how to tell their children about Election 2016.

"Hi Mum, how's it going?"

"Boy am I tired, what a night!"

[long and meaningful pause] "Mum?"

"Yes?"

"Have you figured out how you're going to talk to your children about the election?"

[riotous laughter] "I've been worried about that all morning." [more laughter]

"But seriously, mum, I'm curious. I don't remember much about politics or elections or presidents until I was about 10 or 11. Was I really stupid, or unaware, or apolitical until then? Or do I just not remember that part of my childhood?"

"Oh good grief, no, you weren't stupid. I think you were probably a little more aware than some of the other children at school. You always had very good grades in social studies and government."

"Even when I was young?"

"You know your father and I never pushed our politics on you. We believed it was crucial that parents remain objective so their children can grow and develop their own political choices. Nothing worse that someone who votes a particular way simply because it's what their parents did. Religion, too, for that matter. Anything, really."

It's true, I knew this, I remembered this from my later childhood.

"But did you tell me anything about elections or candidates? Did I care?"

"Does any child under the age of eight really care about an election or candidates? Unless they're reciting what their parents told them, or what they overhear at home, I don't believe children that young have enough world knowledge and political understanding to talk politics. Nor do I believe they're naturally interested. Given the choice, children will play or watch cartoons or whatever it is they do on all those gizmos these days."

Bingo.

"So you didn't tell me anything about elections and politics?"

"Of course we did. We taught you the process. We told you to respect all points of view. That was more than enough until you were old enough to grasp issues and the candidates' stances. And even then we worked very hard to keep the conversations objective. Young mind forming and all that. We did not want to sway you with our opinions. Our job was to teach you the process, teach you about the different parties, give you some history, equip you with the tools you need to navigate the process. The rest, the opinion-forming, was up to you. "

"Thanks for that, Mum. I appreciate the effort you put into making sure I developed my own mind. Was I just lucky to be the youngest and the benefactor of trial and error, or did you do the same with [my brother and sister]?"

"Your father and I agreed on this before we were married. We felt that strongly about making sure our children formed their own minds and opinions. We were not interested in creating and controlling miniature versions of ourselves."

"But that's risky, we don't all agree with you."

"Exactly! How boring it would be if the entire family agreed on everything! And what would be the point of creating people only to manipulate them into the same opinions as ours? Why bother creating a family of sycophants? The fun of creating children is learning who they are and helping them develop their unique personalities. Forcing our opinions on you would defeat that."

"What if you felt strongly about a candidate?" 

"We never had that problem. There have been very few candidates we felt strongly about - positive or negative. Some of the candidates certainly concerned us, but not to the point of fear or hostility."

"I don't remember you or dad getting really upset over an election result. Surely you have not liked every president."

"No, but you know us, 'the people have spoken,' and 'this, too, shall pass.' No sense getting worked up over something you can't control. And something that will change in four years. There are good lessons about winning and losing, too. We wanted you to learn to be a gracious winner and gracious loser. So we never got too worked up over election results."

And that's how you "handle" the election with your children.



8:43 PM

Sunday, November 06, 2016  
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There’s a lot of talk about leaving the country if a chosen presidential candidate doesn’t win.

I understand.

It’s frustrating when you believe in a cause or a political party or a candidate and other people don’t share your passion - or even understand your point of view.

And it’s disconcerting and disappointing when a cause, or political party, or candidate in opposition of your choice is popular enough to threaten your choice.

You look at the people supporting the opposition and you think, “I’m not like them. They’re not like me. If they support ___________ we can’t possibly have anything in common, and I don’t want to know them.”

And maybe you think, “The people who support ____________ are stupid/backwater hicks/uppity city folk/brainwashed/lemmings/etc. etc.”

And then you might become so frustrating that you think, “If those stupid/backwater hicks/uppity city folk/brainwashed/lemmings/etc. etc. manage to gain control of __________, that’s it, I’m leaving America because I cannot possibly live in a country full of stupid/backwater hicks/uppity city folk/brainwashed/lemmings/etc. etc.”

I’m hearing and seeing a lot of this – from both sides (and the middle) of the political spectrum.

And it makes me sad. And frustrated.

What I hear is, “If you don’t agree with me, if my ‘team’ doesn’t win, I’m not willing to work for compromise and change. I’m too narrow-minded to consider another point of view, too lacking in creativity to find a creative solution that solves problems beyond party affiliation, I’m too angry to take a deep breath and think about a bigger picture. I’d rather mock, rant, taunt and ridicule than listen, think, evaluate and solve. If everyone doesn’t agree with me, I’m taking my citizenship elsewhere.”

I quietly take all this in, listen to the angry (rage-filled, actually), frustrated, stubborn, narrow-minded, uncreative, threats from both sides (and the middle, and the outside). And I wonder, “Am I the only one who sees how similar they are?” On a Meyers-Briggs assessment they’d share traits: Anger (to the point of rage), frustrated, obstinate, stubborn, narrow-minded, opinionated, uncreative, passionate, selfish, steadfast, loyal, task-oriented, lacking big-picture thinking, unoriginal, unwilling to compromise. The only difference is their party affiliation.

I understand passion. I love and respect animals and nature, passionately. It’s difficult for me to understand hunters and companies who pollute the environment. Really difficult. I struggle with it. 

But I'm working on acceptance.

There’s a family in my hometown who have gone above and beyond to help my mother. They’ve taken time off work to help her to doctor appointments. They drop meals off to her. They salted and dugout her driveway after a bad ice storm. They’ve done airport pick-ups and drop-offs for me. They are humble, giving people. They always tell me how much they like my parents, and how helpful my parents were to them when they first moved to our small town. Every time I thank them they say, “Oh my heavens, it’s the least we can do, after all your parents did for us when we moved here. Don’t give it another thought.” 

Nice people, right? Yes. 

Here’s another thing about them: They hunt. The whole family. Obviously I would prefer that they not kill animals for sport. I have to separate my feelings about hunting from who these people are: kind, sincere, generous people. It’s not always the easiest reconciliation. But it’s the mature, big-picture thing to do. See the good, applaud it. Look past the differences. They know I’m vegetarian, I’m sure they think I’m weird because of that. But they, too, look past our differences and focus on the good.

When my mother had a major health crisis while on vacation with my dad, they had to rely on healthcare 1,000 miles from home. She was airlifted to a hospital by a medicopter service funded by Catholic charities. A Muslim neurologist saved her life. A team of physical and occupational therapists comprised of Baptist, Hindu, and Jewish therapists helped her walk, talk, eat and write again. The townsfolk in the small town heard about the out-of-town couple in the hospital and brought food, toiletries, a hand crocheted blanket, books, a steady stream of therapy dogs, and representatives from every faith/practice imaginable stopped in to wish my mother and the family well. They prayed, meditated, raised hands, laid hands, wrapped hands, counted Rosaries, chanted mantras and in one particularly big leap of interfaith, performed a Shinto ritual carried out by 97-year-old local Shinto leader whose granddaughter was a nurse at the hospital. All these people, strangers, didn’t care about my parents’ religious or political beliefs. They only cared that a vacationing woman had a life threatening health crisis and they did what they could to help.

One of the therapy dogs was handled by a retired guy. He and my dad bonded over sports and “man” talk, which was more helpful therapy than his dog. The guy stopped by the hospital for an hour or so in the afternoons and had coffee with my dad, gave my dad a much needed break while my mother was in various therapies. My dad went into town for lunch one day and saw the guy getting into his car. The car was adorned with several bumper stickers of a specific political party, a political party that my moderate father was frustrated with at the time. But he was already friends with this guy, and grateful for this stranger who took time to just talk sports and tools and cars. He did not think, “I can’t be friends with him because of his political party affiliation.” He simply did not bring up politics when he saw him again.

I know these are extreme and “well, in that situation, of course…” examples.

But.

When I see/hear someone say, “If you are a ______________ I don’t want to know you,” I think of that retiree and his therapy dog and the afternoons he spent keeping my dad company, which kept my dad comforted and sane during a very difficult time. There are people making blanket statements saying they don’t want to know that guy and others like him because of his political choices. Or that they will leave the country because of people “like him.”

So I feel compelled to speak out about this.

I’m getting older, I’ve lived through a lot of elections, I’ve seen a lot of candidates come and go. Some good, some bad, most of them mediocre. The good ones inspire us, the bad ones give us something to complain about. 

Life goes on. 

We still have to go to work (or find a job), we still have to eat healthy, get some exercise, and find time for family. Find time for whatever spiritual devotion fuels and inspires us. Work on hobbies, read a book or two, maybe take in a ball game or movie now and then. Throw in helping a neighbor or stranger, and keeping your community clean and safe and there’s not a lot of time left for anger and selfishness.

But if you do all that and still feel anger welling, and a deep level of frustration that makes you want to renounce your citizenship, I suggest making time to volunteer time (not money) to a charity that serves the: elderly, disabled, abused, or children. Giving yourself and time (not a check) to people who need help with basic life needs will broaden your perspective. You’ll meet some of the people you want to leave behind, people you didn’t know needed you.

Closing yourself off to people who don't think like you is comfortable because you're always surrounded by like-minded people. Everyone agrees with you. You're in a cozy blanket of conformity. It's the easy choice. No conflicts, no compromise, no challenges that lead to introspection and broadening of the mind.

Isn't one of the goals of life, a goal we all share, to expand horizons and perspectives?

I'm not sure where the people who are threatening to leave America are going to live. Are there islands for Democrat expats only or Republican expats only?  Let's presume money is not an object. You have a steady stream of bazillions of dollars. And you are so angry at the opposing candidate that you vow to leave America if they win, move somewhere where everyone shares your exact political beliefs. Where is that? Where is that place?

Anger, blind-hatred (any hatred), stubbornness, narrow-mindedness, unwillingness to compromise, unwillingness to look at an issue from a different perspective, lack of creative thought, and most of all, running from a situation that’s not in-line with your personal outlook, is not going to lead to a better life, a happier life, or even a decent night of sleep.

6:25 PM

Wednesday, August 19, 2015  
I need very specific help.
If anyone out there has grown a Maple tree (I believe it’s a Norway maple) indoors, starting with the helicopter seed pod thingies, please email me at triciamcmillian42@yahoo.com
Here’s what I know about growing plants:







Nothing.

I am not a gardener.
A) I have a lot of allergies, both skin irritation and the sneezy coughy itchy eye types of allergies. 
B) I like communing with nature. I enjoy trees, flowers, the occasional topiary…but I’m more of an observer/enjoyer than a pruner/gardener.
My vision of a perfect garden is one where nature has taken its own course. I appreciate a well-designed, cultivated garden, I appreciate the work and planning…but I like nature for the nature’s sake.
So houseplants have never really been my thing.

And then my mother put my parent’s house on the market.
And the Maple tree that held my tree swing and tree house…is going to be sold with the house.
And the Maple tree I climbed and hid in because I was sad my gran died and I couldn’t handle all the funeral planning going on in the house…is going to be sold with the house.
It’s the same tree where, a few years later, the neighbor’s dog chased a matted, shaking kitten up to the highest branches and my dad coaxed it far enough down to scoop him into an apple basket taped to a rake, and we nursed the kitten to health and became a family pet…is going to be sold with the house.
And the Maple tree rescued when it was a three inch sprout and begged my dad not to mow over and then survived one of the worst Winters in Michigan history as a five inch sprout and went on to become an enormous tree…is going to be sold with the house.
And suddenly I care about gardening.
I have a bunch of the helicopter seed pod thingies. If I plant them in a pot will they sprout? (I think they will, that’s the whole premise behind greenhouses, right?)
Do I plant the helicopter seed pod thingies when they’re green, or should I dry them and plant the brown dried pods?
Is regular old potting soil I can buy at Walgreens sufficient?
Should I use a small, cozy-sized pot or start it in a large pot so it has room to grow and won’t have to be transplanted?
And then what? Will the sprouts die? If they don’t die, will they go through seasonal changes as if they were outdoors? Will the tree grow to a certain size and then die?
What about light? I can provide East, South or Western light.
Watering? Water every day?
Plant food?
I know I’m foolish for trying this, and that’s advice I need, too. If the best advice is: “Don’t do it,” I appreciate that help.


9:13 PM

Monday, July 20, 2015  
It's really happening.

My mother moved out of my parents' house.

We're prepping for an estate sale. And having a little work done to pretty it up for potential buyers. And in a  few weeks there will be a for sale sign in front of my parents' house.

And then that's that.

I knew emotions would reach up and bite my mother when she least expects it. And I knew I'd have a few "moments."

It's just a house. But it's not just a house. My parents built it. They tilled the land. Even when we lived abroad my parents kept the house. One of my cousin stayed there much of the time we were away. It's been "home" for me all my life. So I knew I would have some emotional moments. But. It's too much house and too much yard for my mother. She needs a stress-free, trouble-free, safe place to live. And she found one. She has a lovely, large retirement apartment with a patio overlooking a private courtyard. She has friends who live there. Once the emotional letting go happens, I think she'll be happy there.

Meanwhile, there are weekends filled with numerous trips back and forth between home and the new place. I tell her we need to make the switch, call the new place "home." She can't do that, yet, and it's not exactly rolling off my tongue, either.

We've pretty much emptied the house of all the things we want. All that remains are the things we left behind for the estate sale. Our discarded items, some of them predate my parents' marriage, some are relatively new. My parents and their three children called it home. During my sister's divorce her three children called it home, and they all still refer to their grandparents' house as "home." A couple of my cousins spent extended stays there and refer to it as "home." Cats, a few stray dogs, hamsters, fish all called it home. There are trees, huge trees, that were taken as saplings from my grandparents' yard.

You get the picture.

Home.

Every time we pull out of the driveway some stupid home-related song enters my head. Madness' "Our House." Edward Sharpe "Home." CSN's "Our House." Simon & Garfunkle's "Homeward Bound."

The Nails' "The Things You Left Behind."

What? I'm talking about the general feeling of discarded stuff left behind. Not so much the heroin and garter belts. More the Canasta cards and records.

My mother and I sorted the difficult stuff last weekend. My parents' record collection. Their books. Stacks of insurance papers. During the many trips between the old and new homes the abandoned stuff looked more like sad remnants. Soon home will look like the Grinch was there when his heart was still two sizes too small. I started making mental notes about what my mother wanted at the new place and what was to be left for the estate sale. I repeated the list on the ride so I wouldn't forget. That's when Marc Campbell's raspy rap started beating in the back of my head. After a few trips The Things You Left Behind was updated for my family. I imagined The Nails performing this updated version and pretty soon I was giggling as I packed up stuff and discarded other stuff. Rock and roll can, and does, solve most emotional problems.

The Things We Left Behind

A set of Canasta cards, an old tin toy
An 8-track tape by the Beach Boys.
A vintage bottle of Bal a Versailles
A poster of Iggy Pop Blah Blah Blah
A third place ribbon from a relay race
A Time Life series book about space
A gas station workshirt covered in grime
These are some of the things we left behind.

Cards and letters from people they knew
Back before they had kids and things to do
A cookbook signed by Liberace
Wait, a Liberace cookbook? Is that worth anything?
Five yellowed pages of gran’s scrawled recipes
A Marine Corp jacket missing a sleeve
A couple spools of Macramé twine
These are some of the things we left behind

Two postcards in a cling film photo album
Anyone have a rhyme for album?
Soap on a rope, a book of clans,
Springform and bundt cake pans
Forgot how much we used to celebrate
Birthdays and holidays we always ate cake
A junior high school ID, that hair cut was ill-timed
These are some of the things we left behind

A box of broken beads and rhinestones
We always meant to restring those
A bag of Mexican jumping beans that hatched
Bought on vacation at a tourist trap
A highschool class ring that isn’t ours
Found under a seat in the old car
A bottle shaped like swans with necks entwined
These are some of the things we left behind

A Count Basie record set
(We haven’t had that valued, yet.)
A box of empty Pendaflex folders
A telephone desk with a phonebook holder
A spiral notebook with band names written in ball pen
Containing second year French verbs conjugation
A box made in third grade for school Valentines
These are some of the things we left behind

A reading lamp, some Barbie dolls
A few paintings that adorned the walls
A first aid kit from a Scandinavian cruise
Including “medication” no one used
A cookie jar with the ill-fitting lid on
Where there were always a few twenties hidden
A pantry door marked with children’s heights in penciled lines
These are some of the things we left behind

A set of canasta cards
A third place ribbon
A cookbook signed by Liberace
Bundt pans
Macramé twine
Soap on a rope
An 8-track tape
High school class ring
A Marine Corp jacket missing a sleeve
A Valentine box
Broken beads
A cookie jar
Money? Did we get the twenties?
One last entry on the pantry wall
Two words

“Our Family”


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8:24 PM

 
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