Signage

I see this sign every morning that I make it to the gym. It's duct taped to the front window of a building which used to house a restaurant.

The other day, as I popped a piece of gum into my mouth, I decided to take a closer look at the sign...
I have so many questions. First of all, what does survalince mean? And what's a camara? Is it like a Camaro, only the female version? (Maybe it comes in pink?) And if a CAMARA SURVALINCE is not for trash, what is it for?

The part of the sign that I did understand was that there is a $500 fine for littering so I threw my gum wrapper in the trash can before making my way in to the gym.

Seasons

Lately I've been thinking.

I've been thinking about a lot of things.

I've been thinking about being pregnant for the last time and trying to think of a way to express my feelings over the matter. Words fail me.

I have realized that as Curly passes through each stage and age it is the last time I will be experiencing it with a little girl. Why is this difficult?

I have wondered what it will be like to have my children leave for college and life beyond our home. Are they ready?

I have been noticing the unique and shared traits of each of my children and how some of them are distinctly from me and others are definitely from their dad. This makes me happy.

I have even thought about my blog - how I wish that when I started posting over 3 years ago I had taken more time to thoughtfully choose a blog name and address. (Gerb in the 'Burbs is so much more catchy than the boring Life As I Know It.)

I have thought of various things I could write about or take pictures of.

I think about relationships with family and friends. I wish I could choose a different person to visit with every single day. I wish I had more time for others.

I think much of who I have become in the last 20 years. I have not changed a whole lot in appearance but the core of who I am and what I think has gone through a complete transformation. And yet - I am really pretty much the same person I have always been. This confuses me.

I wonder if I will ever go to New York or Australia. I wonder if I will be disappointed with either if I do.

Like a child on the night before her first trip to Disneyland, I am filled with anticipation, nervousness and excitement over our plans for Halloween.

I understand that I am an introvert a great deal of the time and an extrovert the rest of the time. I do not understand what brings out either end of this personality spectrum. I wish I knew.

I cannot fathom our home ever being diaper-free. I wonder if I'm ready for that time.

I wonder if I have my priorities arranged correctly.

I realize that I love music, but because of this love for music I often cannot listen to it. Every song, every word that holds a memory for a time or situation in my life inspires some sort of emotion. There are certain emotions that are best left alone.

I keep trying to think of ideas of things to write on my kids' lunchbags each day. After 5 years of writing jokes, I ran out. I started writing inspirational thoughts but these do not go over as well.

I think about others often. Are they happy? Are they well? Are they eating something delicious and not telling me about it?

I worry that I am selfish. I worry that I am lacking. I worry that I worry too much.

I love that we get new family pictures every year. I have been wondering what colors and themes we should try for this time around.

I think about life, I think about death. I find beauty and sadness in both.

I have been watching the clouds and the mountains as the seasons change.

I suppose that what I am trying to say is that I have been doing a whole lot of thinking - and not much writing. I am hoping to turn this around soon, to transform this jumble of thoughts into words...

I figured this was the best way to start.

In My Dreams

photo from australiaimages.net

This morning my dreams were interrupted by a phone call so I remember very distinctly what I was dreaming about.

I was on a beach in Australia, nestled in a rocky cove, with a huge group of people. The sand was pocked with tiny holes and everyone was sitting on towels or jackets so that the tiny crabs which lived in those holes would not crawl out and pinch our toes. People, in turn, were standing and telling stories which spanned everything imaginable and each story fascinated me. It was a way that people had of sharing a part of themselves with any friends or strangers who chose to gather there at the beach, a passing along of personal experience and observations.

Whenever a person had completed their story, the custom was for those who had listened to offer kind words or ask questions to encourage a deeper delving into the narrative. One time, however, someone made a rude remark in regard to a story which had been shared and everyone sat there in awkward silence... until the tiny crabs made their way out of their sand-holes and pinched that naysayer's toes until he finally had to stop talking.

At the moment that the phone rang I was musing in my dream how the whole scene was a lot like blogging except that we could really use those crabs sometimes. However, the thing that amused me the most was that, as I was dreaming, I was formulating a post in my head and couldn't wait to get home from the beach to write about it.


I am writing blog posts in my dreams.


Should I seek intervention?

Signs

I spotted this sign in W-Mart this week:


...and I couldn't help but think, really? Is that sign seriously necessary?

I mean, I'll be the first to admit that we live in a conservative state. And I know that I live in a city where the local university is constantly recognized for their squeaky clean image.

But, really?

I tried to imagine what would necessitate posting such a sign, and here is the story that grew in my head...

Two roommates from the local squeaky-clean university have been asked to bring something to drink to a dorm party. The theme for the party is: Autumn. The roommates run into W-Mart and peruse the drink aisle for something autumnish, to no avail. And then, behold! At the end of the carbonated beverages aisle there is an end-cap filled with pretty yellow drinks called: C0r0na Extra.

One roomie says to the other: "Oh, my heck! These drinks are so perfect! The yellow color of them totally makes me think of autumn stuff! And bottles are so much cooler than cans! What do you think?" Then roomie number two says: "Heck-to-the-yes! We are so totally buying these pretty yellow drinks with the name C0r0na Extra! It sounds way exotic and plus it says Extra and that is my favorite kind of gum!"

So the roommates show up at the dorm party and arrange their pretty autumn-yellow colored drinks in a huge tub full of ice and everyone says, "NO WAY! How did you find drinks that are totally the color of yellow autumn leaves?! On a scale of 1 to 10 these drinks rank like a 34 for our autumn theme!"

And then the Dorm Mom walks in and says, "OH MY GOSH WHO BROUGHT ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES TO THE DORM PARTY?!" And the room is suddenly silent.

When Dorm Mom finds out where the drinks were purchased she calls W-Mart to give them the what-for and she is convincing enough that they post a sign.

But you know what? I would LOVE to hear what you think happened.

What's your take on the sign?

Letters About Literature

Here's a shout-out to ElemenoB who entered the Letters About Literature contest and took third place out of 400 entries in her age category!

This is a contest where students write a letter to the author of a book which has touched their life in a personal way. She wrote to Alma Yates, the author of the novel Sammy's Song.

I would tell everyone to go find a copy of this book and read it but, unfortunately, it is no longer in print.

I love this book - and so do my girls.

It is the story of 10-year-old Marni who learns to deal with her handicapped cousin Sammy when he comes to live with their family. It delves into the uncomfortable feelings many people experience when they are around people with disabilities. As the story unfolds Marni learns to see things from Sammy's perspective. As she spends more time with him she realizes that there is someone unique hidden beneath his uncommon exterior.

I love that ElemenoB chose to write about how this book has influenced her way of thinking towards those who are different.

Congratulations, ElemenoB! Contest or not - you make me proud.

My Heroes: The Typo Eradication Advancement League

I may have mentioned previously that I have some issues with bad grammar, spelling mistakes and misuse of punctuation.

When I say 'issues' I mean I will print out an email with mistakes and fix the errors with a red pen because it makes me happy inside.

I take pictures of spelling errors that I find in public places in order to torture myself over them in the privacy of my own home. For example:
While waiting at the dentist's office last week I read an article in the May 2008 Reader's Digest about a man after my own heart. His name is Jeff Deck, and his partner in truth, justice and typo eradication is Benjamin Herson. (Go ahead, click on that blue link and read the article. I'll wait here for you.)

I was excited to come home and look up T.E.A.L. on the internet.

I found this mission statement and wanted to join their cause:

...we, sworn members of TEAL, will be taking a road trip around the country to stamp out as many typos as we can find, in public signage and other venues where innocent eyes may be befouled by vile stains on the delicate fabric of our language. We do not blame, nor chastise, the authors of these typos. It is natural for mistakes to occur; everybody will slip now and again. But slowly the once-unassailable foundations of spelling are crumbling, and the time has come for the crisis to be addressed. We believe that only through working together with vigilance and a love of correctness can we achieve the beauty of a typo-free society.

However, as is the case with many superheroes, their valiant plan was thwarted and the blog which chronicled their journey across America was closed. All that remains is A Statement on the Signs of our National Parks and Public Lands.

I felt slighted. I had finally discovered a worthwhile cause that I could really get motivated about only to discover that they had gone underground. Like many superheroes, they had been silenced.

I eagerly await the return of the Typo Eradication Advancement League.

I don't know about you, but I have been inspired. Rather than looking the other way when I notice the typos around me, I am going to make a difference! I will create a typo-correction kit and carry it with me at all times to preserve the language that I hold dear. Those of you who know me well know I will do this.

We CAN have a typo-free society, and I can help make it happen!

I can make a difference!

(cue superhero exit music)

Once Upon a Time...

I love to read, and today was no exception. I found a book I hadn't read in a long time and sat down to enjoy some quality reading time. Only, the story was different than I remembered.

The main character of the story was really starting to annoy me.

She was shallow, inconsiderate and dense. She made stupid decisions based on nothing. She hurt people without realizing it. She was a complete jerk. All unbeknownst to her.

I was screaming inside! "Are you really that stupid?! How can you NOT realize what you're doing!!" I wanted to pull her out of the pages of the book and give her a serious talking to about the reality of her situation, to turn back time and undo all the things she did that were driving me insane!

I had to put the book down. It was torture to read it.

I started thinking... how often do we do things and make decisions without realizing the impact it has on others? This girl, this silly teenager with a head full of dreams and plans, was so clueless (yet in tune) with what was going on around her! At least, she was aware enough to record these things in her journal - yet still remain removed from the truth of it all. How? How can that be?

As the girl grew older and more mature, the memory of these things was much more rose-colored. And then, as an adult, she wanted to read the pages of her journal once again - to read about what she remembered as fun times and funny stories... only to discover the truth of who she really was.

I prefer my story the way I remember it, not the way I recorded it.

We're supposed to write in our journals, right? And keep them for our kids to read someday?

It's a good thing we don't have a fire pit in our backyard or this notebook would be ashes by now.