October Attitude

I’d like to begin today by stating right up front this is a rant:

I hate campaigns - all of them. And I have a word to say about them. (Technically I have 354 words to say. Thanks to Microsoft Word for counting them.)

Political Candidates: I don’t want to hear your opinion about why I should vote for you. Tell me what you stand for on a nice sheet of 8 1/2”x11”, bail out the United States Post Office by mailing it to me, and then go away and let me decide whether to vote for you or not. All the money you save can be spent on one of the below causes, put toward the national debt, or used to finance a nice trip for you and fifty of your closest friends and relatives to boost the economy of a small island nation.

Purveyors of Wrapping Paper, Wreaths, Cookie Dough, Butter Braids, Etc.: Send me your propaganda and then leave me alone. I will contact you if I chose to do so. And so help me, if you tell my children one more time that they can win fabulous prizes by selling just 3 of your products, I will never again even consider purchasing the merchandise that I am not ever going to purchase from you.

Fine and Just Causes: (Yes I’m talking to you pink ribbon Breast Cancer people)
Despite the fact that you are attempting to take over the whole year, you really should only get one dedicated month. I’ll concede that you are allowed to do your best to spread your message across the world. I will do my best to politely smile, even when you seep into the rest of the year.

You have a fine and just cause. People who are concerned about curing, stopping, saving, and eradicating your issue should rush right up and help. I realize that undeserving folks are trying to live with the issue you passionately care about daily and it is excruciatingly difficult for them. But understand I have my own causes. They are dear/hateful to me. I will be doing all I can to work on and live with them, so when I politely say I cannot support your cause, graciously thank me for my courtesy, and LEAVE ME ALONE.

Also stay the heck out of November. That month belongs to one of my causes.

Thank you.

Wholesome Apples

Originally written Sunday October 2, 2011

"Girls are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. The boys don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just get the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right boy to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree. "

I just read this thought shared on Facebook by a boy I went to junior high and high school with. Now he is a grown man married to a lovely wife, the father of talented children. The ironic thing about the post is that I hung on at the top of the tree waiting for someone like him to ask me out on a date all through high school. I watched him and others date other girls; girls who had lower standards; girls who usually wore a lot less.

Had this young man or one of the others asked me out at that time, probably little would have come from it. But still I was awfully sad to be ignored up there in the windy branches on top. While I wasn’t looking for a wild night of partying, a entertaining night of games or dancing or singing or anything wholesome would have been welcome. Instead I sat in my ivory tower “watching from the windows.”

Rapunzel sings in Disney’s Tangled:

All those years watching from the windows
All those years, outside looking in
All that time, never even knowing
Just how blind I’ve been –

I think back on those painful days of high school waiting for a boy, any boy, to notice me. It was hard. I wondered if maybe he was scared of me, maybe he was lazy. Maybe the boy was blinded by the sun and didn’t see how great I was up there, me and all my dateless friends.

In the end I realize now that I was as blind as he was. I thought then that I needed that boy to make me happy. I thought that I was not complete without him or some male at my side.

This is not to say that I don’t adore my husband. He is an extraordinary man who wasn’t scared to climb the tree, the tower. He braved both the barrier and the last 20+ years with me. I love him. He is a special part of my life, but neither he, nor the boy from high school, could give me my worth.

I disagree with the end of Disney’s Rapunzel song because seeing a man, marrying a man, even the man who is the other half of my whole, isn't the key to filling up my need inside. Perhaps the true irony in all this is that the only person who can affirm my true worth is me.

Eliza R. Snow said of women nearly 150 years ago:
“We like to be appreciated but if we do not get all the appreciation which we think is our due, what matters? We know the Lord has laid high responsibilities upon us, and there is not a wish or desire that the Lord has implanted in our hearts in righteousness but will be realized, and the greatest good we can do to ourselves and each other is to refine and cultivate ourselves in everything that is good and ennobling to qualify us for those responsibilities.”

In reality, my fellow top branch hangers and I are sweet, wholesome, delightful and amazing! We are a capable bunch with a great work to do. We hope to do it in companionship with one of those young men standing at the base of the tree looking up and wondering if the act of climbing the tree and then sticking to the commitment claiming us entails is worth the investment of self.

Either way, we apples – we are worth a priceless amount.

HELLO WORLD!

I am not a computer programmer. I live with one and have experienced more dinner conversation about them than the general public. Still I couldn't walk up to a computer or into a business and actually program anything.


I could list pertinent terms for you: C#, C++, Unix, FORTRAN, Perl, Java, Windows, mainframe, script, roll, top level domain... You get the picture. I can say them; I can use them correctly in a sentence. I have no idea what I'm talking about.


My lack of specific knowledge to actually do something beneficial with them, doesn't keep them from slipping out into my writing and conversation. That goes for the lost pieces of trivia floating loose in my mind too. How many years ago was it that I took that college course in Basic? More than most of the people who will read this post will call their age, yet I still remember my Hello World program. I couldn't repeat how to do it now. But there it is shining out brightly, my first lost memory, and first post....

HELLO WORLD!